Silver Spoons
Dedications: Firstly, to the amazing writer Veruca Werewolf, who always posted my stories even when they were total shit. To anyone else that put my crappy stories on their websites, or left me great feedback. To the people that created sushi, because that is my current favorite food (god that stuff kicks so much serious ass). Lastly, to the bastard Joss Whedon, who pretends he doesn't even know me anymore, even after he told me he loved me. Joss honey, this ones for you, you self righteous prick! Suck on this!
A/n: Hey readers, here's Johnny! Just joking, I've just always wanted to say that. But actually, this is the next chapter. After this one, I don't know how fast I'll be able to update. I've got several other stories, and soon school starts again (I hate school almost as much as I loathe Riley Finn), so my already limited time will be even more limited. Anywho, once again, it seems I must take time to clarify this story once more. I have to say, I bet I'm the only author that gets flak for writing A/U fictions. For the last time, everyone is human, there are no vampires, Buffy is not a Slayer, and the Backstreet Boys will not be making an appearance in here! (don't even ask about that, please don't.) I'm sorry if y'all don't like it, but that's not my problem. So. Yeah. Just wanted to let that out. Sorry to all you wonderful, magnificent reviewers that did not send flames my way. You are the people that give me happies, in a major, non-Angelus turning way. Thank you, dears. I love you. On with the craziness!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Bronze was crowded as usual, people filling every corner and taking up every seat. The atmosphere was dark and smoky, dim lights casting shadows over bright faces beaming with excited smiles and suggestive winks. Pounding salsa music resounded within the building, dancers gyrating on the packed dance floor. Couples hooked up, broke up, and made up, especially on the plush couches littering the corners, filled with intense glances and hungry aches. William Giles, otherwise known as Spike, took in the scene with immense satisfaction, glad that someplace in the small town had some good tunes and hot girls.
Seated with Cordelia, Xander, some chit named Faith and her boyfriend Angel, a redhead and her quiet rocker boyfriend, Spike was languorously draped in his chair, drinking some booze and finishing off a plate off spicy chicken wings. It was his second plate, and he smacked his lips in appreciation as he polished off yet another sauce-covered wing. Cordelia, Willow, and Faith were immersed in suspicious conversation, voices high and eyes searching for someone, but the boys were amusing themselves. Angel had broken off from the male conversation long enough to give Spike a distasteful look, as he took a deep swig of his bottle of beer.
"Do you have to do that after every wing?" Angel asked in disdain, and Spike snorted. He leveled his blue gaze with Angel's dark one, thinking of all the ways he would love to torture this annoying bugger with bad hair. Spike instead shrugged easily, licking of one long finger as he kept his gaze with Angel.
"Yes, I do. Do you have to wear so much hair gel, mate? Or does the hairstyle go with the poofter clothes?" Spike shot back innocently, and Xander snickered. Oz gave an amused look, and even Spike could see the beginnings of a smile on Angel's face. Finally, he broke out into a wide smile, and Spike smirked back. Maybe the bloke isn't that bad after all. The boys resumed their conversation, much more easier then before. The girls were still very secretive though, and Spike looked at them carefully as they clucked like mother hens. No matter what country he was in, it seemed that girls would always be a mystery to him.
He had been surprised when that annoying Buffy-bitch hadn't shown up, as she seemed to be such close friends with Cordelia. He had decided that he didn't really hate her, just intensely disliked her. After all, she had twinged something deep in Spike's heart, before she had opened that big mouth of hers. It was weird how the girl seemed to look through him to his very soul the first time they had met, before that 'incident' in his cousin's kitchen.
Spike shrugged again, anxious to forget about the whole ordeal. He didn't want heartburn after such a big meal. Pushing away the empty basket, he sat back in his seat and rooted around in his duster pocket before pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Lighting one, he let it dangle loosely from his mouth while he surveyed the whole club scene, eyes sliding appreciatively over two girls dancing in skimpy clothes. His mind was drifting when he suddenly snapped to attention, hearing Willow call out "Buffy!" before frantically waving her over. He swallowed a cringe, willing himself to stay calm and silent, trying not to bolt right now. He wasn't in the mood for a new scrap at the moment, but judging from the smiles Xander and Angel were sharing, they were hoping for a good one in the middle of the busy din. Rolling his eyes, Spike pasted a bored look on his face as he turned to the direction Willow was beckoning at.
His mouth opened wide and his blue eyes grew huge, smoking cigarette dropping onto his lap. He didn't take notice of it until it started burning him, very close to his bits. He grabbed it hurriedly, hoping no permanent damage to his package had been done, eyes never leaving the vision in front of him. Placing the smushed stick back into his mouth, he unabashedly stared at Buffy, similar to the many other appreciative glances of the males in the room. He almost felt possessive as he caught the stares, too worked up to realize that he had no right to feel so. Even Xander and Angel, and Oz slightly, were blinded by the Buffy brilliance. Forgetting to be mad, Spike smiled, thinking how he'd love to have that little thing as his, preferably writhing under him as she moaned his name.
She was dressed in some stringy red cloth that passed as a dress. Slits up to there revealed tanned thighs, toned and strong, leading down to shapely calves wrapped halfway up with red string from her heeled sandals. The top of the dress dipped low, revealing smooth curves and long arms. Golden hair hung in waves reaching just past her bare shoulders, illuminant in the low lights. Her face was smiling and simply made up, lips shiny and eyes bright. Spike found himself wanting her even more, anger almost vanishing in little puffs. But it all rushed back when she looked at him, surprised, and that scowl slipped over her features, hazel eyes hardening. Spike scowled back, eyes turning as cold as chips of blue ice. He took a deep swig of his beer, and pretended not to acknowledge Buffy as she reached their table.
***
Buffy had been a little surprised, but not very, when she had spotted Spike lounging in a chair at the table her friends were at. She had walked into the Bronze full of excitement and anticipation, especially as she received hungry glances from some of the male population in the Bronze, but as soon as she had seen him it almost completely vanished. All of her hurt and anger at him rushed back to the surface, pushing away logic and guilt at the way she had treated him. She was stubborn, and hated to admit she was wrong, even though she knew she had been. And she was more then sorry, especially when she remembered the sparks flying in Cordy's kitchen that evening. Eyes slowly drifted half shut as she was brought back to that moment, heart pounding in anticipation from him, reduced to a quivering mass with one gaze from him. He smelled so good, looked so good, too, and he had this look in his eyes that had made her want to swoon; it was like he had wanted her badly, lusted after her, and could barely hold back anymore.
But then his hateful words had clouded over everything else.
He was beside Xander, beer bottle in front of him. He had a cigarette dangling from his sensuous lips, and he had looked so damn sexy as he puffed away, smoke curling around his white hair. His lean body was draped with a black leather coat, and underneath revealed a tight black t-shirt. She couldn't see his bottom half, but was sure that he had another pair of tight jeans that would show off his amazing ass. Buffy had to refrain herself from smiling like a goon when she had spotted him looking all yummy and delicious, forgetting about her sleazy boyfriend and the huge fight that had left her hurting the rest of the night. Instead, she had wanted him to hold her and never let her go, kiss her until she was breathless, tell her that he wanted her and never meant anything he had said that night. But she didn't, and he wouldn't.
All of a sudden her pained feelings resurfaced with a vengeance, and it was enough to break her lust induced gaze. She was slammed with vivid pictures of Riley, and she almost choked on the guilt. Girlfriends did not lust after mean British guys. Well, not good girlfriends, anyways. Especially British guys that were hurtful and looking so good- uh, not that cute, and cursed like sailors. Nope, she wasn't one of them. A half-hearted scowl broke out onto her face as he looked at her, and she felt her heart sag as he scowled right back, much more enthusiastic then her own. Sucking up her courage, she flounced to the crowded table, taking a seat away from Spike, beside Willow and Faith, never sparing a glance at him. She immediately immersed herself in the conversation, greeting her friends in a general manner.
Buffy had hoped everyone would continue on with their own conversations again, but it seemed that as soon as she had come, everyone was silent, waiting, anticipating either another fight, or by the look in Cordy and Willow's eyes, an apology from each of them. Sighing, she frowned as the table was swept in awkward silence, Spike looking away while Buffy pretended to scratch her chin, the rest of her friends eagerly eyeing the both of them, eyes flicking back and forth between the two blondes. Willow whispered something to Cordy, and Buffy's honey eyebrows shot up to her hairline as she heard the words, "How do we make them apologize now that we got them together?"
Buffy turned to Willow, seething, her mouth tight, and snapped loudly "Oh, so you planned this all, huh? You purposely told me to come tonight because you knew Spike would be here, and you thought, in your deranged, insane minds, that we would suddenly be inspired to forgive each other and start falling in love, right?"
Willow blanched, and Faith and Cordelia's eyes widened comically. They sputtered for a few minutes, Angel and Xander swigging their beers in amusement, Spike looking angry himself while he waited for their answer, one dark eyebrow cocked. Finally, Oz cleared his throat, and it seemed to breathe logical speech back into Willow. She sputtered once more before shooting Oz a pleading glance, jumping off the stool, and grabbing his hand. She asked him quickly to dance, and before he could even answer she pulled him into the crowd, blurs of red and blue hair, and they disappeared. Cordy and Faith were left to answer, Buffy crossing her arms as she appraised them. Faith hummed a little, eyes glancing everywhere but at Buffy, until she finally said, "Angel, I'm gonna get another drink. Come with?"
He looked at her, smirking and shaking is head, wanting to see the next fight erupt, until she gave him a dark look and there was a loud thump from under the table. Angel grabbed his shin and winced, Spike snorting and Buffy rolling her eyes. Xander chuckled as Angel feebly answered "Sure," and the two brunettes walked off to the bar, Angel limping as Faith scolded him for not saying yes the first time. Cordy glared at Faith's back, muttering under her breath, and she looked back at Buffy. Cordy adopted a confused, disoriented look, and her eyebrows scrunched together. "Hmm? What?" Cordy said loudly, and Buffy glared at her. Spike put out his cigarette, the stick looking oddly crushed to Buffy, but she shook her head and focused back on her friend, who was looking at Xander, trying to speak to him with her wide eyes. But Xander, ever the slow learner, shook his head at her and squinted his eyes. Cordy sighed in exasperation, flipping back her long mane.
"Sorry Buff, but me and Xander gotta go. Right Xander, remember that thing? The thing that we absolutely can't miss, and have to leave to go to right now?" Cordy asked Xander, who again shook his head stupidly. Cordelia practically growled, and leaned over the table so she could give him a hard, intense kiss. Spike smiled before he looked away again, aloof expression on his face. Buffy just glared at them, scowling when they pulled apart. Cordy smiled in satisfaction, wide-eyed Xander hitting his head with one hand as he glanced at the other two.
"Oh, yes, the thing, the thing. I remember, that thing we have to go too, and have to go to now, or else the thing can't happen, and it's over, and-"
"Yeah, we have to leave." Cordy cut in smoothly, putting a graceful end to Xander's babbling. Buffy raised one eyebrow again, and Spike gazed at her skeptically. She shrugged apologetically, and gave a quick smile as she stood up, pulling Xander along with her. She waved brightly with one hand, trying to feel upbeat that the two scowling blondes would somehow begin to love each other. "Well, bye guys, see you later. I'll see you tonight at home, Spike. You two try to get along, alright? I know that you guys are totally the other's type, so just try to work things out-"
This time it was Xander who interrupted, waving his good-bye, giving Spike a "call me tonight," before walking away with Cordelia. Soon they were gone, and Buffy and Spike were left sitting alone at the high table. They were silent, anger palpable, as they pretended not to take note of each other, both with their arms crossed stubbornly. Finally, Buffy had to break the intense silence, and she did so by turning her gaze over to him, and quietly saying "You don't have to stay here, you know. You could go ask someone to dance or something."
Spike bristled, gaze never wavering at the dance floor. He looked at her briefly, blue eyes shocking her with intense feeling, then turned away from her again.
"Well, excuse me for tainting your divine presence with my soddin' unworthiness. Sorry for invading your space, and sitting where you don't want me too. Because everyone bloody well knows that I live to please you, Miss Summers." Spike retorted sharply, and Buffy's eyes widened, stung with his words once again. She knew that she deserved them, but it hurt so much the way he managed to inject such hate and venom in each syllable. It was like he couldn't stand her, and wanted to be anywhere else then with her. Buffy wanted to apologize for everything she had said to him, but it was like this barrier was blocking the apology from coming out, and instead cruel words poured forth. So instead of the "sorry" she wanted to say, she instead clenched her jaw and said, "Fuck off, Spike."
He then turned his full gaze onto her, blue eyes dipping down into her very soul, and she felt exposed to him. Spike didn't answer back, just looked at her, and she just stared back. They were caught in this moment again, this rare time when they were the only two people in the whole world, in the middle of the packed, pounding club. It was only them that mattered, only them that were there in front of the other. Buffy knew at that moment, that Spike was special. Not only special, yet someone that her heart yearned for, craved, hungered for night and day, and had hungered for unnoticed until he had come along. It wasn't this way with Riley, and never would be with anyone else. In that instant, she knew that she felt something deep for him, something foreign and terrifying and intense, and she was scared. She was scared of this rush of emotions, this tidal wave of feeling. So she looked away as quickly as possible, effectively ending the timeless moment.
Spike blinked as she looked away, confused to find himself immersed in a huge pot of boiling sensations. His heart felt pierced, and it was aching as though it needed something, or someone. Spike frowned, trying to find the source of these strange emotions. He looked once more at Buffy, and he got his answer. Every time he looked at her, or even thought of her, his heart would sing and his stomach would leap into his throat. He didn't understand it, didn't want too, and he pretended that it wasn't even there. But he had to do something, had to touch her, or else it felt like he would explode in nervous energy. Clearing his throat, he said to her, "Care to dance, you spoiled chit?"
She looked back at him surprise, eyes flashing in anger, and he held his breath as he waited for her to say no. For some reason he felt like he would die if she said no, so he waited anxiously while she seemed to deeply contemplate it. Finally she looked back up at him, and with a tiny smile, she nodded, standing up. He smiled back, not nearly as big as he wanted it to be, content with her just saying yes but acting nonchalant. Following her to a free spot on the swaying dance floor, he admired the curve of her hip and the shape of her ass. He smirked devilishly as she turned around and found him staring at the particular spot, and was scowling as he pulled her into his arms, finding the rhythm of the sensual slow song.
Buffy almost gasped as his arms surrounded her, and Spike bit back his own grunt of surprise. When the two joined, his arms tight around her hips, her arms slung around his lean shoulders, it felt so right, like they had come home. Buffy instead swallowed the feeling, and grumpily said, "Do you always have to be such a pervert?" Spike looked down at her, blue eyes clouded and sexy, and she felt like she was melting into his arms. One of his trademark grins tugged at his lips, and he nodded his head slowly, transfixed by the play of light across her face. "Of course. Do you always have to be such a bitchy prat?" he asked back, and her face distorted with anger. He nearly slapped himself for ruining the perfect moment, berating himself for being such a mean arse.
"No I don't, Bleach boy, and I think that you should shut your dirty mouth," Buffy retorted snidely, and he started to feel angered himself. He didn't understand why she took everything so personally, why she just couldn't relax and let things roll off of her sometimes. He ignored the fact that he was the exact same way. Instead, he leered at her, eyes sparking flames.
"Oh, looks like the prude got her panties in a twist."
"I am not a prude! You're just a bastard who screws anything with long hair and nice legs!"
"Oh yeah?" he said, and was about to say something rude back when he noticed how incredibly sexy she was when she got angry. Majorly turned on, he glared down at her, arms still holding her tightly around the waist. She glared right back, hazel eyes flashing with menace. The air cackled and hummed with nervous, sultry energy, the sparks shooting between them almost visible. Spike suddenly felt the urge to kiss her, to bite at that lower lip that was slightly jutting out, and he decided to act upon it. Quick as a flash his head was lowered and his lips were on hers, demanding entrance with a fierce, almost angry passion. She resisted at first, but then her lips relaxed and she was kissing him back, with just as much intensity. It was feral and erotic, and so good, and she wished it would never stop. His lips were sensual and soft, and oh god, they were so skilled, but eventually she needed to breathe, and she pulled away panting, not a second thought to what she was doing, and who she was doing it with. Riley never even entered her hazy mind.
They didn't speak, didn't need too, but just continued to glare with ferocity. Their arms dropped, and they stood there in silence, unaware of the people surrounding them, the noise or the pulsing lights. He took one look at her swollen lips, hair tousled as she panted with exertion, and he felt a swell of pride at her disarray. He leaned forward once more, and her breath hitched in anticipation. He smirked widely, heart still thrumming wildly from the amazing kiss.
"I would be the best you would ever have, baby. But I won't give it until you ask." He whispered, and gave her one more hard kiss before he turned and stalked off, angry and shaken by the kiss. She stood there, bright eyes wide and heart pounding in the middle of the dance floor, confused and guilty. Glancing at his retreating black form once more, she touched a hand to her tingling lips before she turned and ran out herself, heart singing in love yet mind screaming at her foolishness.
*To be continued.
A/n: Please review. I love reviews, as you might already know. As I've said before, I'm a feedback slut, and I'll take it anytime, anywhere, from anyone. Any flames? Send 'em my fucking way, so I can curse and spit at you (yeah, um, right.) Gotta go for now, but hopefully I'll see y'all again soon. A million kisses, and if you want, I can flash everyone too, just for being such great readers. Bye, baby.
Dedications: Firstly, to the amazing writer Veruca Werewolf, who always posted my stories even when they were total shit. To anyone else that put my crappy stories on their websites, or left me great feedback. To the people that created sushi, because that is my current favorite food (god that stuff kicks so much serious ass). Lastly, to the bastard Joss Whedon, who pretends he doesn't even know me anymore, even after he told me he loved me. Joss honey, this ones for you, you self righteous prick! Suck on this!
A/n: Hey readers, here's Johnny! Just joking, I've just always wanted to say that. But actually, this is the next chapter. After this one, I don't know how fast I'll be able to update. I've got several other stories, and soon school starts again (I hate school almost as much as I loathe Riley Finn), so my already limited time will be even more limited. Anywho, once again, it seems I must take time to clarify this story once more. I have to say, I bet I'm the only author that gets flak for writing A/U fictions. For the last time, everyone is human, there are no vampires, Buffy is not a Slayer, and the Backstreet Boys will not be making an appearance in here! (don't even ask about that, please don't.) I'm sorry if y'all don't like it, but that's not my problem. So. Yeah. Just wanted to let that out. Sorry to all you wonderful, magnificent reviewers that did not send flames my way. You are the people that give me happies, in a major, non-Angelus turning way. Thank you, dears. I love you. On with the craziness!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Bronze was crowded as usual, people filling every corner and taking up every seat. The atmosphere was dark and smoky, dim lights casting shadows over bright faces beaming with excited smiles and suggestive winks. Pounding salsa music resounded within the building, dancers gyrating on the packed dance floor. Couples hooked up, broke up, and made up, especially on the plush couches littering the corners, filled with intense glances and hungry aches. William Giles, otherwise known as Spike, took in the scene with immense satisfaction, glad that someplace in the small town had some good tunes and hot girls.
Seated with Cordelia, Xander, some chit named Faith and her boyfriend Angel, a redhead and her quiet rocker boyfriend, Spike was languorously draped in his chair, drinking some booze and finishing off a plate off spicy chicken wings. It was his second plate, and he smacked his lips in appreciation as he polished off yet another sauce-covered wing. Cordelia, Willow, and Faith were immersed in suspicious conversation, voices high and eyes searching for someone, but the boys were amusing themselves. Angel had broken off from the male conversation long enough to give Spike a distasteful look, as he took a deep swig of his bottle of beer.
"Do you have to do that after every wing?" Angel asked in disdain, and Spike snorted. He leveled his blue gaze with Angel's dark one, thinking of all the ways he would love to torture this annoying bugger with bad hair. Spike instead shrugged easily, licking of one long finger as he kept his gaze with Angel.
"Yes, I do. Do you have to wear so much hair gel, mate? Or does the hairstyle go with the poofter clothes?" Spike shot back innocently, and Xander snickered. Oz gave an amused look, and even Spike could see the beginnings of a smile on Angel's face. Finally, he broke out into a wide smile, and Spike smirked back. Maybe the bloke isn't that bad after all. The boys resumed their conversation, much more easier then before. The girls were still very secretive though, and Spike looked at them carefully as they clucked like mother hens. No matter what country he was in, it seemed that girls would always be a mystery to him.
He had been surprised when that annoying Buffy-bitch hadn't shown up, as she seemed to be such close friends with Cordelia. He had decided that he didn't really hate her, just intensely disliked her. After all, she had twinged something deep in Spike's heart, before she had opened that big mouth of hers. It was weird how the girl seemed to look through him to his very soul the first time they had met, before that 'incident' in his cousin's kitchen.
Spike shrugged again, anxious to forget about the whole ordeal. He didn't want heartburn after such a big meal. Pushing away the empty basket, he sat back in his seat and rooted around in his duster pocket before pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Lighting one, he let it dangle loosely from his mouth while he surveyed the whole club scene, eyes sliding appreciatively over two girls dancing in skimpy clothes. His mind was drifting when he suddenly snapped to attention, hearing Willow call out "Buffy!" before frantically waving her over. He swallowed a cringe, willing himself to stay calm and silent, trying not to bolt right now. He wasn't in the mood for a new scrap at the moment, but judging from the smiles Xander and Angel were sharing, they were hoping for a good one in the middle of the busy din. Rolling his eyes, Spike pasted a bored look on his face as he turned to the direction Willow was beckoning at.
His mouth opened wide and his blue eyes grew huge, smoking cigarette dropping onto his lap. He didn't take notice of it until it started burning him, very close to his bits. He grabbed it hurriedly, hoping no permanent damage to his package had been done, eyes never leaving the vision in front of him. Placing the smushed stick back into his mouth, he unabashedly stared at Buffy, similar to the many other appreciative glances of the males in the room. He almost felt possessive as he caught the stares, too worked up to realize that he had no right to feel so. Even Xander and Angel, and Oz slightly, were blinded by the Buffy brilliance. Forgetting to be mad, Spike smiled, thinking how he'd love to have that little thing as his, preferably writhing under him as she moaned his name.
She was dressed in some stringy red cloth that passed as a dress. Slits up to there revealed tanned thighs, toned and strong, leading down to shapely calves wrapped halfway up with red string from her heeled sandals. The top of the dress dipped low, revealing smooth curves and long arms. Golden hair hung in waves reaching just past her bare shoulders, illuminant in the low lights. Her face was smiling and simply made up, lips shiny and eyes bright. Spike found himself wanting her even more, anger almost vanishing in little puffs. But it all rushed back when she looked at him, surprised, and that scowl slipped over her features, hazel eyes hardening. Spike scowled back, eyes turning as cold as chips of blue ice. He took a deep swig of his beer, and pretended not to acknowledge Buffy as she reached their table.
***
Buffy had been a little surprised, but not very, when she had spotted Spike lounging in a chair at the table her friends were at. She had walked into the Bronze full of excitement and anticipation, especially as she received hungry glances from some of the male population in the Bronze, but as soon as she had seen him it almost completely vanished. All of her hurt and anger at him rushed back to the surface, pushing away logic and guilt at the way she had treated him. She was stubborn, and hated to admit she was wrong, even though she knew she had been. And she was more then sorry, especially when she remembered the sparks flying in Cordy's kitchen that evening. Eyes slowly drifted half shut as she was brought back to that moment, heart pounding in anticipation from him, reduced to a quivering mass with one gaze from him. He smelled so good, looked so good, too, and he had this look in his eyes that had made her want to swoon; it was like he had wanted her badly, lusted after her, and could barely hold back anymore.
But then his hateful words had clouded over everything else.
He was beside Xander, beer bottle in front of him. He had a cigarette dangling from his sensuous lips, and he had looked so damn sexy as he puffed away, smoke curling around his white hair. His lean body was draped with a black leather coat, and underneath revealed a tight black t-shirt. She couldn't see his bottom half, but was sure that he had another pair of tight jeans that would show off his amazing ass. Buffy had to refrain herself from smiling like a goon when she had spotted him looking all yummy and delicious, forgetting about her sleazy boyfriend and the huge fight that had left her hurting the rest of the night. Instead, she had wanted him to hold her and never let her go, kiss her until she was breathless, tell her that he wanted her and never meant anything he had said that night. But she didn't, and he wouldn't.
All of a sudden her pained feelings resurfaced with a vengeance, and it was enough to break her lust induced gaze. She was slammed with vivid pictures of Riley, and she almost choked on the guilt. Girlfriends did not lust after mean British guys. Well, not good girlfriends, anyways. Especially British guys that were hurtful and looking so good- uh, not that cute, and cursed like sailors. Nope, she wasn't one of them. A half-hearted scowl broke out onto her face as he looked at her, and she felt her heart sag as he scowled right back, much more enthusiastic then her own. Sucking up her courage, she flounced to the crowded table, taking a seat away from Spike, beside Willow and Faith, never sparing a glance at him. She immediately immersed herself in the conversation, greeting her friends in a general manner.
Buffy had hoped everyone would continue on with their own conversations again, but it seemed that as soon as she had come, everyone was silent, waiting, anticipating either another fight, or by the look in Cordy and Willow's eyes, an apology from each of them. Sighing, she frowned as the table was swept in awkward silence, Spike looking away while Buffy pretended to scratch her chin, the rest of her friends eagerly eyeing the both of them, eyes flicking back and forth between the two blondes. Willow whispered something to Cordy, and Buffy's honey eyebrows shot up to her hairline as she heard the words, "How do we make them apologize now that we got them together?"
Buffy turned to Willow, seething, her mouth tight, and snapped loudly "Oh, so you planned this all, huh? You purposely told me to come tonight because you knew Spike would be here, and you thought, in your deranged, insane minds, that we would suddenly be inspired to forgive each other and start falling in love, right?"
Willow blanched, and Faith and Cordelia's eyes widened comically. They sputtered for a few minutes, Angel and Xander swigging their beers in amusement, Spike looking angry himself while he waited for their answer, one dark eyebrow cocked. Finally, Oz cleared his throat, and it seemed to breathe logical speech back into Willow. She sputtered once more before shooting Oz a pleading glance, jumping off the stool, and grabbing his hand. She asked him quickly to dance, and before he could even answer she pulled him into the crowd, blurs of red and blue hair, and they disappeared. Cordy and Faith were left to answer, Buffy crossing her arms as she appraised them. Faith hummed a little, eyes glancing everywhere but at Buffy, until she finally said, "Angel, I'm gonna get another drink. Come with?"
He looked at her, smirking and shaking is head, wanting to see the next fight erupt, until she gave him a dark look and there was a loud thump from under the table. Angel grabbed his shin and winced, Spike snorting and Buffy rolling her eyes. Xander chuckled as Angel feebly answered "Sure," and the two brunettes walked off to the bar, Angel limping as Faith scolded him for not saying yes the first time. Cordy glared at Faith's back, muttering under her breath, and she looked back at Buffy. Cordy adopted a confused, disoriented look, and her eyebrows scrunched together. "Hmm? What?" Cordy said loudly, and Buffy glared at her. Spike put out his cigarette, the stick looking oddly crushed to Buffy, but she shook her head and focused back on her friend, who was looking at Xander, trying to speak to him with her wide eyes. But Xander, ever the slow learner, shook his head at her and squinted his eyes. Cordy sighed in exasperation, flipping back her long mane.
"Sorry Buff, but me and Xander gotta go. Right Xander, remember that thing? The thing that we absolutely can't miss, and have to leave to go to right now?" Cordy asked Xander, who again shook his head stupidly. Cordelia practically growled, and leaned over the table so she could give him a hard, intense kiss. Spike smiled before he looked away again, aloof expression on his face. Buffy just glared at them, scowling when they pulled apart. Cordy smiled in satisfaction, wide-eyed Xander hitting his head with one hand as he glanced at the other two.
"Oh, yes, the thing, the thing. I remember, that thing we have to go too, and have to go to now, or else the thing can't happen, and it's over, and-"
"Yeah, we have to leave." Cordy cut in smoothly, putting a graceful end to Xander's babbling. Buffy raised one eyebrow again, and Spike gazed at her skeptically. She shrugged apologetically, and gave a quick smile as she stood up, pulling Xander along with her. She waved brightly with one hand, trying to feel upbeat that the two scowling blondes would somehow begin to love each other. "Well, bye guys, see you later. I'll see you tonight at home, Spike. You two try to get along, alright? I know that you guys are totally the other's type, so just try to work things out-"
This time it was Xander who interrupted, waving his good-bye, giving Spike a "call me tonight," before walking away with Cordelia. Soon they were gone, and Buffy and Spike were left sitting alone at the high table. They were silent, anger palpable, as they pretended not to take note of each other, both with their arms crossed stubbornly. Finally, Buffy had to break the intense silence, and she did so by turning her gaze over to him, and quietly saying "You don't have to stay here, you know. You could go ask someone to dance or something."
Spike bristled, gaze never wavering at the dance floor. He looked at her briefly, blue eyes shocking her with intense feeling, then turned away from her again.
"Well, excuse me for tainting your divine presence with my soddin' unworthiness. Sorry for invading your space, and sitting where you don't want me too. Because everyone bloody well knows that I live to please you, Miss Summers." Spike retorted sharply, and Buffy's eyes widened, stung with his words once again. She knew that she deserved them, but it hurt so much the way he managed to inject such hate and venom in each syllable. It was like he couldn't stand her, and wanted to be anywhere else then with her. Buffy wanted to apologize for everything she had said to him, but it was like this barrier was blocking the apology from coming out, and instead cruel words poured forth. So instead of the "sorry" she wanted to say, she instead clenched her jaw and said, "Fuck off, Spike."
He then turned his full gaze onto her, blue eyes dipping down into her very soul, and she felt exposed to him. Spike didn't answer back, just looked at her, and she just stared back. They were caught in this moment again, this rare time when they were the only two people in the whole world, in the middle of the packed, pounding club. It was only them that mattered, only them that were there in front of the other. Buffy knew at that moment, that Spike was special. Not only special, yet someone that her heart yearned for, craved, hungered for night and day, and had hungered for unnoticed until he had come along. It wasn't this way with Riley, and never would be with anyone else. In that instant, she knew that she felt something deep for him, something foreign and terrifying and intense, and she was scared. She was scared of this rush of emotions, this tidal wave of feeling. So she looked away as quickly as possible, effectively ending the timeless moment.
Spike blinked as she looked away, confused to find himself immersed in a huge pot of boiling sensations. His heart felt pierced, and it was aching as though it needed something, or someone. Spike frowned, trying to find the source of these strange emotions. He looked once more at Buffy, and he got his answer. Every time he looked at her, or even thought of her, his heart would sing and his stomach would leap into his throat. He didn't understand it, didn't want too, and he pretended that it wasn't even there. But he had to do something, had to touch her, or else it felt like he would explode in nervous energy. Clearing his throat, he said to her, "Care to dance, you spoiled chit?"
She looked back at him surprise, eyes flashing in anger, and he held his breath as he waited for her to say no. For some reason he felt like he would die if she said no, so he waited anxiously while she seemed to deeply contemplate it. Finally she looked back up at him, and with a tiny smile, she nodded, standing up. He smiled back, not nearly as big as he wanted it to be, content with her just saying yes but acting nonchalant. Following her to a free spot on the swaying dance floor, he admired the curve of her hip and the shape of her ass. He smirked devilishly as she turned around and found him staring at the particular spot, and was scowling as he pulled her into his arms, finding the rhythm of the sensual slow song.
Buffy almost gasped as his arms surrounded her, and Spike bit back his own grunt of surprise. When the two joined, his arms tight around her hips, her arms slung around his lean shoulders, it felt so right, like they had come home. Buffy instead swallowed the feeling, and grumpily said, "Do you always have to be such a pervert?" Spike looked down at her, blue eyes clouded and sexy, and she felt like she was melting into his arms. One of his trademark grins tugged at his lips, and he nodded his head slowly, transfixed by the play of light across her face. "Of course. Do you always have to be such a bitchy prat?" he asked back, and her face distorted with anger. He nearly slapped himself for ruining the perfect moment, berating himself for being such a mean arse.
"No I don't, Bleach boy, and I think that you should shut your dirty mouth," Buffy retorted snidely, and he started to feel angered himself. He didn't understand why she took everything so personally, why she just couldn't relax and let things roll off of her sometimes. He ignored the fact that he was the exact same way. Instead, he leered at her, eyes sparking flames.
"Oh, looks like the prude got her panties in a twist."
"I am not a prude! You're just a bastard who screws anything with long hair and nice legs!"
"Oh yeah?" he said, and was about to say something rude back when he noticed how incredibly sexy she was when she got angry. Majorly turned on, he glared down at her, arms still holding her tightly around the waist. She glared right back, hazel eyes flashing with menace. The air cackled and hummed with nervous, sultry energy, the sparks shooting between them almost visible. Spike suddenly felt the urge to kiss her, to bite at that lower lip that was slightly jutting out, and he decided to act upon it. Quick as a flash his head was lowered and his lips were on hers, demanding entrance with a fierce, almost angry passion. She resisted at first, but then her lips relaxed and she was kissing him back, with just as much intensity. It was feral and erotic, and so good, and she wished it would never stop. His lips were sensual and soft, and oh god, they were so skilled, but eventually she needed to breathe, and she pulled away panting, not a second thought to what she was doing, and who she was doing it with. Riley never even entered her hazy mind.
They didn't speak, didn't need too, but just continued to glare with ferocity. Their arms dropped, and they stood there in silence, unaware of the people surrounding them, the noise or the pulsing lights. He took one look at her swollen lips, hair tousled as she panted with exertion, and he felt a swell of pride at her disarray. He leaned forward once more, and her breath hitched in anticipation. He smirked widely, heart still thrumming wildly from the amazing kiss.
"I would be the best you would ever have, baby. But I won't give it until you ask." He whispered, and gave her one more hard kiss before he turned and stalked off, angry and shaken by the kiss. She stood there, bright eyes wide and heart pounding in the middle of the dance floor, confused and guilty. Glancing at his retreating black form once more, she touched a hand to her tingling lips before she turned and ran out herself, heart singing in love yet mind screaming at her foolishness.
*To be continued.
A/n: Please review. I love reviews, as you might already know. As I've said before, I'm a feedback slut, and I'll take it anytime, anywhere, from anyone. Any flames? Send 'em my fucking way, so I can curse and spit at you (yeah, um, right.) Gotta go for now, but hopefully I'll see y'all again soon. A million kisses, and if you want, I can flash everyone too, just for being such great readers. Bye, baby.