Strangers on a Plane


by PaganBaby

Summary: Buffy and Spike are strangers who meet on a flight to NYC. They both have an intense fear of flying and help each other cope.

RATED NC-17!! No kiddies should read this.

Warnings for: Graphic, hardcore sexual content, adult language.

'Ice Cream Man' lyrics by John Brim. (I altered them a bit); 'Touch Me' is by the Doors

'Late Night with Conan O'Brien' is the property of NBC

Joss, ME and FOX own everything, I'm just borrowing from them.

Thanks to Tiana for beta'ing for me!

Chapter 1: Leavin' on a Jet Plane


Spike sat next to the window in First Class, staring out at the dark tarmac. His hands shook, he was scared out of his wits.

Flying had always been a huge problem for him. Ever since he was 6-years-old, Spike had been terrified at the mere thought of getting on a plane. He had a panic attack and freaked out his first time on board one. That experience haunted him--his Mum and Dad's concern then embarrassment, the other passengers' resentful glares and pitying looks, his complete and overwhelming feeling of dread and impending doom.

Spike broke out in a cold sweat. He tried breathing slowly and deeply to avoid hyper-ventilating. He clenched his teeth in frustration.

'Haven't even taken off yet and I'm bloody well losin' it...Calm breaths, calm breaths...What if I hyperventilate?! Do they have paper bags--I should've brought one--I knew I should've brought one! I'll look like a weirdo if I ask for a bag. Please let me calm down! God, please just help me get through this!'

It was amazing how quickly people turned to God in times of fear or need. Spike wasn't a religious person and never had been. But he became a believer when faced with flying.

'Thinking shit like that is making it worse--Calm! Calm...Calm...'

Spike wouldn't be doing this at all if it weren't absolutely necessary. He was an up and coming musician. His band 'The Big Bad' was finally getting some recognition and airplay. The rest of the band and his 'people' had already flown out. Spike was going to be the last to arrive due to putting it off as long as possible. He had even refused a security guard to come along with him on the flight because he didn't want to look like a ponce in front of anyone else. His first ever talk show appearance was scheduled for tomorrow in New York on his favorite show, Conan O'Brien.

He'd be a fool to pass it up. It would be a shame after all the dues he had paid not to do it. This was exposure on national bloody television - a dream come true. As sweet as the lure of being on the show and the publicity were, Spike's fears had him refusing at first, once he had heard that he would have to fly to New York.

His brother Wesley and father Rupert had set him straight on the matter. They had hammered home how important this was for him. The main thing that Wesley said that put things in perspective was that if Spike (nee William) wanted a successful career in music, he had to fly - there was no way around it. Better to start getting used to it now. Spike swore that his brother was part Vulcan with that infernal bloody logic. It would be a big let-down for the guys in the band if he didn't show, they were all excited about being on TV. Wesley had also knocked down Spike’s argument that he couldn’t leave his dog all alone. She got very upset when he left her and he didn’t want to put the poor dog through that. (Spike knew it was a weak argument. A last-ditch effort to get out of going). Wes volunteered to look after the dog for a few days at his apartment, and that was that.

So, here Spike sat, hands twisting in his lap, praying for a swift and painless death. He was like a man awaiting his own execution. It was the foreboding that made it worse. To die quickly would be a blessing. He redirected his thoughts towards the positive again. At least he was traveling First Class - that was something. Things would be worse if he were packed into coach like so much cattle.

‘Shit...Wonder when they start serving drinks? Probably not ‘til after we leave the ground...Why didn’t I take the bloody valium!? I need a drink and a smoke--Why can’t I fucking smoke!? Oh fuck--I’m losin’ my shit--I’m going to start freaking out and they’ll put me in a fucking straitjacket! I’ve got to calm down!’


 

Buffy dragged her feet all the way up the ramp to the plane, as if the Grim Reaper himself were beckoning to her with a skeletal hand at the end.

Why couldn’t her mother do this again? Oh, right. Joyce had to meet with another buyer in San Diego. Buffy had begged and pleaded with her mother to let her drive to San Diego instead of getting on a plane and flying across the country to New York. Did Joyce help her? Did she try to help her daughter? Noooo! Of course not! Joyce said that there was no way out of it and Buffy had better try getting over her irrational fear. So, it was either let everyone down, or suck it up and get on the damn plane.

Buffy's fear of flying had started 5 years ago. She was 18 and getting on a plane to Paris with her high school French class. She had been so excited about seeing Paris and had saved money over an entire summer for it. But something happened to her when she sat in her seat. Her heart started racing, beyond excitement, into fear territory. Her breathing became more rapid. Her chest was tight and constricted. Buffy had clutched at her seatmate's arm next to her. Wheezing and saying that she was having a heart attack or something. She was positive that she was dying. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think. Her mind raced, starting and stopping at the worst fear she had ever experienced. Whatever was happening to her, it was horrifying. There had been a big production as Buffy was led off of the plane and taken to the hospital.

The funny thing was that Buffy had started to feel better as soon as she de-planed. She was still shaken up though. The doctor had performed numerous tests on her. He concluded that it was just anxiety-related. Buffy had been stunned. How could something that felt that awful not mean something was very wrong? 'Just anxiety', he'd said...what she went thought wasn't just anything! How dare he make it seem trivial! She felt like the biggest idiot in the history of the world. She had missed out on the trip of a lifetime and embarrassed herself because of 'just anxiety'. Buffy had actually wished that something horrible really had been wrong with her. It would have justified the way she felt and everyone wouldn't have treated her like she was crazy.

At least Joyce had booked Buffy a First Class ticket. Buffy didn't bother pointing out that bribes didn't work when it came to full-blown panic. Joyce could have offered Buffy a naughty, no-holds-barred weekend with Hugh Frickin' Jackman and it wouldn't have made a difference. The only thing making her do this was the shame, humiliation and guilt she would feel at letting her mom and coworkers down if she didn't. She didn't want to look (or feel) like a crazy person again either.

Buffy came to her seat. She cursed silently when she saw that a blond man was sitting at the window seat next to her. She really didn't want anyone to see her as nervous as she would likely become.

She smiled weakly at the man sitting next to her. "Hi. Excuse me," Buffy said politely, stepping up to put her carry-on in the overhead compartment.

Spike looked up at her. 'Great. I have someone to witness my mental breakdown.'

He couldn't help but notice that she was good looking. That took his mind off his troubles for a moment.

Buffy sat down. She smiled with an effort at Spike. "Hi." Unaware that she had already said hi.

"Hi," Spike said.

Buffy sat down, took a magazine and started flipping through it. The man sitting next to her, was cute, but not her 'type'. What was he thinking with the bleached blond hair, anyway? She wondered what he would look like with his natural hair color. She liked her men tall, dark and handsome. She was happy to realize that she had successfully distracted herself by thinking about him. Then, of course, her nervousness reasserted itself because she had reminded herself of it. She groaned.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"Umm, no. I just saw that...," she looked at the magazine in her lap, "J Lo is thinking of having her ass insured by Lloyd's of London."

Spike laughed - the first time he had laughed in days. "Oh, isn't that interesting? If she did do that, I wonder how they'll go about appraising it?"

Buffy laughed - she hadn't felt like laughing since she had found out about this trip. "Yeah, I wonder. You're a man. Do you think her butt's that great?"

"Uhh, it's...nice," Spike said. "A bit too big for my tastes, but it's nicely shaped."

Buffy gave him a sideways smile. "Uh-huh. I--I'm Buffy, by the way."

"Spike." He smiled and shook her hand.

The handshake was an automatic thing, not something either of them thought about. They were both embarrassed by their sweaty, nervous palms.

"Sorry," Buffy said, sheepishly pulling her hand back and wiping it on her skirt. "I have palm sweat issues at the moment."

"No, luv, that's me. I'm sorry. Wasn't very considerate of me," Spike said, wiping his hand on his jeans.

The Captain's voice sounded. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Captain Finn, I'll be your pilot this evening. We're currently scheduled second for take-off. There should be no delays. We're flying straight through from L.A. to New York City, so we're going to be together for awhile. Let's all try to be courteous to our seat neighbors and the staff. Your flight attendants will give you safety instructions shortly. Buckle up, relax, and enjoy the flight. Thank you."

Buffy and Spike tensed when the plane started to move. The good humor of a few minutes ago was gone. Their hands went to the armrests, gripping them white-knuckled. Their faces were blank, only their eyes showed how frightened they were.

They looked at each other at the same time. Each had wanted to see if the other had noticed how scared they were.

"You okay?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah, I'm..." Spike gulped and turned his face to the window. "I feel like such a git--I'm bloody terrified of flying. I'm sweatin' bullets here."

"Me too. I hate flying," Buffy confessed in a rush. "I'm so close to jumping out that fucking window."

Spike laughed nervously, "Bloody hell, did we ever get the wrong seatmates. We're just going to drive each other insane."

A perky, blonde flight attendant stood at the front of the cabin. "Hello, my name's Harmony, and I'll be your flight attendant for this trip. I just know that we're going to have a fun flight and get along great! I'm going to go over safety instructions and what to do in case of an emergency." She smiled, showing off her pearly whites.

Spike groaned, "Do they have to bring up emergencies?"

Buffy groaned too, "I know - I really hate that. Just what I need to hear."

Harmony droned on in the background, explaining what to do in the event of a water landing and other horrific possibilities. At the end of her speech, she asked, "Any questions?"

Spike raised his hand. "Uh, yeah. When can we start drinking?"

Harmony and the other passengers laughed.

He leaned over to Buffy. "What? I wasn't joking!"

Buffy smiled and patted his hand. She could go for a drink or two herself.

Harmony said, "After we're in the air, I'll be checking to see if there's anything any of you need."

Spike nodded, hiding (or trying to) his anxiety and impatience. He wanted to scream, 'I need a bloody drink NOW, you cow!' But he controlled himself.

"Buckle your seatbelts," Harmony said. "We're just about to takeoff."

Spike and Buffy fumbled with their seatbelts.

"Can't get mine." Spike's voice was unsteady.

"Let me see." Buffy leaned over and fiddled with his seatbelt until it locked into place. "There, that's got it." Buffy meant to pat his leg, but to her mortification, she patted his crotch instead. "Oh!" She straightened up and put her hands over her mouth. "I'm sorry! It was an accident."

Spike's eyes had bugged out when she touched his area. That was nice - too bad she stopped. He smiled, trying not to show her how very much he didn't mind. "That's alright. Don't worry 'bout it."

Buffy was about to apologize again when the plane started moving faster. They were both pulled back into their fear-addled minds.

"Oh no!" Buffy sat up ramrod straight and gripped the armrests. She whispered, "Shit--Shit--Shit--Shit."

"It's--It's alr-right," Spike stuttered. "Planes--they're safer than cars--or something. Nothing to worry about!"

She wanted to cry, she was so scared. Spike glanced at her, knowing exactly what she was going through. His hand left his armrest and brushed against hers.

"You--want to hold my hand?" he asked. "If you don't mind a little sweat..."

Buffy grabbed onto his hand, giving him a small, grateful smile. They clasped hands tightly and leaned back into their seats as the plane tilted upwards. After a minute, the plane straightened out.

"Okay?" Spike asked, wiping his brow with the back of his other hand.

"N-Not really." Buffy's eyes were squeezed shut. "Oh God...I hate this..." she said in a small voice.

"Yeah, me too, luv. But...we're on our way, right? We'll be there before we know it."

"Right...yeah. It'll be over like that--" Buffy tried snapping her fingers unsuccessfully.

"And since it's nighttime, we can even sleep through most of it, yeah?"

"You think you can sleep?" she asked.

"Not a bloody chance," Spike admitted with a sigh.


 

The two nervous flyers were relieved when drink service began. They both had more than a few alcoholic beverages, helping them to loosen up and let go of some of their anxiety.

"What's the in-flight movie, then?" Spike wondered, looking for his magazine.

Buffy found hers and looked up the information. "Ewww--It's 'Glitter'!"

"Oh balls," he sighed. "Well, maybe we can make fun of it."

"I don't have the energy to make fun of it." Buffy leaned back, gulping down her vodka tonic. "But what the hell, it's not like we have a lot of options."

They watched, and riffed on the movie, making each other laugh a lot. Then it was over and they had nothing to do again.

"Wanna play cards?" Spike brought out a pack of playing cards from his leather jacket. "I was going to play solitaire, but if you want something to do..."

She really just wanted to relax, but could see that he wanted or needed interaction. It was fun talking to him and it did help take her mind off of bad stuff. "Sure, why not."

They talked as they played.

"So...what do you do? For a living, I mean," Spike asked.

"I work with my mother at her art gallery. She's the wonderful, compassionate person who insisted that I be the one to fly to New York. I must have called her every name in the book."

Spike raised his eyebrows. "Really? She must've been right pissed."

"Well...I didn't say the names to her face. I wanted to, though. I may be 23, but my mom could still kick my ass."

They laughed.

"My mom is evil, so that's why I'm here. I have to meet with a buyer and arrange to have some pieces shipped. What about you? What do you do for a living?"

Spike didn't want to confess to being a rising rock star. It seemed like people changed whenever he mentioned it. They'd start treating him differently just because they thought he was rich and famous. So he fudged the truth - just a bit.

"I play guitar."

"Oh? Are you famous?" Buffy smiled.

"Do you know me?" He smirked.

"Um...no."

"Then I'm not famous," he joked. "Maybe I will be someday. Stranger things have happened."

"Who were your musical influences?" Buffy asked.

"My dad was the first," Spike said fondly. "He used to play guitar for me and my brother when we were little. Lots of Pink Floyd and The Who. After him, I'd have to say Jimmy Page and Clapton. Both masters of their instruments."

Buffy nodded and cleared her throat to keep from giggling. 'Masters of their instruments--hehehe! Wow, I think I'm starting to get tipsy. I'm thinking like Beavis & Butthead.'

"Are you flying because of your job?" she asked.

"Yeah, my bandmates are already in New York...We're doin' a show there."

"Oh, that's cool! Letting the east coast get a taste."

Buffy thought he meant that he was just performing at a club.

"Something like that, yeah. We gonna talk--or are we gonna play cards?" Spike said, cocking an eyebrow and smiling.

"You're goin' down," Buffy said, then stopped herself from giggling again.


They played hand after hand of Slap Jack, Go Fish and War. After the initial personal questions, they talked about themselves very little. Everything was about the card game, the nice buzz they were getting from the drinks or their favorite celebrities, movies and TV shows--trivial non-important stuff. They hadn't even thought to exchange last names.

After a while, they quit playing and settled back in their seats to relax.

Spike was able to doze off thanks to the drinks he'd had. Buffy read a magazine. She looked over at him, taking the opportunity to check him out more without seeming like a perv. He was wearing a tight, red t-shirt and faded, lived-in blue jeans--which were also tight. He didn't look like a First Class type, but he obviously got the money from somewhere. Maybe a relative paid his way. There appeared to be some nice muscles under his clothes, so he must work out. Nice arms, too. Defined and strong-looking, without being bulky. His blond hair was a little messy, like someone had ruffled his hair and he hadn't bothered to fix it. The color of his hair wasn't as bad as she had first thought. It kind of suited him. His facial features became more pleasing to the eye the longer she looked. Gorgeous, blue eyes; really nice lips; incredible cheekbones. She could see teeny-boppers going apeshit for him easily if he ever made it big.

Spike was a hottie, but still not her preferred 'type'. Buffy stifled a girlish giggle as she recalled patting his crotch. He seemed to be pretty well-endowed based on the unintentional grope she'd given him. She could tell he was packin', unless he had shoved a sock or something down his pants. She also surmised that he 'dressed to the left'.

Buffy shook her head and leaned back with a feminine smile. She was starting to get hot thinking about him--too much booze, way too much booze.


 

A bolt of lightning flashed outside the window. Their eyes shot open.

"What was that?" Spike sat up, blinking.

"I think it's a storm..." Buffy said.

Rain started pelting heavily against the window.

The Captain's voice came over the speakers, "We're heading into a storm front. There will likely be some turbulence as we pass through it. Please fasten your seatbelts and stay seated."

Spike looked out the window. "Great--bloody turbulence. Gonna scare the buzz right outta me."

They both looked out the window. The pitch black darkness was broken repeatedly by flashes of light.

Spike surprised her by laughing.

"If there's something funny, please let me in on it," Buffy said, her hand creeping back to envelop his again.

Spike turned his hand over, readily accepting her dainty one and holding it. "I was just thinking of that creature on the wing of the plane--"

"There's a creature on the wing of the plane!?" Buffy leaned over him, looking with startled eyes out the window.

"No, There's--there's nothing out there." He didn't mind her practically laying across his lap at all.

Buffy sat back up. "Then why did you say that?" She felt stupid for believing it, but her thoughts were so jumbled that it seemed plausible--for a moment.

"I was referring to that old 'Twilight Zone' episode. The one with Shatner, you ever seen it?"

"Oh...yeah. I saw some of it once--but anything with planes wigs me out," she said, lowering her head.

"I know how you feel." Spike squeezed her hand.

They smiled lightly at each other. The plane shook.

"Oh God!" Buffy gasped, clutching Spike's hand.

"It's okay! Just t-turbulence." Spike tried to keep calm, but was having a hard time with it. "I need a smoke. Bloody fucking Nazis won't let you light up anymore!" he said, his voice getting higher and more agitated.

They each closed their eyes, holding hands and praying silently.

"You praying, too?" Buffy asked.

"You know it, luv. I'm praying to all of them to cover my bases. Jesus, Allah, Buddha--I love you all!" he said jovially (but really meant it).

Buffy laughed anxiously, sounding a little deranged. "Good plan. I'll try that, too."

In their minds' eyes they could see the worst happening--the plane going down in a fiery crash. They were terrified.

The plane stopped shaking. They breathed out loudly and grinned at each other in relief.

"See? It worked." Spike smirked.

Buffy giggled, "You're a great--"

Just then, a deafening crack of thunder sounded right outside the plane. Buffy gasped and squeezed Spike's hand painfully. Spike didn't notice the pressure she was exerting, he was too scared and squeezing back. The thunder was instantly followed by a lightning strike. The loud boom sounded like a bomb going off. The plane pitched violently as the #4 engine was hit.

Buffy screamed, flinging her arms around Spike's neck and holding onto him. He would have enjoyed having her in his arms under different circumstances. But all he felt now was mortal terror. His arms went around her, too.

"Lightning hit the plane!" Buffy said in panic. "We're going to die!"

Other passengers were also frightened.

Spike held Buffy tight. He could barely breathe. "No--No, we'll be alright!"

Buffy sobbed on his shoulder.

Harmony went quickly up the aisle, comforting and reassuring passengers as she went. She repeatedly said, "Please, don't panic. We are almost through the storm and close to the airport. Lightning did hit the plane, but we're still completely capable of reaching our destination safely. Try to relax and keep calm."

"Keep calm?!" Buffy said, her eyes wild. "Is she serious!?"

"Please, luv--Try--to be calm." Spike was finding it difficult not to give into his own panic. Any second now he might freak out.

"We're going to die in a fireball and you want me to calm down!?" Buffy panicked.

"Stop it!" Spike snapped. "Just shut your bloody mouth! I'm about to piss myself as it is--I don't need you saying that shit!"

Buffy looked shocked, then burst into tears. She covered her face with her hands, weeping loudly. Spike instantly regretted yelling at her like that.

"Buffy--I'm sorry. I didn't--" He tried to touch her arm, but she pulled away.

"Leave me alone!" she hissed. She unbuckled her seatbelt, then ran towards the restrooms.

She was more afraid than she'd ever been and she was embarrassed by her behavior. She could at least try to die with some dignity, but that wasn't possible.

"Buffy--Where are you going!? You're not supposed to get up--" Spike whispered harshly.

But Buffy was already gone.

Spike needed to get her back and safely buckled into her seat. He also didn't want to die alone. Even if he could just hold her hand when--it--happened. He was convinced that they were going to die--in a few minutes, an hour--he didn't know. But he was sure it was going to happen.

He struggled to undo his seatbelt, some colorful British curse words were mumbled under his breath. Finally, he got it undone. First checking to make sure the stewardess wouldn't see him, he got up and went quickly back to the restrooms. Harmony was busy with the other passengers, or she would have made him get back to his seat.

Spike rapped on the ladies' room door. "Buffy? Buffy, please come out." He was amazed that he was able to keep his voice steady.

"No! Leave me alone!" Buffy cried.

"Please, luv--I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"Go away!" Buffy said through the door. "What--Do you want to slap the stupid, hysterical woman like they do in the movies or something?! Let me die in peace!"

The time for pretending to be tough was over. Spike couldn't keep the fear out of his wavering voice. "Please...open the door. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'm just...so bloody scared. I don't want to be alone." Spike rested his forehead against the door, trying not to cry or scream--or both. Please..." A tear escaped his left eye.

Spike almost fell inside when the door suddenly opened. Buffy pulled him in the ladies' room, shut and locked the door, then hugged him strongly. She sobbed against his chest. Spike gratefully hugged her back just as tightly, stroking her back and her silky hair. They could feel the other's heart beating wildly.

Buffy's voice was muffled against him, "I'm only 23--I don't want to die! I hope my fucking mother will be happy! I didn't want to come--I didn't want to!"

"I didn't want to get on this bloody plane either, pet. I know." He tried joking a little, "Sure you want to spend your last moments in an airplane loo?"

Buffy pulled back, her serious green eyes meeting his deep blue ones. With the utmost conviction, she said, "Have sex with me."

Spike blinked, sure that he must have misunderstood her. "What?"

"Sex. Have sex with me--right now!" Her hands started roaming over his stomach and sides, pulling his t-shirt out. "I want to feel good--I want to feel something good!"

Spike grabbed her hands and stared at her. "I--I can't. I couldn't get--excited enough."

"But...you would if you could?" she asked insistently.

"Yes...but--"

Buffy took his face in her hands and crushed her mouth to his. Spike's arms flailed for a moment before he wrapped them around her again. They devoured each other's lips, nipping and biting.

Spike groaned when Buffy's hands moved down to his bulge and cupped him roughly. She kissed him hungrily, desperately. Her tongue invaded his mouth, sweeping over and dueling with his. Her hands unbuckled his belt, then unzipped his tight jeans.

Spike was enjoying and responding to the groping and kisses--but he still wasn't hard. Buffy pushed him against the door and fell to her knees, yanking his pants down his thighs in the process.

'Must get him hard!' she thought. She did a double-take. He wore no underwear and he was quite gifted. So that was all him that she had felt before--No sock or produce, just a nice, big, thick cock. It was the most beautiful penis she'd ever seen, like something Michelangelo might have carved, only much bigger.

Buffy took his member in her hand and began caressing it. Without hesitation (despite never having done it before), she took the head into her mouth, licking and sucking on it. Watching a porno of two over the years gave her the knowledge on basically what to do.

Spike threw his head back against the door and moaned, "Uhhh--Buffy!"

Their own impending doom was temporarily forgotten. Buffy flicked her tongue around the knob, bringing her other hand to his ball sac and massaging it. She could feel him rapidly stiffening and swelling in her mouth and hands. She kept up her ministrations until his rod stood up, tall and proud. She stood up, one hand still stroking up and down his hard shaft. Spike's eyes were closed in pleasure, he breathed deeply. Buffy leaned heavily on him, plastering her mouth over his parted lips.

Spike's arms came up to surround her. He backed her up to the sink, then boosted Buffy up to sit on the edge. Their tongues tangled and probed. Their hands opened and pushed aside the other's clothes quickly: His t-shirt was stripped off; her blouse was unbuttoned and her bra cups pushed down to free her rosy-nippled breasts; her skirt was pushed up and her panties slipped down her smooth legs. Spike tossed the pink panties aside as their fiery kisses went on and on.

Spike lowered his mouth to her chest, sucking on her nipples. Buffy mewled and arched her back, her legs locked around his back. His hand went between them, his fingers delving into her hot pussy. They both moaned. He got harder at the feel of her wetness and heat. She squealed at the feel of his long fingers touching her sensitive flesh. His thumb rubbed her hard clit, his thumb ring sending some extra good tingles shooting through her core.

Buffy ran her hands over his muscular back, delighting in how hard and tight his body was. His body was definitely a good one to go out with a bang with. If only she could have met him a few years ago...

"Mmmm--Ohh--Ohh yeah!" Buffy breathed, thrusting her pelvis at him. She craved more of the sensations that he was causing in her body.

Spike sucked at her tits savagely.

"Fuck me, Spike! Fuck me now!" she pleaded.

Spike covered her mouth with his in a smoldering kiss as he slid his dick inside of her. They moaned into each other's mouth, clasping at each other, pulling each other close. Buffy moved her legs under his ass and locked her ankles, pulling him deep inside of her pussy. They gasped when he was fully encased in her fiery heat. He swallowed and began moving slowly within her.

"Ohhh--Buffy--Fuck! You feel so good--Oh God! So fucking good!"

"Ahh yes! Ohhhh--Spike! Faster--Harder! FUCK ME!"

Spike kissed her lips ravenously, pumping her harder and faster. Buffy yelled in pleasure, hanging onto his shoulders for dear life as he fucked the hell out of her. Her ass slipped on the sink, causing them to falter in their frenzied rhythm for a moment. Spike gripped her under her thighs, hoisting her up around his waist. He stumbled back into the door. Buffy ground herself down onto his cock, pumping with her legs.

"So deep! Christ--Oh fuck!" Buffy panted, rising and falling on him.

Buffy had never had it 'put to her' so good. His cock reached places that she didn't even know existed within her. Every thrust, every stroke, was pure bliss.

Spike grasped her ass, squeezing and helping her move up and down. He spun them around, putting her back against the door. With better leverage, he started fucking her even more energetically--pounding into her twitching pussy like it had never been pounded before.

Buffy wailed and moaned. Her ass thudded against the door--Baboom!--Baboom!--Baboom! All thoughts of dying from anything but a mind-blowing fuck were erased from her mind. She wanted him to fuck her until the end of time itself. She held onto him, one arm around his neck, the other scratching and digging into the flesh of his left arm.

They both shouted at once, their eyes shooting open and staring into the other's.

"Oh Spike! Ohhh--Uhhhhhh--YES!"

"Fuck--Buffy--Unnnngga!"

Their bodies shuddered and jerked violently as their climaxes overwhelmed them. They moved together--their shouts tapering off to moans. Spike sighed and nuzzled her neck. Buffy rubbed her face on the side of his neck. Hot breaths puffed on the other's skin. Their eyes slid closed in rapture. He gently started lowering her legs to the floor. But Buffy wrapped her legs tighter around his slim waist, keeping his cock inside of her sheath.

"Let's...stay like this. Just a little longer," she said.

Buffy had never felt so satisfied. They had had simultaneous orgasms - that was something she had never achieved with any of her boyfriends. God, it was good! To feel his cock pulsing and pumping hot, creamy spunk into her while she spasmed around him. It was perfect.

Spike didn't protest. He would gladly stay embedded in this blonde goddess forever. He held her up, kissing the side of her neck softly.

They both remembered what had spurred their spontaneous coupling--crippling fear and imminent death. They held each other, savoring the other's quivering body and the pleasure that lingered and tingled in their bodies.

There was a sharp knock at the door.

"Hey!" Harmony's voice sounded from the other side of the door. Their eyes opened wide. "Sorry to interrupt mating season, but will you two get out of there!? We just landed at JFK. Time to get off--Although it sounds like you beat the rest of us to it. Geez!" She walked away from the door shaking her head. Her fake, cheerful smile sprang up for the benefit of the other passengers.

"We're...not going to die?" Buffy asked, afraid to believe it.

Spike pulled back, his face lit up in the happiest (and most adorable) expression that Buffy had ever seen. "You heard her! We landed--We're safe! Oh thank fucking God! I thought God would kill me before he let me be a success!" He hugged her.

They laughed and hugged each other in relief.

Then it dawned on Buffy. She had just begged a stranger to fuck her in an airplane restroom. He was still firmly encased inside of her pussy and their combined juices were dripping out of her.

"We...should get dressed," Buffy said flatly.

Spike heard the embarrassed note in her voice. She only did this because she thought that she was going to die--and now...

"Yeah, dressed," he said.

Spike set her down on the floor and looked away. They put their clothes back in order in silence, then smoothed back their hair.

'Why isn't she saying anything? Is it that horrible that we shagged without dying at the end?' he thought.

'He isn't saying anything...I can't believe I did this--I'm a giant slut! Oh God--What do I say?' she thought.

Spike hid his own feelings and tried to make her feel better. "Listen, pet--What happened between us...it was just two people seeking some comfort. Don't feel guilty or bad for it. It wasn't smart. It wasn't the most productive idea on how to deal with what we were going through...but it happened. It's done now. And it served its purpose. I know it...made me feel good and forget my troubles. No harm done. Now we can go our separate ways, yeah?"

"Uh...yeah. I'm...so relieved!" Buffy let out a breath. "That's...how I feel too. I--didn't know how to act." She wasn't a half-bad actress. When he said that, she felt--What?--Disappointment? Hurt?

Spike smiled, his eyes shining. "No worries." He started to open the door, then turned back to look into her eyes. "Thank you. It...I couldn't have gotten through that without you." Spike leaned in and gave her a soft kiss on the lips, lingering for a few moments.

Buffy was still leaning into the tender kiss when he pulled away and left the lavatory. Her eyes were still closed when she heard the door click open and then shut again. She swayed slightly. That was a very nice kiss. His mouth was made for kisses, just like that one. His eyes were positively dazzling. His voice deep and musical. His body...his body was a finely tuned machine, beautiful. And could he perform!

'Shit--Stop it! He...made his feelings crystal clear. Don't be an idiot and ask for his number. Just chalk it up to the naughtiest thing you've ever done and...let it go. Get on with your life.'

Buffy checked herself in the mirror one final time. She looked presentable, though there was a sadness that she wanted to deny in her eyes. No more Spike--ever? She'd never feel him moving inside of her--pleasuring her again? She shook her head and left the restroom, going back to her seat.

Spike was sitting in his seat, turned to face the window, shielding his face with a hand. A few of the other passengers broke into grins when they saw her and a few of them began clapping. Buffy's face turned beet red. She dropped into her seat and covered her face with her right hand.

"They heard," Spike said unnecessarily.

“Oh God,” Buffy groaned miserably. “How did we miss the announcement that we were landing?” she whispered.

"Err...umm...we just missed it somehow."

They both flashed on their initiation into the Mile High Club--the groping, the loud moaning and excellent humping. They had been so into the act and each other, that they didn't hear anything outside of their own exclamations and heavy breathing.

"You'll never see any of them again, luv. Don't let it bother you."

Spike couldn't quite bring himself to look at her directly. He had had his share of women in his life, but none had compared to or felt as 'right' as Buffy.

' That's only because of the fear and thinking I was going to die,' he told himself. 'That's all it was. Doesn't matter--she's not interested anyway. It's all just an embarrassing situation to her now--one that she'd rather forget.'

They both wanted to say something more--but held back because of mistaken beliefs.

'Just ask him where he's staying. We...shared something profound. We bonded over the near death thing. No...I can't. I'll look like an idiot. God--I feel like I'm fifteen.' Buffy bit her lip.

"Thank you for flying Trans-America Airlines." Harmony smiled brightly. "We're sorry for the bumpy flight and hope you will choose to fly with us again."

The passengers grabbed their carry-ons and gratefully left the plane, anxious to end the nerve-wracking flight. Buffy took her bag out of the overhead compartment and looked at Spike--trying to force herself to say what she wanted to.

"Bye, Spike. Thanks for...everything and being there when I really needed someone."

Spike nodded, a small smile turned up his lips. "Same to you, luv. Take care."

Buffy was opening her mouth to ask where he was staying, but Harmony bumped into her.

"You have to leave now," Harmony said icily. "No more porking on the plane. I could so totally have you arrested for that."

Buffy's face flushed, and she hurried off the plane without looking back.


Minutes later, Buffy waited at the baggage claim for her luggage to come by.

'I shouldn't have run off like that. I should have asked him if he wanted to walk with me to get our bags. I should have asked for his number--even if he thought I was a stupid bimbo, at least I would have tried. Maybe I'll see him here--Yeah--He has to get his bags too. Then I'll talk to him like I should have.'

Buffy looked around, searching the faces in the crowd for Spike. She'd do it. She'd tell him that she was interested in getting together with him again and getting to know him better. Now, she just had to find him...

There was a big commotion with photographers and a lot of people crowding around someone. Was there a celebrity in the airport? She tried standing on her tiptoes to get a look at the person (or persons) that everyone was moving with, but her 5'2" frame didn't permit her to see over everyone's heads.

Buffy shrugged and cast her gaze back around the baggage carousel, waiting to see Spike come to retrieve his luggage.

She waited for a half hour without seeing him before giving up. She cursed herself for being such a wimp and not talking honestly with him when she had the chance. There were a few other good reasons to speak to him again--they hadn't used a rubber when they had sex. Buffy was current on her birth control, so that didn't worry her (too much). But there was always the possibility of disease. Something told her that Spike didn't give her anything horrid (it was just a gut feeling), but it would be a relief to actually confirm with him that he was clean. It didn't appear that Buffy would get the chance to ask him--about anything.


The moment Spike had come down the ramp from the plane, he was swamped with fans, his security people and Angel (his friend and manager). Angel put an arm around Spike's shoulders and hustled him along.

"Heard about the bumpy ride you had up there," Angel said loudly to be heard over the crowd. "You okay?"

"Yeah...Fine." Spike tried to see past the people deluging him, hoping to catch a glimpse of Buffy.

"Good. The limo's out front, we just have to get out of here in one piece."

The security guards plowed a path through the photographers, fans and curious onlookers past baggage claim and through the airport to the waiting car.

'Guess I'll never see her again...' Spike thought forlornly. He jumped into the limo and was whisked away to the hotel.


TBC...

Chapter 2: Could It Be I'm Falling In Love?


Spike's bandmates (Xander, Oz, Percy and Devon) embraced him at the hotel, happy to see him safe after the harrowing flight. They knew about his fear of flying and felt bad for badgering him about coming to New York., though it really was necessary.

"So what happened up there, man?" Xander asked, sitting on a plush couch in Spike's luxury suite.

"I'd rather not relive it, thanks." Spike got a beer and took a few healthy swallows.

"Still, you made it, right?" Oz said. "You proved to yourself that you could do it."

"Ha!--I never want to go through that again! I'm walkin' back to California, if I have to."

Angel sighed. "I know it was traumatic, but we're going to have to fly back in two days. We have a gig at the Viper Room."

Spike groaned, rubbing his hand over his face. "Great--I have to get right back on a bloody plane after that shit. You'd better have some real good drugs for me, mate. 'Cos I'm not getting on a plane sober."

"The company is sending their private jet for us this time," Angel said, hoping that would make it better. "You won't have to deal with anyone but us."

"The other passengers weren't the bloody problem," Spike mumbled, thinking of Buffy. "In fact there was this..."

They looked at him expectantly.

"Never mind."

"No, did you meet someone? A cute chick, perhaps?" Devon asked with a smile.

They could tell by Spike's face that he had met someone. He looked kind of sheepish and shy about it.

"Hey, did you score on the plane?" Percy nudged him. "Huh? Oh shit--He did!" he laughed, pointing at Spike.

"Shut up." Spike pushed him back.

"Uh-huh. The flight wasn't as terrible as you would have had us believe," Xander chuckled. "Unless she wasn't any good...or turned out to be a dude or something."

"Just...forget it, alright?" Spike said. He didn't want to share the experience with them, it was private.

Angel laughed and poured himself a glass of Scotch. "Leave it to Spike to find a hot and horny slut on the plane."

"She's not a slut!" Spike said vehemently, startling them.

Angel looked at him, speaking slowly, "Okay...she's not a slut. Sorry." He frowned. "This girl got to you, huh?"

"Look...I really don't want to talk about it. Sorry I blew up at you, but...I just had a bad experience with almost dying and everything. I need some rest."

Angel nodded. "Go get some sleep then. We want you to be ready for Conan tomorrow. That goes for all of you." He pointed at each of the band members. "I want you all well-rested for the show. This is your first television appearance, so you have to look and sound your best. Hit the hay. All of you."

"You gonna tell us to wash behind our ears and brush our teeth too, Angel?" Xander rolled his eyes.

"You'd forget to wash your dick if I didn't tell you to--Wayward boys like you need to be given direction. Get to bed," Angel said, smirking at Xander.

They grumbled about being told to go to bed like a bunch of kids, but did as Angel said.

Spike quickly got ready for bed, then fell onto the mattress. He felt bone-weary tired, and had a touch of jet lag if he wasn't mistaken. He couldn't stop thinking about Buffy. He saw her smiling and gazing back at him every time he closed his eyes. It hadn't occurred to him until much later, but he realized that their impromptu encounter had been 'protection-free'. That worried him. He knew that he was in perfect health, and Buffy had to be too. He knew instinctively that he had nothing to worry about as far as that went. But...what about pregnancy? What if Buffy got pregnant? Years down the line he might see her again with a little Spike or Spikette in her arms, accusing him of being a bad father. No--that couldn't happen--could it? He prayed that Buffy used birth control regularly. Spike put those troubling thoughts out of his mind (for now), as they weren't productive and just would serve to drive him crazy.

It took some time for him to fall asleep, and when he did, he dreamed of being in her arms again.


 

Buffy got back to her hotel room after her meeting with the art buyer the next day. She kicked off her high heels and laid on the bed, stretching out and relaxing.

She needed a nap after her busy morning. She dreamed of being with Spike again. This time there was no imminent danger or urgency. They were leisurely stroking and worshipping each other's bodies on a huge bed with red silk sheets. They had all the time in the world.

Buffy woke up just as her dream-self was being filled with his big cock. She looked around in confusion, her body thrumming with excitement.

"Grrrrr! Sonuvabitch! Dammit!" Buffy pounded on the bed and pouted, upset that it was only a dream.

Last night her dreams had been about him too. She wanted to see him again so bad, but she had no idea where to even begin looking. And if she tracked him down, that would seem a tad too pathetic...wouldn't it? Especially if Spike was content to let 'them' remain a nice memory.

She talked to herself, "Am I falling in love with him? This is crazy...I don't even really know him...Maybe I'm just in lust with him? Is it just because of the highly emotional experience we shared or--Shit--I'm so confused."

Buffy covered her face with her hands. Her mind kept wandering in circles. It was very frustrating.

But the fact remained, she still hungered to feel his touch, to see his face. No matter the reasons, she still craved Spike.

She remembered how it felt when he held her hand in his, how adorable he looked when he was asleep, how he made her laugh, his beatific smile when they found out that they were safely back on the ground. Spike seemed like a funny, sensitive and interesting guy. She already knew that he was very good at sex stuff. Yep, it was more than just lust.


 

Buffy did her best to keep her mind occupied and not to dwell on hot, blonde Englishmen. She went and had dinner at a nice pizzeria and went to see the musical, 'Chicago'. It was fun - but she was all alone. She was lonely and felt like a doofus dining and sitting by herself.

She also called her mother, filling her in on the terrible flight. Joyce had been aghast and apologetic. She could have lost her baby girl by sending her to New York. Buffy didn't tell Joyce anything about Spike and she certainly didn't tell her what they'd done in the lavatory. Joyce promised to do everything that she could to make it up to her daughter: a raise in pay, time off from work, the promise never to make her get on another plane, etc. Anything Buffy would accept to let her know how sorry she was.

Buffy was pleased that her mother was properly horrified about it. Though...she wouldn't have met Spike and received comfort from him if she didn't get on the plane. But maybe that would have been for the best. Now she couldn't get Spike out of her head, and there was no way she could find him again.

Later that night, Buffy was in bed, tossing and turning. She had the TV on for some background noise as she tried in vain to sleep. The nap she'd taken earlier had left her unable to sleep when she was supposed to.

She heard the opening music for Late Night with Conan O'Brien, noting it absently. Buffy loved watching Late Night, but she needed to sleep, not stay up watching TV all night. She tuned out the show, for the most part. Until...

Conan said, "Our next guests are a group who have just released their self-titled, first album--" Women started screaming in the audience. He showed a CD to the camera. "Yes, here's what you've been waiting for. Help me welcome Oz, Devon, Percy, Xander and Spike--The Big Bad!"

The screams got louder.

Buffy bolted upright in bed, staring at the TV screen. Her heart was doing double-time in her chest as she fumbled for the remote and turned up the volume. She watched Spike--Wild, passionate, hot, sweaty, funny, sexy, airplane loo sex Spike--as he took his place in the middle of the stage, surrounded by his band. He had a red electric guitar strapped on his body.

"Oh my God...It's him! Why didn't he tell me he was going to be on TV!? He said he wasn't famous...I'm not dreaming, am I?"

She pinched herself to be sure. Nope. She was awake. She was really seeing this.

Spike looked scrumptious: His hair was wild and sticking up. He had on another form-fitting pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt. Buffy could have just eaten him up.

The lights in the studio dimmed. Spike leaned into the microphone, beginning to sing in a deep bluesy voice, with just Percy on an acoustic guitar accompanying him.

"Now summertime's here babe, need somethin' to keep you cool Ah, now summertime's here babe, need somethin' to keep you cool Better look out now though, The Big Bad's got somethin' for you Tell ya what it is

I'm your ice cream man, stop me when I'm passin' by Oh my, my, I'm your ice cream man, stop me when I'm passin' by See now all my flavors are guaranteed to satisfy Hold on a second baby

I got puddin' pie, banana dixie cups All flavors and pushups too

I'm your ice cream man baby, stop me when I'm passin' by See now all my flavors are guaranteed to satisfy--Hold on, one more

Well I'm usually passin' by just about eleven o'clock Uh huh, I never stop I'm usually passin' by just around eleven o'clock And if you let me cool you one time, you'll be my regular stop"

The rest of the band joined in, playing hard and heavy. Spike sang louder, and began playing his electric guitar.

"I got puddin' pie, banana dixie cups All flavors and pushups too

I'm your ice cream man, stop me when I'm passin' by See now all my flavors are guaranteed to satisfy, yes I'm your ice cream man, stop me when I'm passin' by I'm your ice cream man, stop me when I'm passin' by They say all my flavors are guaranteed to satisfy "

Spike's fingers flew over the struts and frets for a rollicking guitar solo. He made the cutest faces while he played--intense concentration and an almost...orgasmic expression. Buffy sighed dreamily, getting onto her knees and watching from the bed.

"I'm your ice cream man, stop me when I'm passin' by I'm your ice cream man, stop me when I'm passin' by They say all my flavors are guaranteed to satisfy

Come on, boys! I'm your ice cream man I'm your ice cream man B-B-B-B-B-B-B-Baby! Ah my my my"

The instruments stopped. Spike sang in a throaty, sexy-as-all-hell voice:

"All my flavors are guarantee-eee-heeed......to satis-uh-fy--Oh! Unnhh!"

Spike jumped up in the air on the final note, finishing up with a flourish.

The audience applauded, girls screamed.

Conan walked over, shaking Spike's hand. "Wow! That was great!" Then Conan turned to the camera. "We'll be right back!" Conan shook the other band member's hands as they went to commercial.

Buffy was speechless. Spike was a rock star. She couldn't imagine why he hadn't told her anything beyond, 'I play guitar'. If Buffy were a musician about to go on national television, she'd tell everyone she came in contact with. Spike was obviously a strange guy--a strange, sexy guy. Seeing him singing and hearing his sizzling-hot, sensual voice had made her wet with arousal. Man, she had it bad!

When the show came back on she watched fixedly. The band was sitting to Conan's right - Spike in the chair next to the desk and the rest of the guys on the couch.

Females in the audience screamed, "We (I) love you!".

"Keep cool, my babies!" Conan said in a funny, hipster voice. "There's plenty o' Consey to go around--huh-huh-huh," he said, smoothing down his eyebrows. "Sorry, guys, the ladies just can't get enough of me--They're out of control. It's been like this all night."

The guys in the band laughed.

"What can you do? They love ya, mate," Spike said.

Conan got to the interview, talking to the band about their debut album and the different styles of music they used. Then he said, "Spike, I heard you had quite an experience flying to New York."

Spike and Buffy's eyes widened.

"Hmm?" Spike asked, sucking on his bottom lip.

Conan explained, "The plane you were on almost had to do an emergency landing, right?"

"Oh--Yeah, that's true." Spike's mind had gone directly to having sex with Buffy, not the plane troubles. "That was bloody awful. I hate flying as it is--I'm taking a train, bus or horse drawn carriage back to L.A. These wankers," Spike jerked his thumb at his bandmates, "came here ahead of me, so they avoided the whole near death experience."

They bantered a bit more about plane travel, then got back to discussing the band and their future appearances. They were going to kick off a tour of the U.S. in two months.

"You guys are performing at the Electric Pussycat Club tomorrow before you head back west?"

"Yeah," Spike answered. "We're doing two shows, tonight and tomorrow night. We've never played there, so it should be fun."

Conan looked at the camera, his eyes wild. "You--Yes, you, watching this at home! Go see the band play--I command thee!"

They all laughed.

Buffy blinked. Conan's command had worked on her, at least. She had an intense desire to go see them at the club.

"It was great to meet all of you, and good luck on your tour! You guys are really going to take off. The Big Bad, ladies and gentlemen." The audience clapped and hooted. Conan held up their CD. "Their eponymous CD is available in a store near you. Go buy it, great stuff. We'll be right back." He shook all of their hands again as they went to the break.

Buffy hadn't heard of the band before. But that wasn't surprising, considering that she hardly paid attention to new music. She was grateful that Spike's group wasn't one of those 'boy bands'--they actually played instruments and some good ol' fashioned Rock 'n Roll. The rest of the guys in the band were very, very cute too. No wonder girls were screaming their heads off for them. But Spike was definitely the hottest hottie in the bunch.

"I wonder where that club is?" she thought aloud.

Could she show up and say hi? Should she?


For the next few hours, Buffy fretted about what she should do and tried to get at least a little sleep. The early morning news came on, a report caught her attention.

The female anchor was saying, "And police had their hands full with crowd control outside of the Manhattan Hilton today." There was footage of young women of all shapes and sizes screaming and jumping up and down behind police barricades. "This was due to the musical group 'The Big Bad' staying at the hotel. The band has attracted a large following since they released their first album last month."

There was a taped segment of a policeman talking about how crazy it was that all these people came down, just hoping to catch a glimpse of some band. He said how grateful he would be when it was over.

"We also talked to Angel O'Connor, the band's manager, about the situation," the anchorwoman said.

They cut to a shot of Angel in the hotel lobby. "It's amazing--mind-blowing. We never expected this kind of response, it's very flattering. We regret the strain it puts on the police and people trying to travel on the street, but there's not much we can do about it. The guys are blown away by it and are grateful to all of the fans and well-wishers."

The reporter interviewing him asked, "You weren't prepared for this big a turn out in front of the hotel?"

"No, and it was short-sighted of us not to. We've had to scramble to get proper police protection and hire additional security. It's all worth it, though. It's great to know that the band has excited people like this. We're all eager to start the tour and hope that we get even half as enthusiastic a reaction when we're on the road."

Buffy knew where he was staying now. She could call and ask for him in the morning. That would be better than showing up at the club where she might get lost in the crowd.

The decision made, she settled back under the covers, hoping that the she could see him again the next day.


 

Spike laid in bed on his back, thinking about the gig at the club. It had gone well for the most part. The crowd was animated and energetic and the guys all played their hearts out. There was a little reverb from one of the speakers, but it wasn't too bad.

He sighed, his thoughts returning to his encounter with Buffy for the umpteenth time. The sex was amazing, he had fun talking to her, she was beautiful and had such luminous eyes. The way she had looked when she smiled or laughed made him melt--just remembering it made him feel warm inside. A lot of it had to do to the circumstances on the plane, but Spike had never felt that way with a woman. There had been a very deep connection between them. Or was that just a one-sided thing?

Spike rolled over to stare at the wall for a while.

Of course it was one-sided. Buffy had been so embarrassed afterwards that she couldn't even meet his eyes. The way she'd hurried off the plane, without even a backward glance...There was a woman out there somewhere in the city that he desperately wanted to see again but knew that she didn't feel the same way. Was he really falling in love with the pretty, petite blonde, or was he confused by the emotional upheaval he'd experienced on the plane? What was he going to do?

'Should've asked for her number. Even if she slapped me or told me to go to hell, I would at least have given it a shot.'

The crazy idea to start calling around to some of the better hotels in the city looking for her had occurred to him. But that would be...bad. No doubt, Buffy would think he was a nut or a creep--or a nutty creep. It would be impossible to find her. He didn't even know her last name.

Buffy was destined to just be a wild, impetuous, fantastic memory. It had been so refreshing to meet a woman and really talk to her. A woman who told him when his jokes were bad. A woman who treated him like anyone else.

Spike would never forget her, and would regret the way things had to end. He regretted that it had to end at all.


TBC...

Chapter 3: Love is like Oxygen


"Hello, can you connect me to--umm, I don't know his last name--Spike's room?" Buffy waited anxiously.

The hotel employee sighed tiredly. "You want to talk to Spike, eh?"

"Yes, please. It's okay, I'm not a fan or anything--I mean--I like what I heard last night but...I know Spike. We met the other day on a plane."

"What's your name?"

"Buffy. Buffy Summers. He'll know me."

'I hope.' she thought.

"Fine, Miss Summers. I'll be sure to tell him that you called," the man said sarcastically. It was obvious to Buffy that he had no intention of giving Spike any message from her.

"Wait--You don't believe me? I swear he knows me! Just ask him."

"You're not on the list of accepted callers. That means that you don't get through, nor will any message you give me be relayed."

"But I know him! We didn't get to...exchange numbers at the airport. Please, just give him my message?"

"Listen girly, I don't have time to talk to you crazy kids all day--I have a job to do. And I'm certainly not going to bother a guest with hundreds of phone calls made by overzealous fans claiming to be old friends. Guests who stay with us expect a level of privacy and comfort. Don't call here again." He hung up.

"No! I'm not a... Shit!" Buffy slammed the phone back down. "Dammit...I did sound like a brainless waif of a girl. Now what?"

Buffy thought about it. She could still try showing up at the club tonight. If only she could have talked to him on the phone. That stupid guy wouldn't even ask Spike if he knew her. Why was that too much to ask?

Trying not to be too put-off or disappointed, Buffy got dressed and went out to do some shopping before she had to leave tomorrow morning. She'd have to get on another plane--a prospect that she dreaded more than anything. She needed to distract herself or she'd be curled up in a ball and shaking with fear until then. Shopping, then a trip to the club to see Spike and his band this evening. She hoped that she'd get a chance to speak to him.


 

Buffy wound up near the Hilton. Honestly, she hadn't thought about going there...much. But still, she was standing outside amidst the sea of people.

The crowd of people (mostly teenaged girls) was standing outside with signs and banners. Signs were held aloft, saying, 'I love you Spike!', 'Spike's #1'. There were also signs professing general love for the band and the other cute members.

Any hopes that she could maybe get inside to talk to Spike were dashed. There were police barricades and way too many people. And if she did by some miracle get inside… Would he see her as one of these fangirls? Would he think that she's only interested in him now that she knows he's a celebrity?

It was probably for the best that she couldn't see him, she'd look like a dweeb. But she so wanted to talk to him again, to let him know that she couldn't stop thinking about him. What had happened between them had been borne of desperation and fear, but it was beautiful in its raw passion and need. Buffy wanted to feel that passion again. She wanted him again.

A tall, good looking guy walked up to her. She recognized him from the report on the news as the band's manager, Angel Something-or-other.

"You here to see Spike, honey?" he asked, looking directly at her.

"Y-Yes," she said.

"It's okay," Angel said to a guard. "Let her through."

He helped Buffy around the barrier and led her into the hotel.

'Wow!' Buffy thought, amazed. 'I'm in! I never thought I'd get inside! I didn't even have to ask!'

She stepped into the elevator with Angel. He pushed the button for the 10th floor and smiled at her.

"You're a little older than the rest."

"Excuse me?"

Angel clarified, "I mean, you're not a teenager like most of the other girls out there."

"No, I'm not." Buffy held her chin up. "I'm 23."

"That's refreshing. No need to check your I.D., sweetie," he laughed.

"For the record, I just...happened to be outside. I was shopping and--"

"You don't have to explain, babe. You a big fan?"

"Well...I only just heard them play on Conan last night, but I thought they were really good," she said. "Mr. O'Connor--"

"Please, call me Angel."

"Okay, Angel...Why did you ask me to come up? What was it about me?"

"I thought you were pretty and that Spike might like you, too," he explained.

"You mean...You thought I was a groupie? You're taking me up there to have sex with the band or something?" Her face flushed red.

"Whoa, relax, honey. I thought you just might like to meet Spike. We have another gig at the Electric Pussycat Club tonight and Spike could do with some companionship of the female kind. You don't have to put out or anything - if you don't want to."

Buffy couldn't say anything. She was so embarrassed. Imagine! Angel mistaking her for some little skank whose life ambition is to screw rock stars. She had come seeking Spike, but that's because of the time they'd shared together and her feelings for him. Not just ‘cause she thought he had a killer bod, a velvety, sexy voice and dreamy baby blues, though all of that was true, too...

"I'm not a slut," she said defiantly.

"Never said you were, baby."

"My name's Buffy. Not baby, honey or sweetie."

Angel rolled his eyes. "Alright, got it, Betty."

"That's--Buffy," she growled, her eyes narrowed.

"I'm just fucking with ya. I heard you, Buffy. Loosen up a little - you're wound pretty tight."

She looked down. "Yeah...I am too tense."

"You're a teepee and a wigwam?" Angel asked with a chuckle.

Buffy blinked at him, showing that she wasn't impressed or amused.

"Wow--Okay. I'll remember not to joke around you." Angel was beginning to doubt that this girl would hit it off with Spike. She was uptight and a little strange. Usually Angel's instincts about people never failed him...

"I know Spike--I'm not a bimbo."

"Oh, you know him?" Angel asked, smiling slightly. 'Suuuuure you do,' he thought.

"Yes." Buffy squared her shoulders. "We spent a lot of time talking when--"

The elevator doors opened and Angel ushered her along to Spike's suite. Buffy's nervousness kicked up a notch. The moment of truth was coming. She would soon find out if Spike would be happy to see her or if he would be annoyed that she had found him.

"Here we are." Angel nodded to the large black man at the door. "Hey, Robin."

"Hey, Angel." Robin smiled kindly at Buffy and opened the door.

They went inside. There were four other girls sitting on a couch and they were obviously fans. All giggly and dressed in tight, revealing clothes.

"Who are they?" Buffy asked Angel.

"They're other fans that want to meet Spike. He'll choose which one of you he'd like to invite to the club as his personal guest."

Buffy gripped Angel's arm and leaned in to speak quietly to him. "I--I'm in competition with them? I thought I'd get to talk to him alone--I'm not one of...them!"

"Well, seeing as how you know him 'n all, I'm sure he'll want to speak to you privately." Angel smiled. He didn't believe her.

He pried her hand off his arm and spoke to the girls, "I'll go get Spike, then I'll round up the rest of the guys. I'm sure you'll enjoy meeting them, too. Sit tight." He went into another room.

"Oh, wow!" one of the girls said excitedly. "I am soooo fucking geeked! I can't believe I'm going to meet Spike! THE Spike!"

"Me too!" a leggy brunette said. "I'm so gonna fuck him!"

They giggled.

"Doesn't he have the most awesome body?" a blonde asked dreamily.

"Oh yeah! I wonder how big he is? It looks really big in those jeans he wears."

More giggling.

"I'll be sure to let you girls know later," a very pretty blonde said. She smiled slyly and tossed her long hair over her shoulder.

As she listened to the girls discussing what they wanted to do to Spike, she began to feel more foolish for even coming here. Here she was, a 23-year-old woman, with a bunch of mindless groupies. She started to feel ill and panicky. She didn't belong here. Spike might just laugh at her for showing up. And why would he want a neurotic mess (who was falling in love with him) like her when he could pluck one of these other girls off the vine for some no-strings fun?

Buffy still wanted to see him again, but he would just think she was one of these bubble-headed girls. Worse than that, he'd think that she had no interest in getting with him again until she found out that he was a rock star. It wasn't true, but how could he not think that?

She had to get out of here, right now, before she embarrassed herself.


 

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