Chapter 7
There was nothing quite like retail therapy to ease the burden of being the chosen one, destined to fight evil wherever she went. Eyeing a sweet new bag, Buffy mused, 'well, if I don't deserve it, who the heck does?'
After paying, loaded down with shopping, Buffy and her mom stopped for coffee; Joyce was busy filling her in on her stay over in the city.
"The exhibition was amazing Buffy. I'm so glad I went."
Joyce sipped at her cappuccino then frowned.
"Helen's show turned out to be a troop of strippers! Can you believe that?"
Buffy burst out laughing, imagining her mom surrounded by oily thong-clad men.
Joyce looking slightly bemused shook her head.
"She always seemed so quiet at work."
They laughed all the way home and Buffy felt like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
After some serious consideration she phoned Willow and Xander arranging to meet later that evening at the Bronze. She'd just be out with her friends, no biggie. If she just happened to bump into her mystery man there it was pure coincidence.
Buffy headed to her room. Rifling through her shopping bags, she pulled out a tight fitting red dress and held it against herself. With a twirl and a smile, she reviewed her reflection.
Spike's day was spent rehearsing his Slayer-crushing monologue; it had to be just right. He wanted her to be humiliated, but above all else he wanted her to feel rejected and alone. Spike had learned a long time ago that cruelty like that was a hard to shake.
She'd definitely swallowed the bait hook, line and sinker. He remembered that stupid mooning smile plastered over her face. She was well and truly duped.
His hand rubbed at the spot where her stake had pierced his skin. Buffy had surprised him when she sprang into action and for a moment there he thought she was going to dust him. When she held him against the wall with that rage burning in her eyes, Spike had astounded himself with the mettle he'd shown in return.
It excited him to run the encounter through his mind again and again; Spike hated to admit it but when she was full on Slayer, fierce and full of fury, she was a true sight to behold.
Spike had even caught himself stealing a glance at her mouth. He chalked that one up to the memory of tasting her bloodied lips. Maybe it was some weird Pavlov's dog thing. In the end she'd bottled it; she had a moral code to uphold and it would be bad form to stake him when he was chipped.
Spike flicked on the TV. He needed something to occupy him until nightfall.
He got to the Bronze early, eager to see his plan unfold. Spike ordered himself a couple of beers and some chasers and headed up to the mezzanine. He tucked himself away in a dark corner, a place that gave him the best vantage spot. Now all he had to do was wait.
It was half nine. Finishing his beer he began to think that maybe Buffy hadn't taken the bait after all. As though on request he noticed the numbskull and the skinny narcissist making their way to a table, Spike smiled. It wasn't long before they were joined by the 'little witch that could' and shortly after that the Slayer.
She was wrapped in a long black leather coat and Spike smirked to himself as she unbuttoned it to reveal a bright red mini-dress.
The gang sat around the table conversing merrily. Spike noted Buffy surreptitiously scanning the room and he smiled; this was going to be even better than he had expected. There were quite a lot of guys out tonight wearing blue; it couldn't have worked out any better.
From time to time the Slayer locked eyes with a possible suspect and, filled with hope, she'd view her quarry before losing her nerve and lowering her gaze to her drink. He could feel her growing embarrassment and he loved it.
This was just what he had wanted; she looked so desperate shoehorned into that slip of a dress. She'd gone all out tonight she really must have wanted to make a good impression. Shame there was nobody coming to appreciate her pathetic efforts.
Buffy got up and made her way to the bar. It was then that he noticed it.
Spike looked around and realised that there were at least four men in blue that were watching her every move, returning her furtive glances. In fact there were a lot of men giving her the eye.
He frowned. What the hell?
Spike hadn't factored desperate guys into his scheming, but the more he watched the more satisfied he became that they wouldn't approach her. They viewed her with awe.
He peered down at the Slayer. Granted, she'd scrubbed up alright he mused, but why was she generating so much attention?
Spike raised an eyebrow and swallowed his whiskey chaser. Maybe it was her hair, he'd always liked her hair; the way it bounced about her shoulders like a bobbing golden wave.
She had quite a good body too he supposed; petite and poised...bendy looking.
Spike swallowed his second chaser.
Her face was alright; she had that childish look about her though, all sweetness and light and bubble-gum pop. He of course knew better.
She did have a great smile though and when she was in battle mode...yeah, now that was something to see.
Her hands were tiny; she probably couldn't even hold a pint with one but she somehow managed to wield a bloody broadsword.
As for her eyes; they were way too big for her face, she looked like a Disney princess batting her oversized lashes. Woodland creatures probably did her laundry.
He suddenly appreciated how delicate and feminine she looked considering the he-man strength she had coursing through her.
Spike watched as she walked back to her table; he looked at her tan legs and felt a chill course through him.
Rooted to the spot, he closed his eyes.
This could not be happening.
Not to him.
Spike opened his eyes and reluctantly looked down at her; she was laughing her face crinkled up in a gormless expression. He knew it then and felt like throwing himself over the rail. He fancied the Slayer.
He was so annoyed with himself. This, he decided changed nothing. The game was still on and the plan was still in effect. Spike watched Buffy in a slightly surreal daze; this new revelation had thrown him a little. His anger grew; trust her to do this to him now that he had her just where he wanted her. Spike psyched himself up for his soul-crushing big reveal; he was still going to make his move. His anger was now burning in him with renewed purpose, fuelled with an air of manic desperation and stubborn denial.
He saw his opportunity as Buffy headed to the toilet. Spike slipped down the stairs and waited outside the ladies door.
He wanted her to be destroyed. He wanted power over her. He wanted her to be hurt by him. Then unexpectedly he realized that most of all what he wanted was her attention and, by God after he'd let loose his tongue, he'd get it.
The door opened and Spike smiled maliciously as he readied himself for the kill.
This was stupid wasn't it? Definitely one of the stupidest things she had ever done. Why had she bought this ridiculous dress? More to the point, what was she doing sitting in the Bronze trying to catch the eye of every blue-clad guy in the place?
Denim!? Does that even count as blue?
She suddenly felt glad that she hadn't told Xander and Willow about her blind date.
The evening went by agonisingly slowly. Buffy put on her best fake smile and laughed heartily at Xander's jokes. She just couldn't relax; she kept looking for him. Maybe he'd had second thoughts.
Buffy felt a sadness wash over her and she realised only then how excited she had been to meet this mystery guy. The gang had just got up to dance and she used this opportunity to sneak off to the toilets to gather her thoughts.
Buffy looked at her reflection in the mirror.
"Roses are red violets are blue, you're such an idiot, stupid, idiot, idiot head!"
Great she couldn't even make that rhyme; her eyes filled with tears. Why was she crying?
She quickly shook herself and dabbed at her eyes; not too much mascara damage, at least that was something. Sighing and readying herself for more disappointment, she headed for the door. Pushing it open she looked up and met Spike's intense glare.
Buffy was caught off guard and she stumbled momentarily for something to say. Collecting herself, she shot him a swift insult.
"Spike, are you lurking outside ladies toilets now? Wow! Creepy, even for you."
Silence.
Buffy frowned.
"Normally this is where you make a rather unwitty retort."
Buffy watched as Spike worked his jaw and looked at her strangely. She decided her evening couldn't get any worse. Shaking her head, she started to walk past the vampire.
"You look nice."
Stunned Buffy stopped dead. She turned to face Spike.
"What did you say?"
Spike, looking almost shy, stared back at her from under a pained, furrowed brow.
"I said you look nice."
Buffy realised her mouth was open. She closed it and narrowed her eyes. Spike was squirming under her gaze; what was he up to?
"Really, if you're after more blood Spike you can do better than that."
Buffy pulled a face sucking in her cheeks in imitation. She put on her best mock English accent. "Oh' you look really nice."
She sounded like Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins and it hadn't come out as scathing as she'd wished, more comical than anything else.
Spike smiled at her. "I didn't say really nice, just nice."
Always with the sass.
Buffy shoved him. Spike rebounded off the wall his smile growing even bigger. Grabbing him by his leather collar she held him in front of her.
"Stay away from me."
Grasping him she looked into his eyes trying to push her point home. Satisfied, she let go of him but was surprised when Spike instantly seized her hands and held them in place against him. He moved closer to her.
"Let go of me Spike."
Spike tightened his grip on her. He licked his lips and Buffy felt a warmth bloom inside her as she viewed his mouth. His voice was husky.
"Say you want this Slayer."
Buffy blinked; what the hell was going on. She didn't really know what to say so she opted for a neutral "What?"
Spike wrapped his arm around her and he pulled her body in close so that it pressed along his. Buffy felt his hard body against hers. Her eyes widened as she felt an unexpected hardness pushed against her stomach. Buffy blushed feeling completely and utterly flustered.
Spike looked down at her. "Say you want it Slayer."
Buffy found herself wriggling in a half-hearted attempt to free herself from his grasp.
"Stop it Spike."
The movement only excited him more. Buffy felt his already hard cock stiffen and strain against his jeans. She instantly stopped moving. She realised shamefully that she had pushed her chest up and out, thrusting it below his appreciative eyes. She was practically panting 'what!? Now you're trying to defeat him with your heaving bosom?' Buffy felt his hand run down her back and slowly move to rest on her ass. He cupped her, pulling her closer still. Again he issued his request, his eyes pleading with her.
"Say you want it."
This time he lowered his mouth close to hers. Buffy's body, thrumming under his touch, wrestled for an appropriate response.
She was mortified when she realised she wanted to kiss him; even more so when she realised she might. No. She hadn't lost all her sense or reserve quite yet.
"Get off me Spike." Her tone was like an icy breeze that had blown in to cool the mounting heat between them. "I don't want anything from you."
Spike raised his head to look at her; he scrutinised her face for what seemed like an eternity then slowly he released her, turned and left through the back door.
Shell-shocked Buffy wandered back to her table totally thrown by what had just taken place. She sat down; instantly Anya noticed something was amiss.
"Why are you bright red? You know it's not flattering to be head to toe crimson. The only people who can pull that off are Spiderman and Clifford; neither of which, I'm sorry to inform you, are you."
Xander turned his attention her way. She felt trapped. What if they saw her guilt and guessed?
Willow looked Buffy over.
"Buffy are you feeling alright? You do look kinda glowy." She smiled suddenly. "Hey, did you get a sneaky shot while we were dancing?"
Buffy nodded, eager to jump on the excuse Willow had offered up.
"Yep, 'fraid you caught me!" she smiled meekly.
Anya looked at her pityingly as though viewing a chronic alcoholic case in the making. Maybe it would have been easier to tell them that she'd gone insane and nearly kissed Spike, in fact that she had actually kissed him once and maybe groped him a tiny bit too.
Then again, on reflection, being an alcoholic wasn't that bad.
