THE COP, THE CUTIE AND THE CRIMINAL: by Spuffette. Rating: NC-17.
First, let me post my disclaimer right away that none of these characters
belong to me. They belong to Joss Whedon and Mutent Enemy, solely. Next,
please bear with me, as this is totally a "work in process" and my first
one to boot, so please remember that I'm a novice, kay? I'm starting out
with a PG-13 rating but that will eventually is altered to at least an R,
possibly NC-17. This is a quick summary, and I'm real bad explaining
things, so.Basically this is a story about Buffy Summers and takes place in
the year 1927, not 2002. The setting is Chicago, Ill., not our beloved
Sunnydale, but the cast of characters is all here, including some new
names. Everyone in this story is human, and hopefully I've written them
with the personalities and appearance of their actual BTVS characters.
This will eventually be a B/S pairing, but I must warn the weak of heart,
it is a B/X pairing at the start. However, in reverence of my beloved
Spuffys, any B/X "loving" will be non-graphic. Please read it and enjoy as
I am really enjoying writing it.
Chapter 1: BGM or Buffy the Gun Moll!?
Elizabeth 'Buffy' Summers stared critically into the vanity mirror while she practiced perfecting her cigarette smoke rings, blowing the gray smoke from her ruby red lips. She frowned slightly as she sized her face makeup in the mirror. If she did not settle down and relax more, get more rest; she would lose her looks faster here then she would have stayed back home on the farm in Iowa. That was quite a sobering thought! If she had stayed and married Riley, the neighboring farm boy, like she was slated to, she would have "aged" quickly due to hard labor, too many pregnancies and the dry "weathering" air of the Iowan countryside.
As it was, this life of hers in Chicago was "wearing" enough and it showed in her tired hazel/green eyes. Even the new makeup was not doing the trick in refreshing Buffy's face and she realized that more rest and quiet time was definitely in order. But in all fairness to herself, and Buffy loved being "fair" to herself, she had no idea she'd end up working as a Hostess in one of the poshest clubs in Chicago. No, when she ran off leaving behind farm life and poor Riley, practically at the altar, two years before, she had no inkling that she'd find a job here in the Baja Room or that she'd end up in a romance with the owner, Alexander 'Xander' Harris. Night life in Chicago was hectic enough, but throw in keeping Xander "happy" and in line and you got mayhem. Now, at 21 years of age (she sometimes felt middle aged), Buffy had lost that fresh, pretty look she had at home, it had been replaced by a more "seasoned", worldly beauty, polished by "high living", late hours and to be honest, worry. Xander Harris had other business interests besides this Club, darker even more illegal interests, and try as she might, Buffy could push her conscience away and bury the guilt feelings so much. Part of her was still Elizabeth 'Lizzy' Summers, farm girl and she knew big trouble would eventually catch up to her boyfriend and naturally to her.
"Who am I kidding?" she questioned herself, "I can thank my lucky stars for a job like this and Xander!" She'd only been in town two nights when she meekly walked into the back entrance of the Baja and inquired about work. Fortunately, the owner, Xander was present that night and told the Manager and Head Bartdender, Rupert Giles, to hire her on the spot. Mr. Harris felt that the place could use even more class and immediately noted that the little blonde would be the ticket. He must have noted something else, also, but he didn't voice that to anyone else at the time. Buffy had hit is off right away with Rupert Giles, even though they were worlds apart in personality and personal history. The sophisticated Englishman taught Buffy everything about "proper" hostessing and some bookkeeping to boot. Alexander Harris took it upon himself to "teach" Buffy some things himself and now, two years and a lot of mileage later, Buffy and Xander were still "paired" and Buffy had transformed into a knowledgeable "lady" who had also become Rupert's right hand woman in the Club and his good friend. As she pulled herself out of her reverie and back to the moment at hand, Buffy wondered for the hundredth time, where the heck she'd come up with that darn nickname of hers anyway? Wasn't that the name of Riley's tabby cat? "Well Buffy, old girl", she giggled, "you haven't done bad, you've got a great job, a great rich boyfriend, you know some really good people and you're pretty independent! Not bad for a girl from Iowa in 1927!" Looking back in the mirror she smiled and decided to forget about the tiredness in her eyes and the illegal activities going on the Club. She also decided not to think about Xander, who was in New York on "business" and what that "business" actually entailed. Instead she blotted her red lipstick, stubbed out her cigarette and rose to search out her favorite bartender who should at this very moment be in the main bar. She caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror just inside the bar door. Although only 5'3" tall, the majority of her height consisted of her long, shapely legs, the red beaded dress she wore had a slit up the side to her thigh and showed them off quite nicely, thank you. She knew she was built well, with breasts that were unusually large for such a small frame as hers and here, too, the red dress clung seductively to them. The four- inch stiletto heels finished off the overall ensemble and Buffy, as usual, was quite pleased with her appearance.
"Hey, Buffy honey!" came the familiar, melodic female voice she had come to know and love. She glanced up at the owner, Anya, sitting prettily, on a high barstool, sipping what appeared to be a Coke and wearing the grin of a loon. Anya was leaning over the bar, whispering conspiratorially to Rupert Giles and patting his right arm, possessively. Rupert, to his credit, absently wiped the bar with his other hand and tried hard not to peer down the front of Anya's low cut silver dress. It didn't look like he was being very successful and he'd sheepishly smile and blush at the same time. Again, Buffy wondered why men were so blind to women, like they were, how much more obvious could Anya be, even for Rupert! It was funny, as attractive and well put together as Anya was, you'd think that she, Buffy, would feel threatened over Xander. But, no, Xander loved Buffy, she knew that, and besides, Anya, this lovely singer, with the warm and funny personality was absolutely loopy over Rupert Giles! "Wonder if he'll ever catch on?" thought Buffy, "they're perfect for each other!" Buffy really loved both Rupert and Anya and she wanted them to be happy, preferably together. She knew in her heart that Mr. Giles could give stability, happiness and direction to Anya and she could bring sweetness, fun and companionship to his rather lonely life.
When Buffy got to the bar, she noticed that Rupert had removed his glasses and began cleaning them intently, "Oh, oh," she grimaced, "this can't be good, okay, Rupert, spill it," she crossed her arms and looked at him seriously. "Well, Miss Buffy" always with the Miss, he quietly began "I'm afraid Mr. Harris might have a bit of a problem, here and." at that precise moment Anya broke in "Honey, your man could end up in a world of hurt! Rupert, here, just told me all about this Scottish cop that's gunning for our boss!" "Please Miss Anya," Rupert interrupted, glaring at her like a parent would an unruly child, "let me explain to Miss Buffy. As I was saying," he went on "it seems that the Chicago Police department, by way of the Mayor has decided to crack down on Clubs like this in general this and." he hesitated and went back to rubbing his spectacles, "Mr. Harris in particular." "And, evidently" he continued, "they have commissioned the assistance of a young Englishman, a Lieutenant Saunders, from Scotland "Yard", not the country", he finished by staring sternly at Anya,. After she batted her eyes and shrugged at him she piped in to Buffy again, " Mr. Giles tried to warn your honey before he went to New York, but he just brushed him off like it was a joke or something!" Giles gritted his teeth, but smiled patiently at Anya, "Yes, Miss Buffy, he rather took it lightly and then left. He does like the jokes, you know? But I'm worried, I don't believe this is any laughing matter and I have done some research on this young man they're bringing here. I believe he's a force to be reckoned with, and no fool."
Hmmm, thought Buffy, "okay, Rupert let's hear it" she sat down and looked directly at her dear friend and prepared herself for even more bad news. "Well Miss Buffy, as you know my I have a brother who teaches History at the University and I took it upon myself to wire him and have him gather some information on this Lt. William Saunders. Ah, well, James, my brother teaches Egyptology at Oxford, and evidently, this young man spent two terms there before leaving to join the police force in Scotland Yard." Anya nearly bounced off her seat in excitement as she cried out "Egypt?! Like those mummy things and Cleopatra!?" Poor Rupert sighed and looked affectionately at the singer, somewhat like a Father who truly loved his child, but wished he'd thought to use a contraceptive that time, "Well, he teaches many things about the Land of the Pharaohs, Anya, dear, he specializes in the Great Ramses 2. Apparently, our Lt. Studied English Literature at Oxford, but chose to leave to pursue law enforcement at quite a young age. He could not be 28 years of age, but he has earned quite the name and much respect from his superiors at the Yard. He appears to be forthright, fairly honest, devoted to his profession, good looking and a bachelor." At this, Anya jumped up excitedly "I bet, he's a homosexual," she cried triumphantly, "almost 30, English, not married? Homosexual!" "Miss Anya," Giles sighed with exaggeration, "Might I remind you, I'm English, well over 30 and a bachelor, and I assure, you, I am not a homosexual." Anya shrugged and went back to sipping her Coke and inspecting her nail polish for chips. "No coward, either," Giles seemed to be talking to himself, "not if his nickname means anything. Seems he got himself backed into a corner a while back, down at some Railroad tracks. Had to defend himself with a railroad spike, killed the hoodlum with hit. Hence the name." "And his nickname would be Train? Caboose?" Buffy asked sarcastically. "No, Miss Buffy, Spike." "Spike?" she laughed, "Spike's a dog's name isn't it?!" Giles shot her a disapproving look and Buffy shut her mouth quickly and began to think. She frowned, remembering all last week and how her "sixth sense" had been working full throttle. Her Granny had always claimed that Buffy had inherited the "sense" from her and it was true, she could "feel" a storm coming from a hundred miles away on the farm. All last week the "sense" kept telling Buffy not to accompany Xander to New York, that something "big" was coming, something that was going to alter their lives forever. "I'll talk to Xander about this, tonight when he phones from New York, Rupert, I'll get him to listen and explain how serious this could be, okay?" "Whatever you think is best, Miss Buffy" he answered "You know Mr. Harris better than I." At that Buffy stopped walking off and turned to look at the serious man behind the bar "I do?" she asked and went off to find Willow, there was something she needed to discuss with her. {End of Chapter 1}
Wow! Sorry that was so long of a chapter, kids! I'll try to keep them shorter from now on. I tend to get carried away while writing!
Chapter 2: Willow Loves Daniel!
Buffy strode into the office area in the back of the club and found Willow sitting on the small but capable lap of Daniel Osbourne, the Club's piano player. Willow giggled and squirmed as she nuzzled Daniel's neck and held tightly to his strong arms that embraced her. "Odd" thought Buffy, to herself "Willow is an odd little girl and a fish out of water, just like me". Maybe that's why Buffy adored both Willow and Danny so much, because something in the shy, sensitive girl had touched her right off. An old fashioned beauty, with lovely gray eyes and a quick mind, Willow was so out of place here in this Club. However, she could dance as well as the other girls in the chorus and she certainly kicked the highest! Willow was well read, bright and totally in love with her musician boyfriend. So in love, in fact, she left her home in Ohio to follow the ambitious Daniel to Chicago just to be with him. Luckily she could dance and Xander had given them both jobs, in his club. Xander could be a really great guy, loyal and good hearted and sometimes it made Buffy sad to realize she didn't really appreciate him enough, and most likely, never would. Willow and Daniel had that "it" thing going that she simply did not feel for Xander, that "chemistry".
"Maybe you two should get a room!" she chided them "and by the way, Mister" she inquired of Daniel, "when are you going to marry this girl and make an honest woman of her?" Daniel just grinned broadly as Willow giggled and stuck out her left hand for Buffy's inspection. "I don't believe it!" Buffy cried with glee as she checked the simple but pretty little diamond now adorning Willow's ring finger. As she hugged them both warmly, she promptly burst into tears. "You know, Buffy" tsked Willow " Xander would marry you tomorrow if you'd just once say yes!" Buffy's sniffles slowed and she smiled sadly at her sweet friend "No, no Willow, Xander's lifestyle doesn't agree with married life and besides, Xander and I don't have what you and Daniel have. You have chemistry, you have that sizzle, you know?" Sighing sadly, Willow scanned Buffy's hazel eyes with her serious gray ones, "Xander loves you Buffy, he does have the sizzle for you, I think the problem is, that you just don't have it for him. And, I'm really sorry about that, I love you, I want you to be happy." "I know Xander loves me, Will, but." something caught Buffy's eye, a long trail of ants marched bravely across the floor by the wall and out the office door. Buffy dashed over to them and began stomping on them, frantically! "Damn ants! I swear this place has an ant curse or something" she swore.
Buffy was soon joined by Willow who leapt from Daniel's lap and started squashing ants with a broom she had found. "Better not let Bunny see these", she cried! "Bunny has a real Phobia of ants, you know?" Buffy stopped her ant assault to look at the chorus girl questioningly, "Willow, what is a phobia?" Daniel piped up "Oh, it's just another name for "fear of". Willow got it out of one of those books she's always got her nose in!" "Well I know one thing," Willow nodded "Xander should get an aardvark and that would put and end to this darn ant problem!" Buffy was just about to ask her what the heck an aardvark was, when Rupert poked his head into the office and quietly announced "Buffy, pardon me, but that problem we discussed earlier just walked into the main room and he is being accompanied by some of his legal companions.
As Buffy turned to follow Rupert into battle, she waved briefly at Willow and Daniel who both looked very confused and quite concerned. Remembering that she had forgotten to ask Willow for help with the books after closing that night, Buffy cursed the name of the British "wonder boy" she was preparing to confront. The British cop whose very existence seemed to send warning signals to her brain and a shudder through her little body. She had not yet laid eyes on him, but she somehow knew this "force to be reckoned with" was going to turn her and Xander's world upside down and more than likely would become a constant pain in her "long, lovely neck!" {End Chapter 2}
See, that was shorter and I dedicated the title of that chapter to Willow and Daniel, just because I love them both so much, just like Buffy. The next chapters will move up to an "R" rating, mostly because of naughty language, but then again how do you write about our fave British Bad Boy, without an "R" rating? Enjoy.
Chapter 3: Sleepless in Chicago? Although she had been dead almost eight years now, the memory of Joyce Summers, Buffy's mother still surfaced sporadically in her mind. That was exactly whom Buffy was thinking of this very moment as she stared into the face and steely blue eyes of Lt. Saunders, formerly of London, England. This man, who by the way, was every inch a man, even though he was just inches taller than Buffy and slight of build, reminded her of the paintings in the Art book her mama would take out and show her from time to time. From the chiseled features on his lovely face to the neck and then down to the waist he looked every inch the picture of an athlete. Covered as he was in the usual double-breasted suit, he still reminded Buffy of those lean boxers at the matches Xander had taken her to. She wondered, albeit briefly, if he indeed looked as good as those paintings underneath the clothes and Fedora that perched back, just slightly on his sandy brown hair. The memory of her mother brought quick but painful remorse to her, her mother would never have understood this place or Xander Harris. "Heaven's" she thought, "this is a guy, not a God! Find your voice Buffy girl!"
While Buffy, stood, voicelessly sizing up the enemy, it seemed that the young police Lieutenant did exactly the same thing. He appeared to be as confused and impotent to speak or do anything for that matter, but size up Buffy, and, although he seemed to appreciate what he saw, Buffy began to feel nervous and unsure, and she did not like that one bit. "Is that a smirk?" she asked herself incredulously. "And what's with the scar on the left eyebrow?" She decided that this smirky little bastard had probably either seen too much bar room brawls or more likely had looked at the wrong person that way and the scar was his reminder!
Finally she found her voice and blurted out "Buffy Summers!" as she reached out and went to shake the annoying one's hand. She noted, with silent pleasure that the offending man gave her a look of shock and stuck out his left hand in confusion. He seemed disorientated and a bit nervous himself, but that quickly returned to shock when what happened next, surprised them both. When their hand met, they both were jolted by that slight electric shock you get by walking across a carpet or rug in dry weather. The one where you touch something or someone and a little bolt of electricity jets through you. Embarrassed by the mutual "shock", Buffy forgot that the Baja Room had all wooden or tile floors. There was no carpeting or rugs strewn about on the floor, so there should not have been "static"! Lieutenant Saunders, who finally regained his composure and his voice, glanced down and remembered to release Buffy's hand that he still clutched firmly. "Miss Summers," he began nervously, "I understand you are employed in a somewhat managerial position here?" And then, "Is Mr. Alexander Harris here?" "No," she managed to blurt out, "he's away on business, can I help you?" Why was he grinning like that, she wondered, the damn smirky little jerk! It was probably the sneer that Buffy blessed on the Lt. that gave him back his confidence and his slight edge. "Well, Miss Summers" he looked right into her eyes and grinned, again, "I have a court order to close this operation for business, starting now, and in effect until Friday, at least." He finished almost smugly and never took his eyes off of her as he handed the paper into her fragile looking hands. "Ooooo," she thought, "this cocky little bastard does not know whom he's playing with!" She glanced at the paper, handed it to Giles behind her and turned an acrid look back on the politely smiling man in front of her. "It's all in order, Miss Buffy" Giles sighed, "we must cease and desist all activity for three days, at the least or face penalties."
"Oh, fine" she grimaced as she turned around and began stalking off into the office, "Goodnight Lt., goodnight gentlemen!" She hoped damned idiot hadn't heard the anger and annoyance in her voice as she dismissed everyone around her abruptly. She stopped in her tracks, but would not turn around when she heard that damn grating accent pipe up, "Oh, Miss Summers pleased to meet you and please make sure your, hem, employer receives that!" Buffy never looked back, but waved off the policemen and stormed off out of sight. She didn't have to look back, she knew exactly how he was looking at her, his sardonic stare had burned right through her dress.
William 'Spike' Saunders turned down the radio and poured himself another shot of whiskey in the little glass the hotel provided. He'd been drinking and pacing since 1:00 AM, since he got home and it was now 4:00 AM and it didn't look like he was going to bed any time too soon. Home was the hotel the Chicago department had put him up in while he was living in this God forsaken city doing this ridiculous job. Bed sounded good to Spike, but he knew it would be futile because even if he slept, he knew the little honey blonde "mistress" of his prey, Alexander Harris, would invade his dreams just like she'd invaded his every thought since last night. What had that been about? Never before had he been so bloody nervous or unsure of his "duty". He'd swaggered in that club in his usual baileys way, back up in tow, everything nice and simple, then she walked in. "Fuck!" he cursed, the fag in his hand had burnt down and singed his fingers. "Oh this bloody hilarious, I can't even think straight!" The little twit had looked at him, first thing, with those doe eyes and wham, he'd never felt anything like this, not ever! Forget the fact that she had a body of a Goddess, hair like honey and those damn eyes, the color of the sea! When they'd shake hands, and what "lady" reached out to shake a man's hand first! Why couldn't he speak? And for the love of God what was the "shock" he had when they touched, at that he smirked to himself, she'd felt it too he knew that much. "Oh" he groaned, "I'm like a bloody school boy who's never had any!" She was a woman, he'd had too many women to think this one was that special. But, he knew she was, she was special in so many ways. Not just because she was the mistress of the man he was supposed to bring down, but when he looked into her eyes the first time he saw hope in them, not only hope for her, but hope for himself as well. As if the very reason he'd been brought here was to find her and "save" her? "Oh, Christ" he grumbled, taking a rather large slug of his whiskey, "now I'm a bloody poet!" He looked ruefully at the bar in his room, the one stocked full of various illegal booze provided by Chicago's finest. Although he took his job seriously, he was from England, and was used to drinking every night. Sargent Hope had furnished him with whiskey and beer, enough to keep him happy for months. "Fuck!" He cursed again, "Probably be months before I'm out of here and back home!" He would never drink in public here in the States, no, but he knew he be drinking privately every chance he got and that disturbed him, somewhat. It wasn't enough that he was here in a place that didn't want him, but now he knew he would never shake the vision of the beautiful Buffy Summers, the woman whose boyfriend he had to ruin. The woman who shared a bed with his arch nemessiss.
Finally, he crawled into bed and turned the little night light off next to it. He closed his eyes and wondered about the little blonde with odd name. "What the hell kind of name is Buffy?" He wondered. Sounded like a cat's name or something. Although dawn was showing outside and he was exhausted, he couldn't get her to go away in his mind and he thought of his Dad and Mum back home and wondered what the hell they would think of their oldest son, now? Ironic, his Dad owned and ran a pub in Bath, his home town, and here he was on a crusade, thousands of miles away, against the very thing that fed him and his six brothers and sisters all of their life. "Ironic, that's me!" he grumbled as he punched the pillow and tried to sleep. It turned out to be quite futile. {End of Chapter 3}
Sorry, another long one, but I couldn't resist. I hope you like this so far. If not, post and let me know, and I will discontinue the story. I plan to make it a long one, so if it's not "your cup of tea" just let me know and I'll pour it down the sink! Thanks! Luv, Spuffette! You know, I forgot to mention that the POV's in this story would be changing at random throughout. They will alter from Buffy to Spike at any time. Since it's their story, basically I wanted to do that. Also, I neglected to mention that although this is romance there may be angst also, it just couldn't Be about Buffy if there wasn't, right?
Chapter 4: To, Sleep Perhaps to Dream. Across town, in her small but cozy apartment, Buffy was not fairing any better than the sandy haired policeman who had invaded her life the night before. She had tried to sleep since midnight, but was finding it a futile endeavor. "Dammit!" she cried as she punched the fluffy pillow as hard as she could and tried to get comfortable. When had she started swearing so much? Her mother would cringe if she could see her now, "don't think of Mom, Buffy," she warned herself, "think of Xander!" Brightening at this she began to doze off, finally, thinking of the good- natured man with the dark hair and eyes. Unfortunately as her dreams began, Xander's eyes turned icy blue and his hair almost blonde. Startled out of sleep, Buffy groaned and clutched her stuffed toy; a pig named Mr. Gordo, closer to her.
"Damned Englishman!" she hissed at the pig, which remained unmoved as ever. "Who the heck does he think he is? He's not "that" good looking!" This thought gave her an idea! She would close her eyes, relax and count off, out loud, all of the obvious faults of this most recent annoyance in her life. "Okay," she sighed, here goes, "1. He's too short and too small. 2. He's way too smirky and has a smart mouth! 3. He obviously has an enormous ego and is way too big for his britches! 4. He's too short and too small and" oh, wait, she thought, that was a repeat fault, that wouldn't do at all. Anyway, she had no idea how big or small he was down.she moaned "Oh God, how do I know how big he is down there! Xander, Buffy, think Xander". Big, cuddly Xander, yup, that's better, good to you, funny, loyal Xander. It might have worked, but the thought of what Xander did for a living was starting to disturb her again. "Wait!" she thought, with joy "this guy is supposed to be a professional, a policeman, right? What kind of professional guy wears his hat perched back on his head!" This picture of the jerk reassured Buffy temporarily. Sure Xander wore his hat like that, but that was just Xander, only he could wear his hat like that! Not some cocky, smart mouthed foreigner, he had no right to do that! A nagging little voice invaded her thoughts, "Yeah, right, but "cocky" looks damn good with his had like that!" "Ahhhhgggg!" she groaned and glanced at Mr. Gordo, "what are you lookin' at pig?!" she cried and then tossed the mute toy across the room.
Buffy took the opportunity to survey her surroundings. She liked her apartment. It was small, but then so was she and it was very private. It was hers and hers alone, and everything in it was hers alone. Decorated in pastels is gave off a sense of warm comfort, much like her little bedroom at home. Although she spent most of her time with Xander, at the Club, out, or at "his home", Buffy still liked her alone time. That and she still harbored some of the "farm girl" values, Joyce, had instilled in her. Elizabeth Summers just couldn't bring herself to openly live with her man. Somehow she'd convinced herself that having this place would show everyone she still held onto some independence and some "old-fashioned, Joyce, values." In reality, she only "stayed" here when Xander was out of town on business, and he never, ever, came here, never. The few momentos she had, Buffy strewed around her little apartment, it was safe here and alone here, and Buffy liked to be alone, sometimes. The pictures and figurines she'd brought with her from Iowa reminded her of a young girl whom once almost married a nice, "safe" neighbor and almost "settled" for the secure, quiet life.
She pulled herself out of her reminiscing, and back into the moping mood of minutes before. "Hmmmm," she thought, "Xander should be home by late tonight" when he'd phoned up earlier from New York, Buffy had filled him in and oh boy, was everyone in for it now! He'd grabbed the first train he could and that meant his mood would be sour and Buffy had decided she'd better get to the Club and forewarn everyone to stay out of their Boss' way, at least for a while! Xander was kind and jovial most of the time, but let anything interfere with his business, his girlfriend or his second love, the Baja Room, and the fireworks would fly. Especially if he drank, too. Xander could either get real fun or real nasty when he drank booze, and he liked booze. It was a crap shoot to guess which way he'd go, so Buffy wanted to prepare everyone from Rupert, Anya, the girls, the dealers, heck everybody right down to the costume seamstress, Althea, and the guys that cleaned the place.
"I have got to sleep!" she moaned for the hundredth time. I want to think clearly and look good for Xander tonight. She closed her eyes and began chanting her boyfriend's name in a mantra, "Xander, good, Xander, good, Xander, sweet, Xander, sweet," sadly for her it soon became, "Spike bad, Spike bad, Spike too short, Spike a smart ass, Spike has a beautiful full mouth, wonder how he tastes when he kissed?" Buffy's eyes shot open, again, and she screeched "ahhgggg!" It was then she decided that whatever happened, she would have to throw herself into work even more and spend even more time with Xander after he returned. That would help her not to think about that "bratty boy wonder!" "Hmph! I hope I never have to lay eyes on that annoying, pain in the ass again, as long as I live!" she grinned, "wonder if he likes me?" Sleep, for Buffy, proved to be futile. {End Chapter 4}
Well, I certainly hope those two get some shuteye eventually. Spike needs to keep up the practice on the snarkyness and Buffy certainly doesn't want to greet Xan Man with dark rings under the eyes, now does she? Xander will be making an appearance in couple of chapters from now. Although our Xander plays a "bad" guy in this little opera, I tried to be sympathetic to his character. I love Xander and just because he isn't walking the straight and narrow here, I want to keep some of his good personality traits.
Chapter 1: BGM or Buffy the Gun Moll!?
Elizabeth 'Buffy' Summers stared critically into the vanity mirror while she practiced perfecting her cigarette smoke rings, blowing the gray smoke from her ruby red lips. She frowned slightly as she sized her face makeup in the mirror. If she did not settle down and relax more, get more rest; she would lose her looks faster here then she would have stayed back home on the farm in Iowa. That was quite a sobering thought! If she had stayed and married Riley, the neighboring farm boy, like she was slated to, she would have "aged" quickly due to hard labor, too many pregnancies and the dry "weathering" air of the Iowan countryside.
As it was, this life of hers in Chicago was "wearing" enough and it showed in her tired hazel/green eyes. Even the new makeup was not doing the trick in refreshing Buffy's face and she realized that more rest and quiet time was definitely in order. But in all fairness to herself, and Buffy loved being "fair" to herself, she had no idea she'd end up working as a Hostess in one of the poshest clubs in Chicago. No, when she ran off leaving behind farm life and poor Riley, practically at the altar, two years before, she had no inkling that she'd find a job here in the Baja Room or that she'd end up in a romance with the owner, Alexander 'Xander' Harris. Night life in Chicago was hectic enough, but throw in keeping Xander "happy" and in line and you got mayhem. Now, at 21 years of age (she sometimes felt middle aged), Buffy had lost that fresh, pretty look she had at home, it had been replaced by a more "seasoned", worldly beauty, polished by "high living", late hours and to be honest, worry. Xander Harris had other business interests besides this Club, darker even more illegal interests, and try as she might, Buffy could push her conscience away and bury the guilt feelings so much. Part of her was still Elizabeth 'Lizzy' Summers, farm girl and she knew big trouble would eventually catch up to her boyfriend and naturally to her.
"Who am I kidding?" she questioned herself, "I can thank my lucky stars for a job like this and Xander!" She'd only been in town two nights when she meekly walked into the back entrance of the Baja and inquired about work. Fortunately, the owner, Xander was present that night and told the Manager and Head Bartdender, Rupert Giles, to hire her on the spot. Mr. Harris felt that the place could use even more class and immediately noted that the little blonde would be the ticket. He must have noted something else, also, but he didn't voice that to anyone else at the time. Buffy had hit is off right away with Rupert Giles, even though they were worlds apart in personality and personal history. The sophisticated Englishman taught Buffy everything about "proper" hostessing and some bookkeeping to boot. Alexander Harris took it upon himself to "teach" Buffy some things himself and now, two years and a lot of mileage later, Buffy and Xander were still "paired" and Buffy had transformed into a knowledgeable "lady" who had also become Rupert's right hand woman in the Club and his good friend. As she pulled herself out of her reverie and back to the moment at hand, Buffy wondered for the hundredth time, where the heck she'd come up with that darn nickname of hers anyway? Wasn't that the name of Riley's tabby cat? "Well Buffy, old girl", she giggled, "you haven't done bad, you've got a great job, a great rich boyfriend, you know some really good people and you're pretty independent! Not bad for a girl from Iowa in 1927!" Looking back in the mirror she smiled and decided to forget about the tiredness in her eyes and the illegal activities going on the Club. She also decided not to think about Xander, who was in New York on "business" and what that "business" actually entailed. Instead she blotted her red lipstick, stubbed out her cigarette and rose to search out her favorite bartender who should at this very moment be in the main bar. She caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror just inside the bar door. Although only 5'3" tall, the majority of her height consisted of her long, shapely legs, the red beaded dress she wore had a slit up the side to her thigh and showed them off quite nicely, thank you. She knew she was built well, with breasts that were unusually large for such a small frame as hers and here, too, the red dress clung seductively to them. The four- inch stiletto heels finished off the overall ensemble and Buffy, as usual, was quite pleased with her appearance.
"Hey, Buffy honey!" came the familiar, melodic female voice she had come to know and love. She glanced up at the owner, Anya, sitting prettily, on a high barstool, sipping what appeared to be a Coke and wearing the grin of a loon. Anya was leaning over the bar, whispering conspiratorially to Rupert Giles and patting his right arm, possessively. Rupert, to his credit, absently wiped the bar with his other hand and tried hard not to peer down the front of Anya's low cut silver dress. It didn't look like he was being very successful and he'd sheepishly smile and blush at the same time. Again, Buffy wondered why men were so blind to women, like they were, how much more obvious could Anya be, even for Rupert! It was funny, as attractive and well put together as Anya was, you'd think that she, Buffy, would feel threatened over Xander. But, no, Xander loved Buffy, she knew that, and besides, Anya, this lovely singer, with the warm and funny personality was absolutely loopy over Rupert Giles! "Wonder if he'll ever catch on?" thought Buffy, "they're perfect for each other!" Buffy really loved both Rupert and Anya and she wanted them to be happy, preferably together. She knew in her heart that Mr. Giles could give stability, happiness and direction to Anya and she could bring sweetness, fun and companionship to his rather lonely life.
When Buffy got to the bar, she noticed that Rupert had removed his glasses and began cleaning them intently, "Oh, oh," she grimaced, "this can't be good, okay, Rupert, spill it," she crossed her arms and looked at him seriously. "Well, Miss Buffy" always with the Miss, he quietly began "I'm afraid Mr. Harris might have a bit of a problem, here and." at that precise moment Anya broke in "Honey, your man could end up in a world of hurt! Rupert, here, just told me all about this Scottish cop that's gunning for our boss!" "Please Miss Anya," Rupert interrupted, glaring at her like a parent would an unruly child, "let me explain to Miss Buffy. As I was saying," he went on "it seems that the Chicago Police department, by way of the Mayor has decided to crack down on Clubs like this in general this and." he hesitated and went back to rubbing his spectacles, "Mr. Harris in particular." "And, evidently" he continued, "they have commissioned the assistance of a young Englishman, a Lieutenant Saunders, from Scotland "Yard", not the country", he finished by staring sternly at Anya,. After she batted her eyes and shrugged at him she piped in to Buffy again, " Mr. Giles tried to warn your honey before he went to New York, but he just brushed him off like it was a joke or something!" Giles gritted his teeth, but smiled patiently at Anya, "Yes, Miss Buffy, he rather took it lightly and then left. He does like the jokes, you know? But I'm worried, I don't believe this is any laughing matter and I have done some research on this young man they're bringing here. I believe he's a force to be reckoned with, and no fool."
Hmmm, thought Buffy, "okay, Rupert let's hear it" she sat down and looked directly at her dear friend and prepared herself for even more bad news. "Well Miss Buffy, as you know my I have a brother who teaches History at the University and I took it upon myself to wire him and have him gather some information on this Lt. William Saunders. Ah, well, James, my brother teaches Egyptology at Oxford, and evidently, this young man spent two terms there before leaving to join the police force in Scotland Yard." Anya nearly bounced off her seat in excitement as she cried out "Egypt?! Like those mummy things and Cleopatra!?" Poor Rupert sighed and looked affectionately at the singer, somewhat like a Father who truly loved his child, but wished he'd thought to use a contraceptive that time, "Well, he teaches many things about the Land of the Pharaohs, Anya, dear, he specializes in the Great Ramses 2. Apparently, our Lt. Studied English Literature at Oxford, but chose to leave to pursue law enforcement at quite a young age. He could not be 28 years of age, but he has earned quite the name and much respect from his superiors at the Yard. He appears to be forthright, fairly honest, devoted to his profession, good looking and a bachelor." At this, Anya jumped up excitedly "I bet, he's a homosexual," she cried triumphantly, "almost 30, English, not married? Homosexual!" "Miss Anya," Giles sighed with exaggeration, "Might I remind you, I'm English, well over 30 and a bachelor, and I assure, you, I am not a homosexual." Anya shrugged and went back to sipping her Coke and inspecting her nail polish for chips. "No coward, either," Giles seemed to be talking to himself, "not if his nickname means anything. Seems he got himself backed into a corner a while back, down at some Railroad tracks. Had to defend himself with a railroad spike, killed the hoodlum with hit. Hence the name." "And his nickname would be Train? Caboose?" Buffy asked sarcastically. "No, Miss Buffy, Spike." "Spike?" she laughed, "Spike's a dog's name isn't it?!" Giles shot her a disapproving look and Buffy shut her mouth quickly and began to think. She frowned, remembering all last week and how her "sixth sense" had been working full throttle. Her Granny had always claimed that Buffy had inherited the "sense" from her and it was true, she could "feel" a storm coming from a hundred miles away on the farm. All last week the "sense" kept telling Buffy not to accompany Xander to New York, that something "big" was coming, something that was going to alter their lives forever. "I'll talk to Xander about this, tonight when he phones from New York, Rupert, I'll get him to listen and explain how serious this could be, okay?" "Whatever you think is best, Miss Buffy" he answered "You know Mr. Harris better than I." At that Buffy stopped walking off and turned to look at the serious man behind the bar "I do?" she asked and went off to find Willow, there was something she needed to discuss with her. {End of Chapter 1}
Wow! Sorry that was so long of a chapter, kids! I'll try to keep them shorter from now on. I tend to get carried away while writing!
Chapter 2: Willow Loves Daniel!
Buffy strode into the office area in the back of the club and found Willow sitting on the small but capable lap of Daniel Osbourne, the Club's piano player. Willow giggled and squirmed as she nuzzled Daniel's neck and held tightly to his strong arms that embraced her. "Odd" thought Buffy, to herself "Willow is an odd little girl and a fish out of water, just like me". Maybe that's why Buffy adored both Willow and Danny so much, because something in the shy, sensitive girl had touched her right off. An old fashioned beauty, with lovely gray eyes and a quick mind, Willow was so out of place here in this Club. However, she could dance as well as the other girls in the chorus and she certainly kicked the highest! Willow was well read, bright and totally in love with her musician boyfriend. So in love, in fact, she left her home in Ohio to follow the ambitious Daniel to Chicago just to be with him. Luckily she could dance and Xander had given them both jobs, in his club. Xander could be a really great guy, loyal and good hearted and sometimes it made Buffy sad to realize she didn't really appreciate him enough, and most likely, never would. Willow and Daniel had that "it" thing going that she simply did not feel for Xander, that "chemistry".
"Maybe you two should get a room!" she chided them "and by the way, Mister" she inquired of Daniel, "when are you going to marry this girl and make an honest woman of her?" Daniel just grinned broadly as Willow giggled and stuck out her left hand for Buffy's inspection. "I don't believe it!" Buffy cried with glee as she checked the simple but pretty little diamond now adorning Willow's ring finger. As she hugged them both warmly, she promptly burst into tears. "You know, Buffy" tsked Willow " Xander would marry you tomorrow if you'd just once say yes!" Buffy's sniffles slowed and she smiled sadly at her sweet friend "No, no Willow, Xander's lifestyle doesn't agree with married life and besides, Xander and I don't have what you and Daniel have. You have chemistry, you have that sizzle, you know?" Sighing sadly, Willow scanned Buffy's hazel eyes with her serious gray ones, "Xander loves you Buffy, he does have the sizzle for you, I think the problem is, that you just don't have it for him. And, I'm really sorry about that, I love you, I want you to be happy." "I know Xander loves me, Will, but." something caught Buffy's eye, a long trail of ants marched bravely across the floor by the wall and out the office door. Buffy dashed over to them and began stomping on them, frantically! "Damn ants! I swear this place has an ant curse or something" she swore.
Buffy was soon joined by Willow who leapt from Daniel's lap and started squashing ants with a broom she had found. "Better not let Bunny see these", she cried! "Bunny has a real Phobia of ants, you know?" Buffy stopped her ant assault to look at the chorus girl questioningly, "Willow, what is a phobia?" Daniel piped up "Oh, it's just another name for "fear of". Willow got it out of one of those books she's always got her nose in!" "Well I know one thing," Willow nodded "Xander should get an aardvark and that would put and end to this darn ant problem!" Buffy was just about to ask her what the heck an aardvark was, when Rupert poked his head into the office and quietly announced "Buffy, pardon me, but that problem we discussed earlier just walked into the main room and he is being accompanied by some of his legal companions.
As Buffy turned to follow Rupert into battle, she waved briefly at Willow and Daniel who both looked very confused and quite concerned. Remembering that she had forgotten to ask Willow for help with the books after closing that night, Buffy cursed the name of the British "wonder boy" she was preparing to confront. The British cop whose very existence seemed to send warning signals to her brain and a shudder through her little body. She had not yet laid eyes on him, but she somehow knew this "force to be reckoned with" was going to turn her and Xander's world upside down and more than likely would become a constant pain in her "long, lovely neck!" {End Chapter 2}
See, that was shorter and I dedicated the title of that chapter to Willow and Daniel, just because I love them both so much, just like Buffy. The next chapters will move up to an "R" rating, mostly because of naughty language, but then again how do you write about our fave British Bad Boy, without an "R" rating? Enjoy.
Chapter 3: Sleepless in Chicago? Although she had been dead almost eight years now, the memory of Joyce Summers, Buffy's mother still surfaced sporadically in her mind. That was exactly whom Buffy was thinking of this very moment as she stared into the face and steely blue eyes of Lt. Saunders, formerly of London, England. This man, who by the way, was every inch a man, even though he was just inches taller than Buffy and slight of build, reminded her of the paintings in the Art book her mama would take out and show her from time to time. From the chiseled features on his lovely face to the neck and then down to the waist he looked every inch the picture of an athlete. Covered as he was in the usual double-breasted suit, he still reminded Buffy of those lean boxers at the matches Xander had taken her to. She wondered, albeit briefly, if he indeed looked as good as those paintings underneath the clothes and Fedora that perched back, just slightly on his sandy brown hair. The memory of her mother brought quick but painful remorse to her, her mother would never have understood this place or Xander Harris. "Heaven's" she thought, "this is a guy, not a God! Find your voice Buffy girl!"
While Buffy, stood, voicelessly sizing up the enemy, it seemed that the young police Lieutenant did exactly the same thing. He appeared to be as confused and impotent to speak or do anything for that matter, but size up Buffy, and, although he seemed to appreciate what he saw, Buffy began to feel nervous and unsure, and she did not like that one bit. "Is that a smirk?" she asked herself incredulously. "And what's with the scar on the left eyebrow?" She decided that this smirky little bastard had probably either seen too much bar room brawls or more likely had looked at the wrong person that way and the scar was his reminder!
Finally she found her voice and blurted out "Buffy Summers!" as she reached out and went to shake the annoying one's hand. She noted, with silent pleasure that the offending man gave her a look of shock and stuck out his left hand in confusion. He seemed disorientated and a bit nervous himself, but that quickly returned to shock when what happened next, surprised them both. When their hand met, they both were jolted by that slight electric shock you get by walking across a carpet or rug in dry weather. The one where you touch something or someone and a little bolt of electricity jets through you. Embarrassed by the mutual "shock", Buffy forgot that the Baja Room had all wooden or tile floors. There was no carpeting or rugs strewn about on the floor, so there should not have been "static"! Lieutenant Saunders, who finally regained his composure and his voice, glanced down and remembered to release Buffy's hand that he still clutched firmly. "Miss Summers," he began nervously, "I understand you are employed in a somewhat managerial position here?" And then, "Is Mr. Alexander Harris here?" "No," she managed to blurt out, "he's away on business, can I help you?" Why was he grinning like that, she wondered, the damn smirky little jerk! It was probably the sneer that Buffy blessed on the Lt. that gave him back his confidence and his slight edge. "Well, Miss Summers" he looked right into her eyes and grinned, again, "I have a court order to close this operation for business, starting now, and in effect until Friday, at least." He finished almost smugly and never took his eyes off of her as he handed the paper into her fragile looking hands. "Ooooo," she thought, "this cocky little bastard does not know whom he's playing with!" She glanced at the paper, handed it to Giles behind her and turned an acrid look back on the politely smiling man in front of her. "It's all in order, Miss Buffy" Giles sighed, "we must cease and desist all activity for three days, at the least or face penalties."
"Oh, fine" she grimaced as she turned around and began stalking off into the office, "Goodnight Lt., goodnight gentlemen!" She hoped damned idiot hadn't heard the anger and annoyance in her voice as she dismissed everyone around her abruptly. She stopped in her tracks, but would not turn around when she heard that damn grating accent pipe up, "Oh, Miss Summers pleased to meet you and please make sure your, hem, employer receives that!" Buffy never looked back, but waved off the policemen and stormed off out of sight. She didn't have to look back, she knew exactly how he was looking at her, his sardonic stare had burned right through her dress.
William 'Spike' Saunders turned down the radio and poured himself another shot of whiskey in the little glass the hotel provided. He'd been drinking and pacing since 1:00 AM, since he got home and it was now 4:00 AM and it didn't look like he was going to bed any time too soon. Home was the hotel the Chicago department had put him up in while he was living in this God forsaken city doing this ridiculous job. Bed sounded good to Spike, but he knew it would be futile because even if he slept, he knew the little honey blonde "mistress" of his prey, Alexander Harris, would invade his dreams just like she'd invaded his every thought since last night. What had that been about? Never before had he been so bloody nervous or unsure of his "duty". He'd swaggered in that club in his usual baileys way, back up in tow, everything nice and simple, then she walked in. "Fuck!" he cursed, the fag in his hand had burnt down and singed his fingers. "Oh this bloody hilarious, I can't even think straight!" The little twit had looked at him, first thing, with those doe eyes and wham, he'd never felt anything like this, not ever! Forget the fact that she had a body of a Goddess, hair like honey and those damn eyes, the color of the sea! When they'd shake hands, and what "lady" reached out to shake a man's hand first! Why couldn't he speak? And for the love of God what was the "shock" he had when they touched, at that he smirked to himself, she'd felt it too he knew that much. "Oh" he groaned, "I'm like a bloody school boy who's never had any!" She was a woman, he'd had too many women to think this one was that special. But, he knew she was, she was special in so many ways. Not just because she was the mistress of the man he was supposed to bring down, but when he looked into her eyes the first time he saw hope in them, not only hope for her, but hope for himself as well. As if the very reason he'd been brought here was to find her and "save" her? "Oh, Christ" he grumbled, taking a rather large slug of his whiskey, "now I'm a bloody poet!" He looked ruefully at the bar in his room, the one stocked full of various illegal booze provided by Chicago's finest. Although he took his job seriously, he was from England, and was used to drinking every night. Sargent Hope had furnished him with whiskey and beer, enough to keep him happy for months. "Fuck!" He cursed again, "Probably be months before I'm out of here and back home!" He would never drink in public here in the States, no, but he knew he be drinking privately every chance he got and that disturbed him, somewhat. It wasn't enough that he was here in a place that didn't want him, but now he knew he would never shake the vision of the beautiful Buffy Summers, the woman whose boyfriend he had to ruin. The woman who shared a bed with his arch nemessiss.
Finally, he crawled into bed and turned the little night light off next to it. He closed his eyes and wondered about the little blonde with odd name. "What the hell kind of name is Buffy?" He wondered. Sounded like a cat's name or something. Although dawn was showing outside and he was exhausted, he couldn't get her to go away in his mind and he thought of his Dad and Mum back home and wondered what the hell they would think of their oldest son, now? Ironic, his Dad owned and ran a pub in Bath, his home town, and here he was on a crusade, thousands of miles away, against the very thing that fed him and his six brothers and sisters all of their life. "Ironic, that's me!" he grumbled as he punched the pillow and tried to sleep. It turned out to be quite futile. {End of Chapter 3}
Sorry, another long one, but I couldn't resist. I hope you like this so far. If not, post and let me know, and I will discontinue the story. I plan to make it a long one, so if it's not "your cup of tea" just let me know and I'll pour it down the sink! Thanks! Luv, Spuffette! You know, I forgot to mention that the POV's in this story would be changing at random throughout. They will alter from Buffy to Spike at any time. Since it's their story, basically I wanted to do that. Also, I neglected to mention that although this is romance there may be angst also, it just couldn't Be about Buffy if there wasn't, right?
Chapter 4: To, Sleep Perhaps to Dream. Across town, in her small but cozy apartment, Buffy was not fairing any better than the sandy haired policeman who had invaded her life the night before. She had tried to sleep since midnight, but was finding it a futile endeavor. "Dammit!" she cried as she punched the fluffy pillow as hard as she could and tried to get comfortable. When had she started swearing so much? Her mother would cringe if she could see her now, "don't think of Mom, Buffy," she warned herself, "think of Xander!" Brightening at this she began to doze off, finally, thinking of the good- natured man with the dark hair and eyes. Unfortunately as her dreams began, Xander's eyes turned icy blue and his hair almost blonde. Startled out of sleep, Buffy groaned and clutched her stuffed toy; a pig named Mr. Gordo, closer to her.
"Damned Englishman!" she hissed at the pig, which remained unmoved as ever. "Who the heck does he think he is? He's not "that" good looking!" This thought gave her an idea! She would close her eyes, relax and count off, out loud, all of the obvious faults of this most recent annoyance in her life. "Okay," she sighed, here goes, "1. He's too short and too small. 2. He's way too smirky and has a smart mouth! 3. He obviously has an enormous ego and is way too big for his britches! 4. He's too short and too small and" oh, wait, she thought, that was a repeat fault, that wouldn't do at all. Anyway, she had no idea how big or small he was down.she moaned "Oh God, how do I know how big he is down there! Xander, Buffy, think Xander". Big, cuddly Xander, yup, that's better, good to you, funny, loyal Xander. It might have worked, but the thought of what Xander did for a living was starting to disturb her again. "Wait!" she thought, with joy "this guy is supposed to be a professional, a policeman, right? What kind of professional guy wears his hat perched back on his head!" This picture of the jerk reassured Buffy temporarily. Sure Xander wore his hat like that, but that was just Xander, only he could wear his hat like that! Not some cocky, smart mouthed foreigner, he had no right to do that! A nagging little voice invaded her thoughts, "Yeah, right, but "cocky" looks damn good with his had like that!" "Ahhhhgggg!" she groaned and glanced at Mr. Gordo, "what are you lookin' at pig?!" she cried and then tossed the mute toy across the room.
Buffy took the opportunity to survey her surroundings. She liked her apartment. It was small, but then so was she and it was very private. It was hers and hers alone, and everything in it was hers alone. Decorated in pastels is gave off a sense of warm comfort, much like her little bedroom at home. Although she spent most of her time with Xander, at the Club, out, or at "his home", Buffy still liked her alone time. That and she still harbored some of the "farm girl" values, Joyce, had instilled in her. Elizabeth Summers just couldn't bring herself to openly live with her man. Somehow she'd convinced herself that having this place would show everyone she still held onto some independence and some "old-fashioned, Joyce, values." In reality, she only "stayed" here when Xander was out of town on business, and he never, ever, came here, never. The few momentos she had, Buffy strewed around her little apartment, it was safe here and alone here, and Buffy liked to be alone, sometimes. The pictures and figurines she'd brought with her from Iowa reminded her of a young girl whom once almost married a nice, "safe" neighbor and almost "settled" for the secure, quiet life.
She pulled herself out of her reminiscing, and back into the moping mood of minutes before. "Hmmmm," she thought, "Xander should be home by late tonight" when he'd phoned up earlier from New York, Buffy had filled him in and oh boy, was everyone in for it now! He'd grabbed the first train he could and that meant his mood would be sour and Buffy had decided she'd better get to the Club and forewarn everyone to stay out of their Boss' way, at least for a while! Xander was kind and jovial most of the time, but let anything interfere with his business, his girlfriend or his second love, the Baja Room, and the fireworks would fly. Especially if he drank, too. Xander could either get real fun or real nasty when he drank booze, and he liked booze. It was a crap shoot to guess which way he'd go, so Buffy wanted to prepare everyone from Rupert, Anya, the girls, the dealers, heck everybody right down to the costume seamstress, Althea, and the guys that cleaned the place.
"I have got to sleep!" she moaned for the hundredth time. I want to think clearly and look good for Xander tonight. She closed her eyes and began chanting her boyfriend's name in a mantra, "Xander, good, Xander, good, Xander, sweet, Xander, sweet," sadly for her it soon became, "Spike bad, Spike bad, Spike too short, Spike a smart ass, Spike has a beautiful full mouth, wonder how he tastes when he kissed?" Buffy's eyes shot open, again, and she screeched "ahhgggg!" It was then she decided that whatever happened, she would have to throw herself into work even more and spend even more time with Xander after he returned. That would help her not to think about that "bratty boy wonder!" "Hmph! I hope I never have to lay eyes on that annoying, pain in the ass again, as long as I live!" she grinned, "wonder if he likes me?" Sleep, for Buffy, proved to be futile. {End Chapter 4}
Well, I certainly hope those two get some shuteye eventually. Spike needs to keep up the practice on the snarkyness and Buffy certainly doesn't want to greet Xan Man with dark rings under the eyes, now does she? Xander will be making an appearance in couple of chapters from now. Although our Xander plays a "bad" guy in this little opera, I tried to be sympathetic to his character. I love Xander and just because he isn't walking the straight and narrow here, I want to keep some of his good personality traits.
