Siren’s Song

Chapter 1: Calypso

Throbbing music pulsed as the tiny blonde girl took center stage. She smiled and began to writhe to the music, her sinuous movements causing many a man to hold his breath. Her white costume was a sharp contrast to the gold of her skin, and when she removed her top, her supple breasts spilled out. This quickly prompted many of the patrons to move in a little closer to the goddess on the stage. A few expert moves around the pole, and a few more moved in. Pretty soon, the majority of the club patrons were transfixed by sight of the woman dancing on the stage, feline grace and Amazon sensuality. Murmurs circled through the audience, all the men wondered the same thing, “Who is she?” The song stopped and the sprite that sent hormones into overdrive collected her money and walked off stage, breaking the spell. The next dancer came out, and the patrons filed away, either to the bar or the back room where lap dances were held.

Buffy Summers was laughing. Not outwardly, of course, but on the inside, she was almost in tears. It was so funny how gullible men were. A shake here and a twist there and BAM, putty at her feet. She took off her thong and counted the money that fell from her body, around $250, not bad for one song. She sat at the long white counter and began to apply more lotion to her body. The counter ran along one entire wall in the back of the club where she and the other girls got ready. Random mirrors were interspaced along the wall above. On top, a cosmetic counter’s worth of makeup and lotions were spread along the counter; the girls were generous with their “tools of the trade”. That generosity was something Buffy was not expecting, but greatly appreciated. She never thought that she would be in a place like this, stripping for money, but then, life is full of surprises. Shaking out of her reverie, Buffy finished with the lotion and fixed her makeup for her next set. This time, she picked out a silk royal blue bra and matching thong. She covered herself in a short dress and put on the prerequisite 6-inch heels. Sometimes, being short was a real pain in the ass.

“And now, once again….the siren Calypso!” With that Buffy stepped through the curtain and back onstage. The rhythmic beat of the song was much slower than her earlier dance. She deliberately smiled wide and began to move. Truth be told, Buffy never really knew what she was going to do beforehand, she just let the sounds of the music flow over her and moved with it. This song was familiar to her, “Nobody”, by Keith Sweat. She had used it before, liking the slow beat of the song. She gyrated against the pole and looked out across the club. Men of various ages were lined up at the bar and at the stage as well. The club, as a whole, was dimly lit, but tastefully decorated. The bar was oak and polished to a high gleam. It has brass fixtures and decorative pieces that shone as well. Between the stage and the bar sat the table and chairs for the patrons. The stage itself was T-shaped and had a pole on both ends. More chairs sat along the end of the stage, for those who wanted to see the girls up close and personal. Right now, all of these chairs were occupied, and Buffy was pleased about that. More men next to the stage meant a good change of large amounts of tips, large tips meant groceries could be bought and Joyce’s doctor visit paid for.

Buffy shook her head and again concentrated on the music and finishing her set. On her last song, one of the men in the audience decided he needed a personal dance with her. He jumped up on stage and started to weave drunkenly. He didn’t last two seconds on stage, as the bouncers promptly grabbed him and showed him the exit. Buffy just sighed and finished her last set of the night. And thank God for that, she thought as she went backstage amid a chorus of catcalls and shouts.

“Damn girl, you saving any of them for us?” A redheaded dancer named Willow asked her. Since her first day at 1st Amendment Gentleman’s Lounge, Willow had been nothing but a friend, showing Buffy the ropes along with some beauty tricks.

“Nothing to fear, Will, it’s Friday and they all have money to burn,” Buffy replied with a chuckle, pointing to her thong.

“Nice, just what I like to hear,” Willow said. “Hey, I’m done after this set, you wanna go get some grub?”

“Sounds good, I’m just gonna change into something a bit less revealing and I’ll wait for you by the bar.”

“Ok then, see ya… oh, watch and point out who was tipping in the audience,” Willow said with a grin before she disappeared through the black curtain.

With another chuckle at Willow’s behavior, Buffy headed to the back and pulled on some jeans and a long-sleeved top. She liked to cover up as much as possible when she could, considering her occupation included much nude time.

Slipping out into the club, Buffy pointed some men out to Willow then ambled over to the bar to help serve while she waited for Willow to finish.

“Hey, Buffy,” Riley said as she swung through the door leading behind the bar.

“Hey, Riley, how’s life behind the bar?” she asked, pulling a mug to fill from the tap.

“Warmer than it is on stage, that’s for sure,” he replied.

Truth be told, Riley could see himself developing quite a crush on the young Miss Summers, or Calypso, as she was known in the club.

“Warmer, sure, richer, probably not,” she retorted. Truth be told, she thought Riley might have a bit of a crush on her, and as sweet as it was, she didn’t think Riley was the guy for her.

“Good point, however, at least I keep my clothes on,” he snarked at her.

“Yeah, well I get paid lots of money to take mine off,” Buffy shot back, a little pissed off at Riley’s attitude toward her. She noticed Willow was exiting the stage, so she quickly said bye to Riley and went to catch up with Will. Riley just shook his head and watched her go.

 

 

 

Chapter 2: Triple Thick Milkshakes

 

The night air was warm and breezy as Willow and Buffy walked toward the all night restaurant that was situated across the street from the club.  Know simply as “Al’s Diner” it was a big hangout for the girls who needed a place to eat in a hurry.

 

“Sooooo...” Willow started as they walked into Al’s.

 

“What?” Buffy asked.

 

“I couldn’t help but notice that while I was onstage, you were chatting it up with a certain puppy doglike bartender,” Willow said as she pushed open the door to the diner.  Immediately, the smell of grease and ketchup assaulted them and both girls grinned.

“TRIPLE THICK MILKSHAKES!” they screeched and hurried toward the counter to place an order.  Orders placed, Buffy led the way to a small vinyl booth toward the back end of the diner.  Once seated, Willow immediately pounced again.

 

“So, you, Riley, doing the wild thing?” she asked bluntly.

 

“God, Willow! No, Riley and I aren’t doing the wild thing, or the tame thing, or anything for that matter,” Buffy replied, her face a violent red color.

 

“Ok, ok, don’t pop a vessel or anything, I just wondered if you decided to join us, hymen-free individuals of the world,” Willow teased, giving Buffy an evil smile.

 

“WILLOW! Why don’t you just make and announcement to the whole restaurant, 23-year-old virgin prime for the plucking here,” Buffy whispered.

 

Willow shrugged “Ok, if you really want me to…”

 

She stood up.

 

Buffy grabbed onto Willow and yanked her into her seat.  “Don’t you dare!”

 

Willow shrugged again. “Can’t help it Buff, you got that quality about you.”

 

“And what quality might that be?” Buffy asked

 

“The innocent, ‘need to be kicked in my ass to have fun’ quality,” Willow replied.

 

“Order 21!” came a shout from the counter.

 

“That’s us,” Buffy said, and the girls hopped up to get their food.

 

Minutes later, Willow again picked up the thread of the conversation.

 

“So,” she paused and took a large bite of her hamburger, “if you’re not gonna give Riley a go, care to tell me why not?”

 

“I dunno if I can, what with me needing to be kicked in the ass and all,” Buffy replied.

 

Willow rolled her eyes and stole some of Buffy’s fries.  “C’mon, I was just kidding…kinda,” Willow said. “Besides, you gotta admit, he is kinda cute and studly in a down home, farm boy kinda way.”

 

Buffy sighed. “There’s nothing between us, no spark, no flame, hell not even a slight elevation in pulse rate or body temp, and he just doesn’t do it for me.”

 

“Buffy, that’s the problem, nobody does it for you, EVER!” Willow answered.

 

“Trust me Willow, someone out there is just perfect for me, and I’ll find him, until that day, I’ll remain the world’s oldest living virgin and stripper.” Buffy laughed at herself.

 

“Shit Buffy, you’re no damn fun.” Willow pouted.

 

Buffy smiled. “Compared to you Willow, nobody is any damn fun.”

 

 

Chapter 3: The Gentleman’s Rogue

 

William Giles was mad.   No, not mad, his feelings went far beyond those of mere anger.  He was full-out-in-a-rage-wanting-to-kill-something-with-his-own-hands pissed.  His assistant had left in tears, and anybody that tried to breech the confines of his office was summarily and abruptly sent packing.  No one was safe.  Complete strangers in the hallway of the law firm where he worked were subjected to his tirades for their dared intrusion into “his” hallway. His office resembled a hurricane site.  Papers and glass shards littered the floor like a minefield.  Pictures were taken off the wall and destroyed.  Everything she bought to “brighten up” his office was promptly trashed.  William now sat in the middle of the chaos in a state of shock.  She dumped him.  The bloody bitch dumped him for that nancyboy poofter.  Even worse than that, she’d done it over the soddin’  phone.

           

“Stupid bloody bitch,” he muttered and then surveyed the damage of his temper.  Impressive, he thought and ran his hands through his white-blond hair.  He noticed his knuckles were bleeding and absentmindedly thought to clean them up.

           

The door to his office flew open, and William’s friend Xander strode in.  “Hey Spike good news…..good God in heaven, what the hell happened here?”

           

William just looked at Xander and muttered “Drusilla.”

           

“Oh shit, man!  What happened?  You two get into the mother of all scraps?” Xander asked.  He walked the small oval office and surveyed the destruction.  Not half bad, he thought, but decided that Spike really didn’t need to hear that right now. 

           

“She dumped me.  She fucking dumped me over the fucking phone.” William’s once dissipated anger began the rapid ascent into fury again.

           

“OUCH! Over the phone!  Damn, now that is one harsh bitch,” Xander said as he came full circle to sit in front of William again.  In all honesty, Xander never did care for the raven-haired beauty.  She was a stunning contrast to Spike though, Xander thought as he looked at a picture that had been ripped from the frame.  Dru, with her dark hair and maniacal eyes and Spike, bleach blond with eyes the color of the sky during a summer storm.  Yes, as a couple they were a striking pair.  But even though she was gorgeous, Dru was cold and untouchable as well. She reminded Xander of a sculpture or a piece of art in a museum; you admired it from afar, you commented on its beauty, but you never really got the chance to touch it.  Plus the girl was certifiable, seriously possessive and horribly jealous.  Because of this, Xander did not see much of Spike during the relationship.  Spike needed to protect her and cherish her and Dru was selfish enough to let him, then leave him hanging. Xander hated that such a woman got her claws into his best friend, but Spike would hear nothing against Dru.  That issue became a bone of contention between the two friends, and Xander eventually stopped saying anything at all.  Now, Xander could seriously see himself rejoicing at this latest development, but again, he doubted Spike would appreciate the gesture just yet.

           

“No, wait it gets even better,” William said. “She dumped me for that poofter Liam.” 

           

“She picked that bastard over you?  Wow, that sucks.  Now is a good time for you to say to yourself, ‘ding-dong the bitch is dead’ and then get piss-ass drunk,” Xander replied.  He knew that it sounded cold, but he didn’t have any clue how to help Spike.  His own family was the definition of dysfunctional and it was the friendship he had with Spike that had saved him.  Seeing his almost brother like this threw Xander for a loop.

 

“That sounds bloody fantastic and everything mate, but I think I am just gonna get my cases and pack it in for the day,” William replied.  “I’ll clean this up tomorrow.”

           

“Oh no, no, no my dear friend, that is where you’re wrong.” Xander said.  “It just so happens that I am your best friend, and as such, it is my duty to get you drunk beyond reason while we commiserate about the selfishness that is the female gender.  After such commiseration, I call you a cab and you go home and sleep it off. Only after observing this sacred male ritual will you be able to start the healing process.  And, if you end up with a woman tonight, consider yourself on step two.”

           

“And since when is that a sacred male ritual?” William asked dryly.  Xander continued to ramble and William felt his humor return.  William had known Xander for his entire life, and whenever he was in a funk, it was usually Xander who brought him out.  He even christened William “Spike” after they had snuck into a biker bar during their senior year of high school and decided they needed “tough” sounding names to fit in with the crowd.  Now, Xander always referred to William as Spike.  It caught on and most people called him that.  Except for at the office, where his dad insisted that such a name was “unbefitting of his position and upbringing”.  Thinking about his father made William grimace, and he tuned back into what Xander was saying.

           

“…this really hot girl named Calypso, and last time I went, Robert hopped up on stage and tried to dance with her!” Xander burst out laughing, and William chuckled as well.

           

“See, you’re laughing, a good indication of the willingness to begin the healing process.  Once the drinking commences, full healing is almost guaranteed,” Xander said. “Now, let’s go so I can get a good seat.”

           

They walked to the parking lot and got into Xander’s Black BMW.  The club, Xander explained, was meant to be for “gentlemen” and therefore, outside the city limits where common people presided.

 

“That sounds like my dad talking,” William said, bringing the conversation to a halt.  An oppressive silence hung in the air as William thought of his father.  Edward Giles was a snobby Englishman who was a firm believer in separation of the “common” and “elite” classes.  He’d tried to instill the same principles in William, but to no avail.  In fact, the only time Edward ever acknowledged William while he was growing up was to berate him for his “common” behavior.  Such behavior was worse than all of the seven deadly sins combined. 

                       

Xander couldn’t take the silence.  Traffic was barely crawling forward and not talking was unnerving him.  He wanted to help Spike somehow, but he still wasn’t sure how.  “Spike, you remember when we snuck into that biker bar?”

           

William smiled. “Yeah, mate, we were still in high school, thinking we were the original badasses and could take on anything.”

           

Xander laughed.  “Yeah and I decided that William was a wussy name, so I told you that you were now Spike.”

 

William laughed.  “I couldn’t think of anything, so I called you X and hoped that it sounded tough enough.”

           

“Yup, and then we drank whiskey until three in the morning and then spent a good portion of that day praying to the porcelain god,” Xander said and laughed as well. 

           

“Not such badasses after all, I guess,” William replied. 

           

“Good times, well, kinda good times,” Xander said.

 

Another memory was brought forth and then another.  William and Xander laughed as they reminisced about their misspent youth.  Both were children of the “upper class” as referred to by their parents. The Harris and Giles families were very close, so the boys grew up together and William thought of Xander as his brother.  They were basically raised by William’s nanny, a hardass woman who instilled in them manners and respect.  With such parents as theirs, it seemed almost mandatory that they rebel as often as possible.  William bleached his hair white and Xander pierced anything and everything.  They wore nothing but black and were kicked out of school on a regular basis.  Their parents, knowing little about children and even less about teenage boys, chalked it up to a “phase” and decided it would pass. Besides, such consideration of their children cut into precious “social time”.  Both boys snuck out of the house on a regular basis.  For William, it was to escape the loneliness.  For Xander, it was to avoid his father’s flying fists after a night of drinking.  Sneaking out of the house soon led to late nights at bars as well as late night rendezvous with whatever girl was the “flavor of the week”.  William was 15 when he lost his virginity, Xander, 16.  In school, they were the bad boys; girls wanted them and boys feared as well as envied them.  All the while, William secretly kept journals which he filled with the thousands of stories and ideas that ran rampant through his mind.  No on knew about them except for Xander.  They were a decidedly “unbadass” thing, so William made sure no one in the world knew of their existence.  Actually, even Xander didn’t know about them until mistaking one for class notes.  William founding him halfway through the notebook and was ready to kick some ass until Xander told him that he never knew that he had such talent.  William swore him to secrecy and Xander complied, never telling a soul about the huge talent cloaked under the black leather duster.  In return, William never told a soul about the true cause of Xander’s black eyes. 

 

Graduation came and by some miracle of God, both boys graduated with their class.  After graduation, it seemed that a light was finally turned on inside the brains of Williams’ parents and they remembered their son.  He wanted to go to college and write, perhaps be a journalism major.  The night he announced that, a row like no other erupted in the Giles household.  He was a Giles and Giles’s were lawyers, end of story.  No amount of cajoling or pleading changed his father’s mind, and William finally bent under the pressure.  The badass of Ravendale High was brought down by his father.  He protested, citing his grades as inadequate.  William soon found that money erased his high school misdeeds as well as not-so-astounding grades.  Now, at 25, he was a lawyer in his father’s firm and almost a guarantee for partner someday.  His dad couldn’t be happier, William seriously considered shooting himself.

           

Xander’s parents were a different story.  Their indifference to their son continued after high school, and it seemed that Xander was destined to follow in his father’s footsteps.  At William’s urging, however, he applied for college and, surprisingly enough, was accepted.  A business major, Xander now owned his own restaurant and enjoyed his life immensely.  He knew how much William hated his job and what his life had become and he urged him to break away from his father and write, but nothing he said could change William’s mind.  To William, a lawyer was a good, respectable and secure job, something to be envied, not disliked. 

 

They arrived at the club, and the conversation ceased as the men climbed from the car and entered into The 1st Amendment Gentleman’s Lounge. 

 

 

 

Chapter 4: Everyday battles

 

Buffy was pissed.  No two ways about it, she was flaming pissed.  Her mom had gotten sick at work and when she asked to leave, her boss “advised” her of the fact that if she missed anymore work, she was going to be fired.  So there it was, work while vomiting, or leave and be fired.  Joyce chose to stay at work and continued to empty her stomach contents throughout the course of the day.  Buffy and her brother A.J were playing their customary Friday afternoon video game when Joyce walked into the apartment and collapsed.  Buffy called 911 and the paramedics came and took her mom to the hospital.  A.J went to the next-door neighbors for the night, and after filling out paperwork for her mom, Buffy left to have a showdown at the gallery.

 

Dan Calder, her mom’s employer resembled a large rat.  Receding hairline, beady little eyes and a jaw that protruded from a weak chin, all that was missing were whiskers.  Buffy expected him to start squeaking any minute.  Snickering at the thought, she turned her attention to Dan. “Mr. Calder, can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked. 

 

Dan eyed the diminutive girl in before him.  She looked vaguely familiar, but the information about her floated past the scope of his brain and settled into oblivion. She’s probably just another flake that thinks a gallery job will give her a facade of sophistication, he mentally sighed.  Outwardly, he plastered a smile on his face and answered Buffy with a cheerful “What can I do for you?”

 

“First of all, you can wipe that smug, shit-eating grin off your face you little rat turd,” Buffy replied calmly, then continued while Dan choked, “second of all, you can sit you inordinately large ass down in that chair and listen to me without interruption.”

Dan sputtered at her tirade and tried to speak, but Buffy cut him off, “My mother is Joyce Summers, sound familiar?  Well it should, she is the best damn manager you have for this piece of shit gallery.  Today, she came home today so exhausted that she collapsed in our living room. In front of me as well as my little brother. Something here seems a bit off, can you maybe tell me what that is?” Buffy asked, and then cut Dan off again when he tried to answer.  “It seems to me that working at a gallery is not so hard as to drive a grown woman to exhaustion, so my little brain tells me there is something else going on here.  Wonder what that could be?”

 

“Well….” Dan started then stopped as the little blonde girl stepped toward him.  “I really don’t have the faintest idea what that could be.”

 

“Really?  Are you sure?  Think reaaaaaal hard before you answer,” Buffy said.

 

“Yes, I’m sure,” Dan replied, gaining a bit of his confidence back. How dare she speak to him this way!

 

“Well then, guess I’m going to have to call the workers’ union that mom is a member of,” Buffy said and Dan’s blood left his head at an alarmingly fast rate.  “Maybe I’ll tell them that my mom didn’t feel well and, like a good employee, requested time off for her illness.  Only her poor excuse of an asshole boss didn’t give her the requested time, even threatened to fire her if she left.  What do you think the union will say to that?  My guess, your ass is gonna get used and abused and then fired for a number of things, including being an all-around dickhead, do you really want that?”

 

Dan shook his head.

 

“Exactly what I thought,” Buffy said, then continued, “So what you’re gonna do is give my mom time off while she is in the hospital.  Then, when she comes back to work, you are going to be the nicest, most considerate boss in the entire freaking world.  You will kiss the ground she walks on.  You will admit you unworthiness to even be in her presence.  And you will do all this with a smile.  Got me?  ‘Cause if not, I will call her union rep as well as several of the local newspapers.  You will be wading through shit for weeks and then when you think you’re in the clear…BAM! I’m gonna call the gallery’s biggest benefactors and tell them exactly what kind of person you are. Not only will you get fired, you’ll be blacklisted from here to Washington!” 

 

Ordinarily, Buffy wouldn’t do such a thing, and the thought of blackmail made her stomach do the “I’m gonna be sick” flip-flops.  However, she was at the end of her rope.  She wasn’t making enough to pay for the medical bills as well as the routine household bills.  Her mother had been diagnosed with cancer a year ago and had chemo’ed it into remission.  That was a joyous occasion, but it was still gonna take years to pay for the hospital bills, even with insurance and the combined effort of the two jobs.  Truth be told, her mom wasn’t paid shit at her job.  Buffy made more in one night than her mom did in a week.  True, her mom wasn’t the biggest fan of her job, but money is money, and the bills needed to be paid.  They already had to sell their house; Buffy really didn’t want to be evicted from their apartment as well. 

 

“So, Mr. Calder, are we in agreement?” Buffy asked.  Dan gave another head nod and Buffy promptly strode out of the gallery feeling somewhat better.

 

“Ok, now all I have to do is come up with a couple hundred thousand dollars and we’ll be in the clear,” she muttered to herself.  With that depressing thought in her mind, she hailed a taxi and checked her watch.  It was 8 pm, she had enough time to swing by the hospital and check on her mom before she had to work. 

 

“Take me to Caring Hearts Hospital,” she said to the driver.  He nodded his head and Buffy sat back and waited.  The drive seemed to take forever and Buffy felt a sense of urgency wash over her.  When the cab finally reached the hospital, Buffy threw some money at the driver and bailed out the back of the cab.  She rushed up the stairs and ran inside.

 

“Can you tell me what room Joyce Summers is in?” Buffy breathlessly asked the sour-looking receptionist.

 

“Are you family? Only family is allowed to visit, and even then, visiting hours end in 15 minutes, so it doesn’t matter anyway,” the receptionist replied nastily, and then turned her attention back to the newspaper.

 

Buffy felt like screaming, this was just not her day.  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am family and I would like to see my mom…now,” Buffy said, snatching the paper from the receptionist and flinging it across the room.  REALLY gotta work on that temper Buff, she chided herself.

 

The receptionist drew in air through her nose with an audible wheeze and then said, “Room 305, miss.”

 

“Thank you,” Buffy replied in a sweet voice then turned and bounded toward the elevator. 

 

She found her mom’s room with relative ease.  She walked inside and when she was greeted by the beeps and sighs of the elaborate hospital machines, her sense of urgency dissolved.  Buffy just stared at the bed; her mom looked so frail lying against the stark white bed sheet.  It brought back ugly memories of the war Joyce waged against cancer.  Buffy was so deep in thought she didn’t hear the orderly. 

 

“She’ll be out for the rest of the night,” Buffy jumped into the air about three feet and spun around toward the door.  “Sorry,” the female orderly apologized, “didn’t mean ta scare ya, just thought I should tell you that she’s out like a light, probably your best bet is to come back tomorrow.”

 

“Thanks,” Buffy replied.  She moved to her mom and kissed her soft forehead.  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she whispered and then left.

 

Once outside, she had to call yet another cab to take her home.  Once there, Buffy gathered her clothes and makeup and other necessary items and drove to the club.  It was going to be a long night. I hope that there are some good tippers in the audience.

 

The Lounge was hopping when Buffy arrived.  Men milled around the parking lot and wandered inside and then back out again.  Buffy strode toward the back entrance and tried to avoid any encounters with the ‘patrons’ as her boss Jack liked to call them.

 

“Hey Robbie!” she called out a greeting to the large bouncer who guarded the door leading to the girls rooms.

 

“Hey Buffy, what’s a cracking?” Robbie asked as he opened the door.

 

“Not a whole lot, how’s the action tonight?” Buffy asked back, stopping at the entrance.

 

“Had to call in Joey and Bill from days off, what do ya think?” Robbie said with a grin.  His front two teeth were silver and he had no neck to speak of, but Robbie was one of the sweetest men Buffy knew.

 

“How’s your wife and pretty baby?” Buffy asked.

 

“Both of them gorgeous to end all, I got pics, I’ll corner you later and shove them in your face,” Robbie replied, pleased.  Buffy always asked him about his family, and was always willing to look at the multitudes of pictures he constantly had

 

Buffy laughed. “I’m shaking with anticipation,” she said then walked inside.

 

The perfume hit her first every time.  A million different types of perfume wafted around the back room, giving it a distinctive smell, like a cross between a Macy’s counter and a harem. 

 

Molly, a leggy brunette, giggled as she came offstage. “Buffy, I think I just saw my future husband!”

 

Buffy rolled her eyes, Molly always just saw her future husband.  “Really Molly, who is he tonight?”

 

“This hottie blonde, I mean waaay blonde, white-blonde,” Molly said, “He’s got the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen, and I mean they are blue, but such a deep shade, they’re like almost black…” Molly trailed off as she mentally thought of the Romeo who captured her heart.

 

Buffy was slightly impressed.  Molly was notoriously fickle; this was the first time Buffy heard her rave about a guy’s eye color.  Usually, Molly liked to rave about the other attributes of her men. 

 

“Wow Molly, sounds like a keeper,” Buffy said and stripped down to her underwear.  She applied lotion to her legs and Molly grabbed the bottle and squirted some on Buffy’s back.  She began to rub it in and Buffy forced herself to not tense up.  One thing was for sure, these girls were neither modest nor shy.  It had taken Buffy quite some time to undress in front of the other girls; she had yet to adjust to their “assistance” when she got ready for a set.  Not that I don’t appreciate it Buffy thought, and then forced herself to listen to Molly.

 

“…and he’s with another guy who has brown hair, he’s pretty hot too, got pretty green eyes.  I might give him a go if the blonde doesn’t work out,” Molly said rather matter-of-factly then tapped Buffy’s shoulder to let her know the lotion was rubbed in.

 

“Thanks Molly and….good luck, you know, with the guys and everything,” Buffy said.

 

“Thanks!” Molly smiled brightly and walked off, oblivious of her nudity.

 

Buffy shook her head and gave a wry smile.  “Wish I could to that.”

 

“Do what?  Molly?  I didn’t think you swung that way, Buff,” an Asian dancer named Nicole said.

 

“I don’t, that’s not what I meant,” Buffy said, “I just wish I had her confidence,” she explained.

 

“You dance naked for men and money and you are worried about confidence?” asked another dancer named Monique.

 

“It’s not the same,” Buffy tried to explain, “onstage, I can be anything, sexy, mysterious, sensual, and exciting. Offstage, I am just me….boring old Buffy Summers.”

 

“You’re not boring Buffy,” Nicole said, “And you’re drop-dead too, so quit stressing.”  That was Nicole, abrupt and to the point.

 

“I agree,” Monique said and smiled, her white teeth flashing against her dark skin.

 

“Glad to know everyone thinks so but me,” Buffy said and pulled on her costume.  Costumes were such a waste of time, in her opinion.  All you did was take them off.  That made her think of Willow and one of their first conversations.  Buffy had been bitching about the costumes and Willow had replied in true Willow fashion “It’s not the costume, but how you take it off that matters.”  Hard to believe that was almost six months ago. 

 

Buffy chose the gypsy costume and began to clip the various gold pieces to her body.  Earrings, bracelets, anklets, rings and toe rings.  Then she tied a purple scarf around her hair and a teal sarong around her waist.  She had a gold thong and matching bra on underneath.  After putting on her costume, Buffy sat on a stool and looked in the full-length mirror.  Her reflection was the same thing she always saw, long blonde hair, greenish eyes, slightly crooked nose where A.J had landed a lucky hit during a softball game when they were kids.  She stood up and examined her body.  Not bad, I guess.  Tanned skin, smooth legs, flat stomach and full breasts.  Shorter than average, but what can ya do?  Her stomach ring winked in the light, her one act of defiance.  Not earth-shattering, but not hideous either, she decided and then walked toward the stage.  True to her gypsy costume, she wore no shoes

 

She saw the lights dim before her music played.  Willow whispered good luck from somewhere in back and Buffy smiled in appreciation, she had butterflies in her stomach.  She was nervous!  Why was she so nervous? Buffy pondered that for a moment, and couldn’t come up with a good reason why.  Then the lights came up and her name was announced.  The first strains of “Feeling Love” by Paula Cole played and she strutted onto the stage.

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Chapter 5: Temptation wrapped in gold

 

Spike glanced around the club and couldn’t help but admire it.  No smoky air or stink of alcohol, a break from the stereotypical norm.  Guy behind the bar was a little dopey, kinda reminded Spike of a wannabe superhero.  He briefly wondered if the bartender wore a superman suit under his ridiculous looking clothing.  Wanker, Spike decided and gave him no more thought.  His gaze moved to the stage, a pretty brunette dancing now, and was it just him or did she keep deliberately glancing in his direction?  Xander noticed it too.

 

“Dude, she wants you,” he said with a cheeky grin.  Good, Spike needs a distraction.

 

“Bloody hell Xander give me a break!  I just got my heart shredded by Dru…or do you not recall the state of my office?” Spike replied.

 

“Drusilla is a waste of perfectly good air space and insane to boot…don’t mourn rejoice!” Xander declared, raising his glass and shaking the ice.

 

Spike felt his temper rise, but tramped down on it. Dru was, by choice, no longer a part of his life and he had to accept it, or go insane.  In a silent gesture to banish Dru from his mind and life, Spike raised his glass and clinked it against Xander’s.  “Sod the whole bleedin’ gender,” he declared and gulped down the bourbon.

 

The lights in the club dimmed and a rich baritone voice came over the speaker.  “Gentlemen, prepare yourselves to be swept away.  She is a siren, beautiful and deadly.  She lures men to their death and they eagerly go with a smile.  May I present to you, gentlemen, Calypso!”  Cheers erupted and Spike smirked, all this for one girl?

 

He was about to say something of the sort to Xander, but a movement onstage caught his attention.  He caught sight of the woman dancing and all forms of coherent thought fled from his head.  His jaw dropped, and breathing became a problem.  Not a mere siren he thought dizzily, but a Goddess. She had smooth skin, elegant curves and a luscious mouth that begged to be kissed.  Blonde hair, gold jewelry and MOTHER OF GOD, he thought as Buffy undid her top, gold skin, a large amount of beautifully bronzed skin.  Disjointed thoughts bounced around his mind; bet her hair feels like silk, run my hands through her hair, feel it fall through my fingers, nip those pouty lips and caress her velvety skin.  Lose myself in a golden tangle.  A sudden vision of her flashed through his mind; her body under his, her mouth open in ecstasy and eyes a sightless jade green as she screamed in pleasure.  So caught up in his fantasy, Spike didn’t notice that the goddess was looking at him until Xander elbowed him. 

 

“Wha?” Spike said, dazed.

 

“She’s looking at you,” Xander whispered and motioned toward the stage.

 

Spike raised his eyes and their gazes locked.  He was lost in her eyes, not quite green, not quite hazel, but as voracious as his.  Seeing her want for him instantly made certain parts of his body spring to attention. Whoa! Where did that come from?  Ok mate, remember Dru?  Bints’r nothing but a pain in the arse, all of them.  The thoughts were there, but his body paid little attention to his mind.  His body wanted to find a hard surface to pin her against and assuage this fire that was fast consuming him.  This woman was a sensual advertisement for sex and carnal pleasures, temptation wrapped in gold. 

 

She broke away from his eyes and walked to the other end of the stage.  Spike shook himself and broke out of the spell she had him under.  “’M gonna go outside for a minute, ok Xan?” he said and bounded out of the chair toward the door, leaving Xander snickering at his behavior. Looks like the Drusilla mourning period has officially ended Xander thought and raised his glass in a silent toast to the woman onstage. 

 

Spike made it outside and gulped in air.  Calm down mate, you’re acting like a caveman and you don’t even know her name!  On a sigh he pulled out a fag and lit it.  Inhaling the nicotine made him feel marginally better.

 

“Nice night isn’t it?” a voice came out of the darkness behind him.  Spike turned and saw the nancyboy bartender. 

 

“Yeah, it’s a splendiferous night alright,” Spike replied and took another deep drag.

 

“Haven’t seen you around here before,” the man continued.

 

“Prob’ly cause I haven’t been ‘round here ‘fore,” Spike answered, deliberately slurring his words and thickening his accent.  The bartender was annoying him and Spike wanted him to go the hell away. 

 

“Ahh didn’t think so.  Anyway, word of free advice, Calypso is off-limits to the clientele.” 

 

Spike raised his eyebrow, “That so mate?  Didn’t look like she was off-limits to me, in fact, I’d hazard a guess and say she’s only off-limits to wankers like you.  Bet that chafes your ass, doesn’t it?”  Spike asked and flicked some ash at Riley, then walked further into the parking lot. 

 

Riley watched him go.  He still had a sinking feeling in his stomach from the way the blonde man looked at Buffy.  He didn’t like it, didn’t like it one bit.  Riley turned and went back inside to the bar.

 

Spike wandered around the parking lot, cursing the poofy bartender.  Stupid wanker.  Needs a good kick in the head.  Off limits, HA!  I’ll show him off limits!  He was midway through his rant when he felt a soft body crash into his back.

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Chapter 6: Ready, Willing and Able

 

Buffy walked onstage with a smile.  The song beat pulsated through her blood, and she began to dance.  It was slower in tempo than most of the songs used by the girls and made Buffy think of lithe movements and leisurely caresses.  She walked to the pole at one end of the stage and wrapped a leg around it.  She rolled her hips and ran her free hand down her body and back up, bringing it to her mouth.  Dipping her index finger into her mouth, she wet it with her tongue then trailed it down to the valley between her breasts.  She looked up as a slight flick of her hand sent her top fluttering to the floor.  Some of the men let out yells and catcalls and money was flung onto the stage.  Buffy was oblivious to all that.  It was a good thing she had such a grip on the pole, or she might’ve fallen to the ground.  Her focus was riveted on the blonde man who sat a few table back from the stage.  Oh my God!

 

The man was dressed in black slacks and a white shirt.  He had bleached blonde hair.  It might’ve been curly, but now was it smoothed back and curled at the nape of his neck.  His face was that of a mischievous angel.  Smooth pale skin with dark eyebrows, one scarred, one smooth, and cheekbones that were so well defined it made her jealous.  His full lips were pressed into a line, just begging to be teased into a smile.  Buffy noticed all this, but it was his eyes that ensnared her attention.  They were the deepest shade of blue she had ever seen, like cobalt sapphires.  And they were hungry.  His gaze was locked on her body, and the man appeared ready to vault onto the stage and do things to her that would break all codes of public decency.  And Buffy was ready, willing and able.  His ravenous gaze was sending tingles over her body.  Electricity hummed under her skin, emanating from the area between her legs.  Good God is it hot in here or is it just me

 

Then, he slowly looked up and Buffy forgot everything, including the heat.  She saw the lust in his eyes and responded to it.  Buffy wanted to walk off the stage, drag him home and have her wicked way with him.  Feel his hands on me, tug on his curls and rip off that shirt.  Lick that neck and kiss those lips.  Bet his hands would feel so good, do things to me and make me scream.  She suddenly had the vision of him beneath her, touching her, caressing her, filling her while she rode them both into a higher plane of rapture.  She suddenly snapped to attention and realized that she had almost completely stopped moving.  Tearing her eyes away from the delicious stranger, Buffy moved to the other end of the stage and continued to dance.  She noticed the man get up and go outside.  Moments later, she saw Riley leave the bar and follow him.  Oh shit!  That’s probably not a good thing. 

 

Buffy finished her set and quickly walked off of the stage.  All the girls in the back room were waiting for her and the pounced as soon as she came through the curtain.

 

“Did you see him?  Isn’t he hot?”  These and other questions of similar ilk were thrown at her all at once.  Buffy walked to the counter at the back of the room and sat on a stool.  She suddenly felt claustrophobic and desperately wanted to get away. 

 

“Yes I saw him, and yes he is hot and yes I would do him in an instant, happy now?” she asked and then started to put on her clothes.  The girls just laughed and then filtered away, talking amongst themselves.  Willow sat down next to Buffy.

 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but don’t you have two more sets tonight?” she asked and Buffy bent to tie her shoes.

 

“You know I do Willow but you hafta do me a favor and cover for me, I gotta get outta here,” Buffy said and stuffed some clothing into her bag.  She had never had a reaction like that to a man and it was unnerving.  She had seriously contemplated jumping his bones in the middle of the club, consequences be dammed.  This was totally out of character for her; she was acting more like wild Willow than sane Buffy.  She needed time to think and sort this out.  Plus, there was the slight possibility that Riley was getting his ass kicked at this very moment.  Not that he needs to be interfering in the first place anyway!

 

Willow heaved a sigh, “I suppose I could, if you let me wear you red shirt next time I drag you out somewhere.”

 

Buffy thought about it for a minute.  Lend Willow any piece of clothing and you ran the risk of never seeing it again.  “Deal,” she said and pulled the top from her bag.

 

Willow smiled in victory then frowned, “Wanna tell me why you’re running away after only one set?”

 

“Not right now, Will, call me tomorrow and I will,” Buffy replied.  She smiled at Willow, and then left.

 

She quickly walked to the door and said bye to Robbie.  He seemed confused by her leaving so soon, but he just nodded and let her pass.  “Show you those pictures next time.”

 

Buffy half-smiled and nodded.  She couldn’t get the image of the blonde man out of her head and it was driving her to distraction.  Not to mention keeping her arousal and hormone levels nice and high.  Need a cold shower she thought and turned toward the parking lot.

 

Buffy was almost to her car and still thinking about the man when she ran right into a hard body.  She stumbled back and dropped her bag, makeup flew everywhere.  “Oh!  Sorry, I’m such a klutz,” she apologized as she searched for the evasive compacts.

 

“Not a problem luv,” she heard a voice practically purr. 

 

OH MY GOD!  Buffy thought, then she slowly brought her eyes to the face of person she smacked.  Blue eyes twinkled into hers, very familiar blue eyes.  It was HIM!  They guy from the club, the one she had to stop herself from attacking.  OH MY GOD!!!

 

“Well well well, Calypso, isn’t it?” he asked with a smirk. 

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Chapter 7: Now or Never

 

Buffy’s mouth opened, then shut, then opened again and shut again.  Her mind seemed to have deserted her.  Wow, he’s even hotter in person.

 

“You o.k. luv?” Spike asked her. 

 

Ooooh...accent!  Hot man with an accent!  Her inner voice squealed with delight.  Wait a minute, why is his mouth moving?  Is he talking to me?  He is!!  Ooh…oooh…oooohh he’s talking to me!  What do I say?  C’mon Buff say something…anything, just stop gulping and looking like an idiot. 

 

“Uhhhhh…..I mean, um….hiya,” Buffy said and mentally smacked herself.  Hiya?  What was that?  Stupid!!

 

Spike laughed, “Hi, ’m Spike.”  He was amazed that he sounded so calm, his entire body was in the early stages of pure chaos.    

 

“Hi Spike, nice to meet you,” Buffy replied, manners automatically kicking in.  Nice to meet you?  God, how dense can I sound?

 

“And your name is?  I mean I assume Calypso isn’t your real name?” Spike said.  She seemed a little nervous.  He he he, yeah, I made her nervous.  Big bad is in business.

 

“Of course not, I mean who would have a name like that?  Not that it’s a bad name or anything, I mean if you were a real free-thinking individual you might like that name but well…what?  Oh, my name.  My name?” Buffy was babbling and she couldn’t seem to stop herself.  Stop imagining him naked!  Stop right now.  You are not going to pin him to the ground. Even though it would be fun.   He he he, yeah really really fun.  Oh shit, he’s saying something again.  Pay attention!

 

“Yeah kitten, your name, something given to a child at birth to distinguish them from the millions of other people throughout the world,” Spike said with a laugh.

 

Hey! He’s laughing at me!  Jerk, I don’t think so. “Yeah, I got a name, what’s to say you need to know it?” Buffy asked. 

 

Spike scarred eyebrow shot up.  Bint’s got some spunk after all.  “Not a damn thing ducks, just usually like to know the names of women that I’ve seen intimately,” Spike replied, remembering how she looked onstage.  He gulped and shifted, his pants suddenly became extremely tight. 

 

Buffy swore that his voice caressed her skin and she almost closed her eyes at the sensation.  Then, she thought about that for a minute and raised an eyebrow.  You wanna play that way?  Ok fine, let’s play.  She stepped closer to Spike and reached up to tuck an errant curl behind his ear, her fingers brushing the outside shell of his ear ever so lightly.  “Is that so?  I don’t think I’ve shown you all of my intimate parts just yet, have I?” Oh God, where did that come from?  Since when do I flirt with men and touch and stuff?  Buffy couldn’t believe her own audaciousness.  Heeey, this is fun!  No wonder Willow likes it so much.

 

Spike shivered at her touch and almost moaned at her words.   Bloody fucking hell, one touch from her and my blood pressure goes through the roof.  He tried to speak and his voice cracked.  He gave a wry grin and cleared his throat then tried again, “I have no doubt of that luv,” As he spoke, Spike leaned in closer and closer until their faces almost touched.  Their breath mingled and their eyes locked.  Slowly, Spike brought his hand up and cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip.  “ Luv, tell me your name,” he said softly.

 

Buffy pulled in a breath and felt liquid heat course through her body and tug at her core at his softly spoken plea.  She felt like she was trying to move in honey, everything was slow and blurry.  She gently ran her tongue over her lip and watched in fascination as Spike’s eyes darkened to black.  He sucked in a breath, and she could have sworn, let out a little moan.  “If I tell you, what will you give me?” she asked in a whisper.  WHOA BUFF!  What the hell was that?  My God, he probably thinks I’m some sort of slut.  These thoughts raced through Buffy’s mind, but she was powerless to do anything.  She was caught in a spell woven by his eyes and cast by his voice.  Nothing else existed. 

 

Did she just say what I think she did?  “Anything you want,” he replied.

 

“Anything at all?” Buffy asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

Oh luv, if you only knew.  “Anything,” Spike whispered.  Lay you down and stroke your skin, run my hands over your body, cup your breasts, kiss your thighs, make you moan, make you sigh, hear you scream my name.  It became too much for Spike to handle.  His pants were cutting painfully into his iron hard erection.  This beautiful, mysterious woman was making innuendos and his body was desperate to cash in on them.  He groaned at his thoughts and, quick as lightening, Spike reached out and hauled Buffy to him.  Now or never mate. 

 

His lips crashed down and devoured.  His tongue brushed her lips, seeking her mouth.  She responded with her own tongue and Spike went wild. He pulled her closer until her soft body conformed to his hard lines.  Her breasts smashed into his chest and his crotch pressed snug against hers.   With a quick turn, Buffy was pinned against the side of a car and Spike nestled himself between her thighs.  He broke away and pressed hot, openmouthed kisses down the column of her neck.  Her pulse was wild under his lips.  He moved his hands over her stomach and up around to her back.  Lightly caressing the flesh he found there, Spike captured Buffy’s lips again.  Cor, she tastes like peaches and cream.

 

At the first touch of Spike’s lips, Buffy lost any semblance of timidity.  The liquid sensation between her legs erupted and intensified until Buffy felt a distinct throbbing.  She wanted him so very badly.  When she felt his tongue, Buffy eagerly granted him access to her mouth.  She took the opportunity to explore his, tasting cigarettes and beer.  Mmmmm, Spike –taste.  The hard planes of his taut body pressed against hers and she felt his arousal against her intimately.  Hers tripled and when he turned her against the car, Buffy moved so that he was cradled by her thighs.  Never in her life had she experienced such immense need or white-hot lust.  He trailed kisses down her neck and Buffy used the opportunity to thread her fingers in his white hair.  So soft, how does he keep it so soft? 

 

Spike was on fire for this intoxicating woman.  She bubbled through his veins like a fine wine, heady and intoxicating.  With a great effort, he pulled back and broke the kiss.  The two of them stood still for awhile; chests heaving with much needed breathe.  Buffy couldn’t believe her own behavior.  Never in her life had she done something so impulsive.  My God  Buffy, what the hell were you doing?.  She brought her eyes to meet his again, noticing that he still was touching her back, fingertips making whisper light circles on her skin.  It felt extremely good, so she let him continue.  Unbeknownst to Buffy, she was playing with Spike’s hair at the nape of his neck.  

 

She may not have noticed, but Spike sure as hell did.  It was an achingly familiar thing that Dru used to do.  Dru!  Shit, what the hell am I doing with this chit?  It was like a bucket of cold water was dumped on his head.  He abruptly let go of Buffy and took a couple of steps back.  He looked at her, swollen lips and flushed cheeks.  Her eyes were slightly confused, a dark jade green and still fuzzy from the kiss.  Part of him was arrogantly proud, HE made here look that way.   His rational brain kicked in and he was slightly appalled at his own behavior.  Jesus Christ, I’d ‘ave taken her in the soddin’ dirt right here in the bleedin’ parking lot.  He let out a disgusted sigh and looked at Buffy again.  Now she had regained some of her senses, Spike expected her to kick him in the head and run, virtue fluttering.  Not that I don’t deserve that, shit, what was I thinking?  That was just it though, he wasn’t thinking.  Something about her made all sane forms of thought flee his mind and his primitive side clawed forward with a vengeance. 

 

Buffy knew something was wrong.  Oh God, what did I do?  Was I that bad?  Oh man, gotta leave, gotta escape now!  She looked around wildly and spotted her car.  Grabbing her bag that had fallen in the midst of everything, she fished out her keys.  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice husky with passion and the oncoming tears, “I’m sooo sorry.”  She turned away from Spike and ran toward her car. 

 

Spike was dumbfounded.  Did she just apologize for giving me the most earthshaking kiss in my entire life?  Bloody hell, I think she did.  Wait a minute, where the hell is she going?  He ran after her and caught her right before she got her car door open. 

 

“Please pet, I’m beggin’ you, tell me you name.”  He didn’t mean to sound so desperate, but he was, dammit! 

 

“Buffy,” she said, “my name is Buffy.”  Then she got in her car and backed out of the parking lot. 

 

“Buffy,” Spike whispered, “I’ll be seeing you again, count on it.”  He walked back toward the club.    

 

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