OK, this might be a little confusing. The song for this chapter is 'Angel' in a centerfold( it was a choice of that or Honey, what you do for money by AC/DC but I thought this one was more befitting) but the song she is dancing to is Zero. So I am going to be using both sets of lyrics in the song. To really set the mood you need to 'hear' the song she's dancing to. To try to avoid as much confusion as possible, I've devised a plan. The lyrics will be identified like so, 'zero lyrics'……angel in a centerfold lyrics. Got it, good!!! Thank you to all that have reviewed. It makes me all happy and stuff.

Credits for Angel is a centerfold go to The J Geils Band.

Credits for Zero go to The Smashing Pumpkins.

Does she walk?

Does she talk?

Does she come complete?

My homeroom homeroom angel always pulled me from my seat

She was pure like snowflakes, no one could ever stain

The memory of my angel could never cause me pain

Years go by, I'm looking through a girlie magazine

And there's my homeroom angel on the pages in between

My blood runs cold, my memory has just been sold

My angel is a centerfold

Angel is a centerfold

If one could picture for a moment a set of metal gears. The overly done fiberglass ones made up to look like metal that you would normally see in a commercial or b-movie. Accompanied by the commercial style overly theatrical steam. Yes, those are the ones! Well picture those gears, turning in perfect unison. Flawless movement. Got it? Good. Now if one can picture those gears grinding to a screeching halt. The sound of squealing brakes, metal clanking and crunching can be heard as the gears slowly seize and twist. Lastly, picture that steam or smoke what have you. Picture it billow out of the gears and fill the scene that's currently playing in your head as said gears finally come to a complete stop. Watch as it fills the image until all that you see is the steam/smoke. That my friends is a birds eye view into the mechanizations of Spike Spiegel's brain. More specifically, his brain while currently standing in front of the stage. To take it one step further, in front of that stage, while looking at the half naked dancer and trying to believe that this is all just a bad dream. At any moment he'd wake up and curse the after effects of alcohol. But it wasn't a dream, was it? No Spike, it wasn't. It was real.

Slipping notes under the desk

While I was thinking about her dress

I was shy, I turned away, before she caught my eye

I was shakin' in my shoes whenever she flashed those baby blues

Something had a hold on me when angel passed close by

Those soft and fuzzy sweaters, too magical to touch

To see her in that negligee is really just too much

My blood runs cold, my memory has just been sold

My angel is a centerfold

My blood runs cold, my memory has just been sold

My angel is a centerfold

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'My reflection, dirty mirror

There's no connection to myself'

So real that he was completely frozen. He couldn't move or speak. Blinking wasn't even an option at the moment. Spike suddenly had tunnel vision. All that he could see was the swaying , enticing and unmistakable form of the dancer. Her wavy blonde locks, hypnotizing eyes and mischievous grin. Slender legs and arms. Hands that he had seen so many times that he had lost count were slowly removing piece after piece of her skimpy clothing. All while hanging upside down on that cursed brass pole. Ever so slowly her body would slide down towards the floor a little bit more. Delicate fingers undoing zippers and snaps. The loud music blaring in the background as hordes of men slipped money into her thigh high red leather boots. Everything not in his peripheral vision was simply a blur. Sort of like the view in hyperspace. He could hear just fine, he just couldn't talk or move. Spike resembled a true statue to manliness. Typical Cro-Magnon stance, confused but attentive stare, head tilted slightly to the side, cigarette dangling between the index and middle finger in his right hand and a drink in his left. It was a sight to see indeed.

' I'm your lover, I'm your zero

I'm the face in your dreams of glass'

But he wasn't concerned about his appearance. He was concerned about the girl shaking her perfect tits in front of him. It appeared that she hadn't noticed Spike in the crowd yet. Maybe if she had she would have stopped? Maybe she would have been embarrassed or ashamed of herself to have him see her like this. After all, if you've been separated from someone for as long as they had wouldn't you be? Would you feel disappointed if you were in Spike's shoes? Well, if you had feet big enough to fit in them. If you were the dancer, would you feel sorry for shattering the image that you once were to the stunned man with poofy green hair doing his best Forrest Gump impersonation in front of you for several thousand woolongs a dance? If you saw him in front of you anyway. Right now if Spike could think, he probably would be thinking ' what the fuck!!!!'. But Spike couldn't think. He couldn't do anything but watch the show along with everyone else.

'So save your prayers

For when you're really gonna need 'em

Throw out your cares and fly'

He just stood, mouth agape, as she took off her red leather thong with a sexual flourish and tossed it into the crowd. It sailed through the sea of hands and conveniently landed on Spike's head. He watched her erotically pause as she made it to the half way mark on the pole. Now fully undressed, the beauty before him began to ever so slowly twirl upside down around the pole counter clock wise. With all of the grace and form of a prima ballerina. The choice of music only fueled the fire that she was creating for her audience. If it hadn't been her then it would have been pure art. But it wasn't art, it was heartbreaking. Maybe that's why Spike was frozen in place with a red thong on his head. His heart did feel extremely heavy at the moment. Wouldn't yours? But he wasn't able to think about that at the present time. Those musings and ponderings would return to him much later on. Much later.

The pumped up crowd began to move closer to the stage. But Spike held his ground. He was almost knocked over as two large men pushed by him, crushing his forgotten cigarette in the process and knocking it's charred remains to the floor. The green haired man wasn't paying any attention to it anyway. Even if it had survived the collision and burned all the way down to his fingers, he wouldn't have noticed. A gun shot to his groin would have gone unnoticed at this particular point in time. That's how fucked up this whole thing had him. So needless to say he couldn't move a finger when the dancer stopped her spinning and poised herself , still upside down mind you, on the pole and held her position in expectation of the next verse of the song.

'Wanna go for a ride?'

On cue, still keeping her grip on the pole, she opened her legs wide for the whole club to observe, subsequently causing Spike to drop his drink. Scratch that whole frozen in place thing, a part of Spike's anatomy was still in functioning order and it wasn't the hand that was holding the drink either. Hey, he was a man, what else could he do? He couldn't do anything. That was the whole problem. The lanky cowboy couldn't move an inch as his precious bounty slipped crisp bills into her boot, agitating him to no end. He couldn't utter a word of protest as she pulled a gun out of the other boot and placed it against the side of Greg's head. As everyone else proceeded to move away from the stage, Spike unwillingly held his ground. Even though he wanted more than anything to rip the red undergarment off of his head, run up to the stage and punch the bounty out, grab the blonde vixen off of the stage and drag them both out into the parking lot. To yell at her until his voice left him about what she was doing and make her put her clothes on. He wanted to know where the hell has she been all this fucking time. Tons of questions and accusations flitted through his dazed mind. Unfortunately it was completely out of his hands.

'She's the one for me

She's all I really need

Cause she's the one for me'

Nothing could be done as the dancer grabbed the bearded man's collar, with her gun still pressed firmly against his temple and dragged him off of the stage amidst the frenzy of people trying to escape the building. She then shot three of the advancing bouncers in a matter of seconds. Her nimble but yet strong form still approaching the door with the bounty in tow as the last two bouncers from outside of the main doors rushed into the building only to be shot before even getting within five feet of her. Not killing any of them, just wounding them enough to let her escape. She was still as accurate as ever and still wanted every man she had shot to know that they were debilitated by a woman about half their size. That's one of the things that Spike always had admired about her. Too bad she was using her amazing abilities to steal his bounty, although he still couldn't figure out why.

Just as important was the fact that if he didn't get his ass in gear then maybe she would disappear from his life again. Maybe forever. But his body still wasn't cooperating. He could only listen, eyes still locked onto the now empty stage, to screams of the other dancers as they ran around like chickens with their heads cut off. The music had now stopped and drunk men were stealing bottles of liquor. Fights had broken out in just about every square foot of the place since the incapacitation of the bouncers. It was total chaos. More gunshots could be heard out in the parking lot. Whether it was bouncer back up or rival bounty hunters, Spike didn't know. He only knew that he needed to move. Too bad he couldn't.

**************************************************************************************

Now listen:

It's okay, I understand

This ain't no never-never land

I hope that when this fish is gone

I'll see you when your clothes are on

Take your car, yes we will,

We'll take your car and drive it

Take it to a motel room and take 'em off in private

It finally took a large blow to the left side of his head to snap Spike from his trance. Blunt trauma to the cranium was always good like that. It was kind of like hitting his reset switch or something. Even though the punch wasn't intentionally aimed at him, his first action since dropping his drink and getting a temporary chubby was to reciprocate and give the man next to him an even harder punch to the face. Once the man dropped to the ground, he knocked out the man on his other side that the initial swing was meant for. Spike was never really one to choose sides. Once his brain had had time to properly reboot and after regaining his ability to move, he then made his way to the doors. Punching, kicking and shoving anyone who got in his way in the process. Spike could just make out the exit when some one tripped him. The tall bounty hunter landed flat on his face. As he lifted his head, he could feel the warm blood starting to exit his left nostril. "Fuck!", was the only thing to leave his mouth. Scrambling to his feet, the disheveled cowboy pushed his body the remaining three feet to the open door and headed into the parking lot. After a quick and panicked glance showed no sign of the formerly MIA blonde dancer that had been plaguing his dreams and thoughts since her disappearance or the bounty, Spike hurriedly turned and headed towards the spot where he had left his gun.

Only when he got there, there was no gun. No beat up car either. Only a small puddle of what looked like oil. Feeling as though the whole world had just come crashing down on him, Spike let his body lead him on auto pilot through the demolition derby that was once the parking lot. Walking back past the mirrored doors of the club, Spike noticed that the red thong had survived the ruckus and was still lodged in his unruly green hair. Quickly pulling it out, he shoved it into his coat pocket. An exasperated sigh could be heard coming from him as he fully exited the parking lot, avoiding the police that were now on the scene. He had lost the bounty and had lost her, again. Not to mention his gun. "Fuck off!", escaped his lips as everything hit him at once. But even after all that had transpired just minutes ago, a small smile started to spread across his face. As the seconds flew by, the smile began to morph into a devilish smirk. Trudging through the city on his way to the parking garage that housed his ship, Spike realized that she couldn't go very far. She had to turn the bounty in on Earth. He could catch up to her. Then he would get some answers. ' And she'll get the surprise of her life', he mused to himself as he broke into a jog down the street.

A part off me has just been wrecked

The pages from my mind are stripped

Oh no I can't deny it

Oh yeah, I guess I got to buy it

My blood runs cold, my memory has just been sold

My angel is a center fold

My blood runs cold, my memory has just been sold

My angel is a centerfold

Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah

Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah

I hope that it wasn't too confusing. I tried to keep the lyrics separate.

Next chapter I will have them reunite. I promise!!!!!!

This chapter is dedicated to Blooknaburg, whom I was chatting with while writing most of it. Parts of our conversation were used in it. Or should I say, ideas that sprang from our conversation. That and I paid homage to her story Life in general after the fall with the thong stuck in Spike's hair. Although in her story it's not a thong . Read it and find out what it is. There, now that I've given my props, I'm off to write the next chapter.

Will Spike be happy or upset when he finally catches up to his Angel in a centerfold? Mmmmm…….