Author's note: Sorry it took so long to get this one written. I'm still struggling with chapter 11 to Love Me When I'm Gone, too. Writing's a bitch for me lately. Hope you all liked the last chapter… Please review. I had a skimpy Christmas; reviews would make me feel like I got presents! ::wigglez::
Chapter 7
"Oh, gods, Spike, have you ever seen such a hideous piece of furniture?" Buffy called out, trying not to attract too much attention to herself in the crowded furniture store. The salesman, however, overheard her and leveled her with a disapproving stare.
Spike came over to her side to inspect the offending coffee table. The thing was carved out of wood and made into the shape of a wagon wheel. Trying to keep a straight face, he nodded slowly. "Yes, I have."
She couldn't help herself as she giggled, "Where?"
"My best friend's living room," he chuckled softly.
They laughed for a moment as they continued to browse through furniture items. "Spike," Buffy murmured to him. "What about this table?"
He looked at the cherry wood kitchen table she currently was resting her hand on. "Not bad," he said noncommittally.
"Will you put it in your dining room?"
"If I have no other choice…"
Fixating him with a glare while she waved a salesperson over, she stuck her tongue out. "You have no other choice."
He smirked after rolling his eyes and leaned in to whisper to her, "Don't stick it out unless you plan to use it, pet."
She turned three shades of red before turning her back to him and saying abruptly to the saleswoman, "We'd like this table and a matching set of four chairs."
The woman smiled an oily smile and nodded. "Yes, it's a wonderful 'starter' table for newlyweds… You've made an excellent choice."
Hearing Spike choke on air behind her, she blanched. "No no no! You don't understand! We're not married!"
"Oh, engaged, then?"
"No!" She rubbed the bridge of her nose and plastered a fake smile to her lips. "Just. Friends." She grabbed Spike by the lapels of his leather coat and shoved him towards the front of the store. "You: give her your address for the delivery."
Smirking over his shoulder at her, after having gained his composure, he purred, "But, luv, don't you mean our address?"
Hands on hips, she smiled a deadly smile. "You know, I could quite easily stake you through the heart with one of the legs of this table. Quickly, too, I might add…"
"Going, pet. Going…" he conceded, following a rather confused saleslady.
After buying him a bed – which he had insisted be king-sized with satin sheets – and dresser set, the kitchen table, a couch and an entertainment center, Buffy had finally called the shopping to a halt. "This is fine. We're through for now. I can't handle any more exciting shopping."
He laughed. "That's rich, coming from a mallrat like you."
"Hush. Lunch time," she said, playfully smacking him on the shoulder. "How about over there?" She pointed to a Sbarro's over in the food court.
Spike rolled his eyes. "Sure. Like I haven't had enough bleedin' fast food and pizza for the last six weeks." He grabbed her by the elbow and gently pulled her in the direction of the parking lot. "C'mon. We're eating actual food in an actual soddin' restaurant."
She laughed lightly and rolled her eyes. "Okay. You win. But it has to be Chinese."
He winked.
"Wouldn't have it any other way, pet."
They were halfway to his car
when they heard an ear-piercing "Blondie Bear!"
Stopping dead in his tracks, Buffy could have sworn she saw Spike shrivel up from the inside out. She raised an eyebrow as he clasped her hand in his and turned with a fake smile to the woman that had shrieked his embarrassing nickname. "Harm! My, imagine seeing you out in the daylight, what with you being a creature of the night and all… Not enough vamp clubs in Las Vegas for you?"
The blonde dancer put a hand on her hip and flipped her hair over one shoulder in annoyance. She sneered at the leather duster he never left home without and cast a disapproving glance in Buffy's direction. "Like you're one to talk. Gods, that Sid Vicious look was so over with last year."
He raised his scarred eyebrow at her and smirked. "Funny, so were you, if memory serves."
Buffy tried to stifle the giggles she felt coming. She plastered a smile and innocent look on her face and waved at Harmony. "Hi, I'm Buffy."
Harmony raised an eyebrow and replied, "Harmony Kendall," she sniffed snobbishly, "showgirl." She gestured to the man that stood partially behind her, taking one of his arms and wrapping it around her waist. "And this is Parker."
Feeling Spike stiffen next to her, she decided to help save his pride. "Oh? Nice to meet you, Parker," she schmoozed, leaning into Spike's body and resting her head against the soft leather. She felt a sort of satisfaction in seeing Harmony's eyes narrow to slits at seeing her so close to Spike.
Spike, on the other hand, was positively puzzled silly. He was also secretly thrilled to have her so close. He only wished that Harmony and her latest boy-toy were elsewhere and Buffy would still be wrapped around him. "Parker," he said, faking contemplation. "Somehow, I thought you'd be taller."
Before the man could form a retort, Buffy furthered her acting ability by wrapping her arms around Spike's waist and saying in a suggestive tone, "William, I think it's time we got going… Don't you?"
He nodded, wondering how he was going to walk casually to his car with the now-raging erection causing discomfort within the confines of his jeans. Tilting his head in his ex's direction, he smirked. "Harm, a pleasure, as always. Parker, keep her happy, mate, or don't. It's up to you…" With a salute, and an arm around Buffy's shoulders, he resumed his walk to the car. A speechless Harmony watched them go.
As soon as they reached the car, Buffy disentangled herself from Spike's grasp and walked to the passenger side door. "Did you see the look on her face?" she giggled. "That was so worth paying the ticketed price for…"
"Yeah," he mumbled as he fished inside his duster pockets for his keys. "Thanks for the ego boost back there, luv." He hid his disappointment in her assumption that he didn't want it to be more, opening the car doors and sliding into the driver's seat.
"Oh," she gasped through her laughter as she got into the car, "not a problem. It was either that or tell her that her dress simply screamed crack whore…"
They shared heavy laughter at that and he had trouble fitting the key into the ignition through the tears of humor that streaked down his face. Finally, he was able to get the key in and turned the engine over. As they pulled out of the parking lot, their chuckles having abated, he stole a glance over at the woman seated next to him. His little trip to the Laundromat last week, due to an exceptionally vivid daydream, was something she would never find out about. He was certain that she would never speak to him again, since her feelings didn't mirror his. When she spoke again, he felt a knot in the pit of his stomach.
"You should get back into the dating scene again, Spike," she said, smiling softly. "It'd do you good. It's been a while since you and Harmony split. It's time to move on."
He grit his teeth before replying. "What if I don't want to move on?"
"Spike," she rubbed his forearm gently as he drove, noting how he tensed underneath her touch. "You can't carry a torch for a bimbo like that. She's not worth it. There are plenty of nice, caring women out there. She was never one of them. She's… plastic."
None of those women are you, he thought sullenly. "I've been with other women…"
She fought the recoil she felt at those words. He's just a friend, she reminded herself. "Yes, Spike, but in a relationship?"
"What about you?" he responded. "You haven't dated anyone yet. And you've been single just as bloody long."
Withdrawing her hand, she folded it with her other one in her lap. Staring at them, she said, "I'll go out and date again if you will. It'd be good for both of us."
As they pulled up to a stoplight, he reached over and tugged on her chin. "You really believe that?"
She thought for a moment. "Yeah. I do. In fact, that saleslady that gave you her number, remember her?"
He nodded as he began driving again when the light turned green. "Yeah, Cordelia, wasn't it?"
She grinned as she looked out the window. "I think you should give her a call."
He sighed. The bint had been as vapid as Harmony, from what he'd observed, but he'd do it. If for no other reason than to prove to Buffy that he could, in fact, move on.
After they had lunch and he dropped her off at her apartment, Spike went home, fishing the number out of one of his pockets. Picking up the handset to the phone, he dialed the seven digits and tried not to pace nervously until the woman answered the phone. When she finally picked up, he breathed deeply.
"Hello, Cordelia?"
TBC
