Making Love and Music
Summary: Spike POV. Buffy was a struggling actress. Spike was trying to make it in the music biz. Both wanted their relationship to go somewhere, but neither seemed to have the time to put in the effort. Songfic.
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy and Spike, yaddah yaddah yaddah. I don't own the song Making Love and Music, either. Man, I suck.
Chapter One
[b]Dear Baby,
I don't really know how to start this. My name is William Windsor. My friends call me Spike. I'm your daddy.
Your mummy and I have been together for two years and one month now. You're growing so fast. Mummy says you're trying to make her fat. She told me she was pregnant only last month and you're due to arrive in just five more months. Your mother and I are so excited. We can't wait for you to get here.
I guess I should tell you about me. Well, at the moment, I'm twenty-six years old. I live in Los Angeles with you mom, Buffy, who's twenty-four. She's an actress and she's really famous. I'm in a band with three of my best mates: Angel, Wesley and Gunn.
I married Mummy six months ago, and it was the happiest day of my life. I guess the best way to tell you about me and Mummy would be to tell you about the first time we met. So, here goes .
[I]I ordered my drink from the bar and waited as the bartender filled my glass with alcohol. I was dressed in a very expensive-looking tuxedo. I was at one of those parties where all the big shots of LA went to meet the newbies of the biz. That was me. One of the newbies.
The bartender handed me my drink and I turned around. I walked right into some poor woman, spilling my cold drink all down the front of her dress; a slinky little black number that guaranteed to get the attention of some people in high places.
To this day, that was the luckiest move I've ever made.
She gasped as the cold liquid soaked to her skin.
"I am so sorry," I assured, quickly taking a napkin off the bar and using it to dry off her front.
"It's alright," she replied tiredly. "I've already met with everyone important anyway." Brushing a hand down her front, she extended the other toward me. "Buffy Summers."
I took her hand, hesitating only a moment before brushing my lips over her knuckles.
"Spike Windsor. Tell me, luv. What is a pretty little thing like you doing in a stuffy place like this?"
She smiled softly.
"I came here hoping to get an agent," she admitted, self-consciously pushing her long, dark blonde hair away from her face. "I'm an actress. You?"
"I am here on a similar quest." I slipped my hand into the pocket of my dress pants. "Looking for someone to represent my band."
Buffy tilted her head.
"Oh? What's the name?"
"Dark Side."
She nodded slowly.
"I like it."
"You know what I would like?"
Her dazzling green eyes studied me coyly.
"What?"
"It would make me obscenely happy," I started, "if you would come to see us play."
She paused, considering my offer.
"When?"
"How's next Saturday? Eight o'clock at The Bronze."
She smiled.
"Sounds perfect."
* * * I was on stage, tuning my guitar when she walked into the club and slid onto a stool at one of the few empty tables. I looked up and smiled stupidly at her when she waved. She looked so beautiful.
Angel leaned over his keyboard to my right and nodded at Buffy.
"That her?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said. "That's her alright."
He clapped me on the shoulder.
"Nice."[/I]
I've got to run now. Mummy has a craving.
~Daddy[/b]
Summary: Spike POV. Buffy was a struggling actress. Spike was trying to make it in the music biz. Both wanted their relationship to go somewhere, but neither seemed to have the time to put in the effort. Songfic.
Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy and Spike, yaddah yaddah yaddah. I don't own the song Making Love and Music, either. Man, I suck.
Chapter One
[b]Dear Baby,
I don't really know how to start this. My name is William Windsor. My friends call me Spike. I'm your daddy.
Your mummy and I have been together for two years and one month now. You're growing so fast. Mummy says you're trying to make her fat. She told me she was pregnant only last month and you're due to arrive in just five more months. Your mother and I are so excited. We can't wait for you to get here.
I guess I should tell you about me. Well, at the moment, I'm twenty-six years old. I live in Los Angeles with you mom, Buffy, who's twenty-four. She's an actress and she's really famous. I'm in a band with three of my best mates: Angel, Wesley and Gunn.
I married Mummy six months ago, and it was the happiest day of my life. I guess the best way to tell you about me and Mummy would be to tell you about the first time we met. So, here goes .
[I]I ordered my drink from the bar and waited as the bartender filled my glass with alcohol. I was dressed in a very expensive-looking tuxedo. I was at one of those parties where all the big shots of LA went to meet the newbies of the biz. That was me. One of the newbies.
The bartender handed me my drink and I turned around. I walked right into some poor woman, spilling my cold drink all down the front of her dress; a slinky little black number that guaranteed to get the attention of some people in high places.
To this day, that was the luckiest move I've ever made.
She gasped as the cold liquid soaked to her skin.
"I am so sorry," I assured, quickly taking a napkin off the bar and using it to dry off her front.
"It's alright," she replied tiredly. "I've already met with everyone important anyway." Brushing a hand down her front, she extended the other toward me. "Buffy Summers."
I took her hand, hesitating only a moment before brushing my lips over her knuckles.
"Spike Windsor. Tell me, luv. What is a pretty little thing like you doing in a stuffy place like this?"
She smiled softly.
"I came here hoping to get an agent," she admitted, self-consciously pushing her long, dark blonde hair away from her face. "I'm an actress. You?"
"I am here on a similar quest." I slipped my hand into the pocket of my dress pants. "Looking for someone to represent my band."
Buffy tilted her head.
"Oh? What's the name?"
"Dark Side."
She nodded slowly.
"I like it."
"You know what I would like?"
Her dazzling green eyes studied me coyly.
"What?"
"It would make me obscenely happy," I started, "if you would come to see us play."
She paused, considering my offer.
"When?"
"How's next Saturday? Eight o'clock at The Bronze."
She smiled.
"Sounds perfect."
* * * I was on stage, tuning my guitar when she walked into the club and slid onto a stool at one of the few empty tables. I looked up and smiled stupidly at her when she waved. She looked so beautiful.
Angel leaned over his keyboard to my right and nodded at Buffy.
"That her?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said. "That's her alright."
He clapped me on the shoulder.
"Nice."[/I]
I've got to run now. Mummy has a craving.
~Daddy[/b]
