Chapter Nine
A/N: Thanks so much for your patience. My computer crashed and I lost EVERYTHING. And, I haven't had a computer for 2 weeks while I waited for a new hard drive to come in.
Heads turned as the handsome young man swaggered into the banquet hall, clad in a crisp Ralph Lauren suit, a baby blue Ramones tee shirt peeking out from under the coat. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the crowd, his hand stuffed in his pockets.
"Hey." A vixenish brunette dressed in a short black dress approached him, twirling manicured nails through her curls. He raised an eyebrow at her.
"Not now, princess." He shoved her off, continuing his descent into the crowd.
"I don't think you want to do that." The brunette raised one arched eyebrow at him and smiled devilishly.
Angel peered into his full-length mirror, adjusting his silvery-black bowtie. He glanced at the wallet photograph stuck in the frame of his mirror—a smiling portrait of his beautiful girlfriend, smile gleaming up at the photographer. He brushed a thumb over it, the weight of the velvet box in his left pocket becoming heavier with each moment.
"Angel?" The door to his hotel room opened and his mother peered in, smiling.
"Yes?"
"Buffy is here." Jenny grinned, swinging the door open. Next to him stood his perfect, dainty, girlfriend---in shocking black. Not the innocent, gauzy, delicate dress he'd purchased for $650, but a silky confection of seed pearls and curves.
"Where'd you get that dress?"
"I'm sorry, Angel. I spilled juice on the dress when I was getting ready. I had to rush out and grab this an hour ago." Buffy felt the lie tumble from her lips before she knew it wasn't coming. She hadn't even attempted to concoct it. She was starting to notice that lying was becoming easier and easier. She smiled nervously at him, his broad shoulders handsomely clad in a fine designer suit.
"Oh, Buffy. It's okay." He smiled warily at her. She could tell he didn't fully believe her. "Ready?" He stuck out his arm and she placed her small hand in the crook of it.
"Ready."
"And just who do you think you are?" Spike looked the curvaceous woman up and down.
"Cordelia Chase. President of Delta Zeta." She stuck out her hand, her long red nails curling over his palm.
"Spose' that's supposed to mean something to me?" He brushed past her and she caught his arm.
"Don't walk away from me, Spike." Spike narrowed his ice blue eyes down at her, bewildered.
"How do you know my name?"
"Spike Giles. Step-brother of Angel Douglas. It's a wonder you're related---even by law."
"What makes you say that?"
"Oh, just the faint idea that your appearance screams gutter rat."
"Well, if you're done abusin' me, I've got to go find a lady." Spike turned on his heel.
"Oh, you mean Buffy?" He stopped dead in his tracks, breath catching his chest. "That's right. I mentioned you'd want to listen to me, didn't I?"
"What do you know?" Spike gritted his teeth, hands balling into fists at his sides. He'd never wanted to punch a female so badly.
"Well, I do know that I saw you kissing her last night. I also know that her boyfriend isn't going to be too happy about that."
Buffy walked hand in hand with Angel down the main hallway of the hotel. She was going to tell him the truth, tonight. She'd lay awake in bed all night considering her decision. Was she leaving him for Spike? Certainly not. What they'd done---it was reprehensible. But it had only proven to her the flawed nature of her relationship. She didn't love Angel—not if she could cheat on him with his step-brother. She looked at the handsome man at her side, frowning.
"Angel, I need to tell you something." Buffy stopped, pressing a hand against the wall and leaning into it.
"What is it? Are you okay?" Angel turned to face her, his brown furrowing in concern.
"No." She looked up at him with watery green eyes.
"It's about Spike isn't it?" Shock filled Buffy's veins---that was one response she was not expecting.
"Wh-What?"
"I know, Buffy. Well, I kind of do. Cordelia saw you two at the hotel last night."
"Why was Cordelia at the hotel?" Buffy felt anger flood her entire form---so she was right. He'd been fucking that bimbo, all the while refusing to touch her. How dare her ambush her about Spike?
"I.." Angel chewed on his lower lip.
"I knew you had been up to something over these last few weeks. And you have the audacity to corner me."
"I'm failing Stats, Buffy." Her face softened.
"What?"
"I'm failing Stats. I blew off my midterm project…Coach was threatening to bench me. Professor Wilcox told me I could make up my grade if I tutored Cordelia for the rest of the semester."
"Why didn't you just tell me?" Buffy felt her heart fall---all this time, she'd been telling herself that her lies were somehow okay because she'd been sure Angel had been cheating. She should've known better.
"I was embarrassed about how irresponsible I was." He admitted, honestly.
"I'm-I'm sorry." Buffy hung her head. Angel caught her chin and tipped it up towards him.
"Its okay, Buffy. I don't know how far it's gone and I don't need to know. I'm willing to forget it. I love you." Buffy blinked at him disbelievingly. He was willing to forget? Just let her deception go?
"But, Spike.." She wasn't sure what she was about to say. That she liked him? She never got a chance as Angel cut her off before she could finish.
"I know, Buffy. He's charming. It's not like you're the first girlfriend of mine he's tried to take." Buffy's eyes flew open. A cold fist closed around her heart. So she was game to Spike? Just…another way to hurt Angel? Her body filled with resolve.
"You're right, Angel. I hope you can forgive me." She tossed her hair over her shoulder.
"Now, let's go have a good night."
"What are you goin' to do, tell him? Go ahead, I don't care." Spike grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and tossed it down his throat.
"Oh, I don't need to. He already knows." Cordelia smiled, satisfied. Spike went silent, swallowing. "Oh, don't worry. He won't cut poor Buffy lose. He fed me some sob story about how you've done this before. You're a keeper, Spike."
"What do you want, you stupid bint?" Spike leaned in to her face.
"I just think we can be of service to one another."
"Look 'm not gonna bury my sorrows in your…"
"Um, Ew," Cordelia rolled her eyes. "For some crazy reason, you want Buffy, right?" Spike nodded.
"Well I want Angel. He was supposed to be mine. Until Buffy showed up and he lost all sense. It's too bad he's revoltingly faithful."
"What do you want me to do?"
Buffy and Angel entered the banquet hall through the grand double doors adorned with the glittering sign that said "Phi Beta/Delta Zeta Formal". Dingoes Ate My Baby were prepping on the stage while the DJ played top 40 tunes.
"Buffy!" Willow ran up to her friend, smiling. Her red hair was pulled back into an elegant French twist.
"Hey Will. I love the dress." She hugged the redhead, who was dressed in dark green tulle.
"Thanks! I'm so glad you are here. Oz is getting ready to play, and Xander and Anya are being gross." Willow darted her eyes to a back corner of the room where the couple was making out. Buffy rolled her eyes and smiled.
"Typical." Suddenly Buffy's eyes traveled over Willow's shoulder across the room, where the back of a very-blonde head was positioned. She knew who it was even before her spun around, as if he had felt her stare. Spike's hair was slicked back, smoother than usual. He was wearing a black Ralph Lauren suit, the single breasted buttons open to reveal a rumpled Ramones tee, the same color as his eyes. His eyes landed on her and she watched a painful look flash over his handsome features. Suddenly she became even more aware of Angel's hand holding hers and she dropped it.
"Buffy?" Willow waved her hand in front of her dazed friend.
"Yeah? Sorry." Buffy's eyes flitted away from Spike.
"Want to dance?" Angel smiled down at her and she nodded. He led her out to the dance floor, where the DJ was playing a slow, romantic number. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she pressed her palms and cheek against his chest, listening to the slow, steady thump of his heartbeat. She couldn't bear to look up at him, to admit that she didn't feel better. He forgave her…warned her that she just a silly conquest to Spike…and still she felt the urge to run off and away.
Spike stood in the back hallway, a glass of champagne clutched in his fist. He couldn't believe how stupid he'd been. What had he expected, really? For Buffy to waltz in, run toward him in slow motion and they'd live happily ever after? Of course not. But, somehow, he certainly hadn't expected her to walk in on the arm of his step-brother, looking gorgeous and happy.
Yet, she had. Blonde hair hanging softly around her face, lithe body clad in a silky, dark dress that clung to all the right places. She'd looked like a goddess---so much so that it was hard to feel angry, even in this moment.
And then she came around the corner, eyes wet with unhushed tears.
"Buffy?" His voice came out softer than he'd intended. She looked up from the floor and it was then that he noticed a ring box clutched in her hand.
"What?" Her shoulders slumped, the delicately beaded straps of her dress falling from her shoulders.
"Are you okay?" His face hardened. "I mean---what's all the fuss about?"
"Like you care." She readjusted her fallen strap. Spike focused on the line of black seed pearls that travelled down the center of her dress.
"Should I?" He gulped down the last of his champagne.
"I suppose not." Buffy stepped past him and continued in her quest to the ladies' room. He stopped her with one ice-cold hand to the shoulder.
"What's in your hand?" His thumb brushed against her collar bone.
"A ring." She dipped her head down, so that her breath was hot against his fingertips. He shuddered. He aligned his body against her back, his hand travelling down her shoulder, to her elbow, her wrist. He smoothed his palm against the palm of her belly.
"Why's that?"
"Angel knows."
"So I've been told."
"He asked me to marry him anyway." He voice broke on the last word and Spike felt her entire body tense. Part of him wanted to release his grip from her rigid form, but he couldn't pull away.
"Are you going to say yes?"
"I don't know." With one swift movement, he spun her around, clutching her by both shoulders.
"How can you not know?"
"Maybe I should take what I've got and run."
"That's bollocks and you know it." Spike leaned forward, brushing an almost-imperceptible kiss against her lips. She sucked in a breath and focused her eyes up on him.
"Is this just some way to get one up on Angel?" Spike shook his head and kissed her cheeks, her chin, and her forehead. Buffy's eyes fluttered closed.
"Stop fighting this, Summers. Just. Let. It. Happen." He grabbed her wrist, tugging her toward him. She resisted for a moment, before letting the words slip from her mouth.
"Okay."
"Angel? What's wrong?" Cordelia walked up to the brooding man. Only minutes before, she'd seen Angel and Buffy dancing slowly to the music, arms around one another, and now he was alone on the dance floor, eyes narrowed.
"I did it." His eyes closed and he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing.
"Did what?"
"Like I told you last night. I proposed." Cordelia's eyebrows raised in shock.
"Then why so gloomy?" She pressed a sympathetic hand to his bicep.
"I asked her. Showed her the ring. And she just ran off."
"Oh, Angel." She hugged him tightly, pressing her bust against him. "I told you she'd do that. I saw her kissing your step-brother, didn't I?"
"Spike has a way of making women act out of character, Cordy. I love her."
"Well, maybe she's just emotional. Why don't we dance while we wait for her to get back?" Cordelia wrapped her arms around his neck and began to sway.
"I don't know---shouldn't I look for her?"
"If she wanted to be found, she wouldn't have run away. She needs space. Trust me, I'm a woman. I know how we work."
Buffy and Spike stood inside the suite, at the entrance to his bedroom. Luckily, Giles and Jenny were out for the night and the penthouse was left uninhabited.
"I love this dress." Spike slid his hands over the smooth material, pausing to revel the curves hidden just beneath. He slid off his jacket, dropped it to the floor, and continued his assault on her mouth, kissing her breathless. He slid the straps from her toned shoulders and kissed the soft, bare skin there. Buffy slid her hands under the hem of his tee, her fingers travelling over the well-defined muscles of his stomach. Spike used on hand to turn the door knob and the pair tumbled inside, slamming the door behind them. Spike moved backwards, until he was seated on the king bed and Buffy was straddling him, her floor length skirt pushed up around her thigh. Spike tore his shirt off and Buffy leaned down to kiss his skin lightly, seductively, trailing her warm tongue over his skin. He leaned his head back and she suckled on the skin of his neck, causing his pants to become uncomfortably tight. "Fuck, Love. You drive me crazy."
"Sorry." Buffy's face flushed red and she pulled up. He smiled and shook his head.
"Not a bad thing." He reached for the hem of her dress and tugged it up over her head, tossing it on the floor. And then his whole body tensed up in excitement. Lingerie? Buffy looked down at her red and black clad figure, dressed in the underwear she'd picked out for the big night. She'd completely forgotten she was wearing it, even though the boning was digging into her skin all night.
"Oh, um." She mumbled, crossing her arms in front of the balconette.
"Stand up." Spike gently pushed her from his lap. She stepped back, straightened. "Turn around." Buffy spun around slowly, a smile forming on her lips. Spike stood to join her, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close. "You asked for it." He breathed headily onto her ear. His hands travelled to the back of the corset and began undoing the hook and eye closures, one by one. It was torture. The top fell away, leaving her in only black panties, thigh-high stockings, and sky-high black heels. He pushed her up against the wall, letting his hands travel across her half-naked form, over her heaving chest, her hardened nipples, and her hipbones. She stepped out of the heels, suddenly becoming much shorter than him and he chuckled. "That's better." He picked her up and carried her to the bed, trying to control himself as he set her down more gently than he would have liked.
"If you don't tell me stop now, I won't be able to." He warned, lying on top of her and nibbling at her ear.
"Stop from what?" Buffy looked up at him with feigned innocence.
"I want you." Spike ground his erection against her center and she arched up involuntarily.
"Don't."
"Don't what?" He licked a clean line up her neck and she shivered slightly.
"Don't….stop." Spike took this as all the permission he needs, sliding his body down to peel her thigh-highs off.
It was wrong. He knew it. He was going to make love to her, for her first time, on the very night that his step-brother had proposed. But he couldn't stop. Suddenly, the moment was very reminiscent of their tryst back at Thanksgiving. "Spike…" the name hissed from her lips. He pulled his hand away. "Stop teasing." She begged, pushing his hands back to her lower half. He hooked his fingers in the waistband over her underwear and slid them over her knees and ankles, tossing them off of the bed. "This is ridiculously unfair." She sat up and slid upwards until she was propped against the leather-clad headboard.
"Huh?" Spike was too mesmerized by her naked form to pay much attention. She pointed at his pants. He laughed. "So concerned with with fairness, pet." He unbuttoned the trousers, removed them, along with his boxers, so they were both completely naked.
Spike couldn't take it anymore; he slid up her body and kissed her deliciously parted lips, running a hand over her hair
"Mmmm…"
"Sorry." He pulled away. She gripped his hips and pulled him dangerously close. "Whoa…Summers. Hold on."
"But…I want you." She stuck out her lip in frustration. Suddenly Spike's eyes widened.
"I…I don't have a condom." His shoulders slumped and he cursed himself. He was about to bed Buffy Summers---the girl who'd become an obsession over the last six weeks of his life and now he'd gone and screwed it all up.
"I'm on the Pill."
"But…what?"
"Wishful thinking." She smiled devilishly and Spike couldn't help but kiss her senseless.
"Are you sure?" She nodded. "Tell me." He insisted.
"Make love to me."
