TITLE: Roller Coaster
AUTHOR: Jennifer
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.
SPOILERS: Season 6 through Hell's Bells
SUMMARY: What a man does for love. Or just to stay alive. Some people
are gonna find out just what matters most, possibly.
FEEDBACK: I'd love some : )
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Takes place after Hell's Bells. There's some B/S,
T/W, and A/X in the story, but nothing too much.
IT SHOULDA BEEN VEGAS
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
What the fuck is up with her?
Okay, so maybe it was his fault, but he tried, didn't he? Wasn't that enough?
Didn't she understand that what she was asking for him to do was impossible?
And now she was ignoring him. Bitch.
"C'mon, talk to me, baby-"
Where does she get off by being angry with him? Bitch.
"Let me make it up to you, huh?"
Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. She thinks she can ignore him? I'll show her – make it
up by showing her my back.
"Please, I'll do anything?"
Wuss.
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
SUNNYDALE, CALIFORNIA – SUMMERS RESIDENCE
9:56 AM SATURDAY
"No." Short. Stern. Ends with a period.
"No?"
She can't help but let out irritated eye-roll number 15. He jus had to
question her about everything.
"Yes."
"'Yes', as in 'no'?"
"Yes." Wait…must he make it more confusing?
"'Yes' as in 'yes' to 'no'? Or 'Yes" as in a yes 'yes'?"
Huh? There's a pause and she blinks.
"The former." Short. Still stern. Keep the train rolling.
"Why not?"
Stupid vampire pout. Aggravated sigh number 5 escapes her lips. Couldn't he
just understand?
"Why not? Look, do you really, honestly think that I will –" Pause.
Stupid100-something-year old. "No." Uh-oh. Too long. Too long. Wasn't as short.
Wasn't as stern –
"Buffy…" his voice adopts that sexy purr and his hands find themselves around
on her arms. Stupid Spike hands. Don't they know they're supposed to around
my waist? No, wait. That wasn't right. But then again, her brain stopped
functioning once he got into touching distance. Stupid brain.
She hears the mewling sounds before she registers that it is she the sounds are
generating from. And, achg, by the way, it's lips! It's lips on her
lips! Lips of Spike! And before she could stop it, her body reacts, her arms
betraying her by wrapping around his neck. Her teeth clamps on his tongue in
revenge towards her stubborn hands running through his hair. But that only
seemed to turn.him.on. So, now, she's slammed against the wall by horny
vampire, judging by the hardness against her abdomen, very horny.
A soft sigh escapes her as she breathes in his scent. The smell of pure male
Spike tingling her senses with hints of tobacco, leather, alcohol,
and…chocolate? Small smile spread across her face, she gently pulls back and
rests her forehead against the crook of his neck, images of Big Bad vampire
sipping hot chocolate. Hee. That's just cute. She feels his cool fingers
playing with her hair and she inwardly shivers. Mmm, chocolate Spike. . .
His chest vibrates as he laughs. Did she say that out loud? Her brain functions
shut again as his hands slowly flutter up and down her body.
And he continues to laugh and she opens her eyes and wakes up in her room,
surrounded by her fluffy comforter.
A dream…?
"Have you heard from Anya?"
"Not yet."
"Do you think she's alright?"
"What about Xander?"
"She was left at the alter, I don't think she's feeling too swell right about now."
"No Xander, either."
Four pairs of eyes turn toward the phone when it rings. And rings. And rings…
"Tara, you get it."
"Me? But- What…Buffy, you get it."
"Huh? Willow should get it – You were the best man. I wouldn't know what to say."
"But what if it's Xander. What - I –" And rings. "You should answer."
"Tara."
"Buffy."
"Willow."
"Dawn."
The answering machine beeps and a male's voice comes through the speaker.
"Hi! This is Mark from Tokan Corporation. Would you like to…."
Willow presses the stop button and the telemarketer's message is cut off and silence reins the space. The youngest pipes up hopeful assurance with a nervous smile.
"Maybe Anya and Xander met up and decided to elope and they got married in Las Vegas by an Elvis? And now they're just waiting for the right time to come back and break the wonderful news?"
The three older women return small smiles. Perhaps the fifteen year old is right.