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Chapter 16: Showers and Singing
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"You have no idea. . ." Andrea grinned devilishly as she heard Spike inhale sharply and pulled away from him, standing up next to the couch. "I'm gunna shower before we head over to The Bronze. You wanna wash up when I'm done?" He stood, trying his hardest to quickly regain his composure. The damn woman was unpredictable.
"Sure, pet." He arched an eyebrow and gave her a half-smile. "Why don't we save water and I'll join you?" She laid a hand on his cheek and gave him an amused smile.
"Keep dreaming, Spike." He watched as she strode out of the room, swaying her hips sexily. He bit back a hungry groan.
Reaching the bathroom, Andrea released a deep breath as she closed the door. She undressed and turned on the tap. She stepped under the cool spray, hoping that a cold shower would prevent her from getting too aroused at the nightclub. Being around Spike evidently had the affect of keeping her more than a little hot under the collar. All the time. She let the beads of water slid down her body, then shampooed her hair. She rinsed and ran a bar of soap over her body, trying to ignore the realization that in a short while Spike would be doing the same thing. Leaving a small trail of soapy bubbles over his taught skin. She shut the tap off and grabbed a towel off the rack as she stepped out of the shower, drying herself off. She wrapped the towel around herself and dragged a brush through her dripping blonde strands. Then she hurried into her bedroom to search for something appropriate to wear.
She spent a good ten minutes rummaging through the contents of her closet before she found something that worked. Guaranteed to make Spike squirm. . . Wait a second. Why do I care what Spike thinks of my outfit? She shook her head, shoving the irrelevant thoughts away as she slipped into red leather pants, black strappy heels and a black tube top. Her hair had begun to air dry, so she decided to leave it free to tumble down her back.
Andrea then cleaned her dirty clothes out of the bathroom and walked carefully down the stairs, determined not to break her neck in the heels. Spike turned when he heard the clunking of her heels on the stairs. His jaw dropped as he took in her clothing. She smothered a smile. "Your turn in the shower, Spike."
"Uh. . .Yeah, sure. Right." He stood up and walked quickly to her side. He let his eyes slip closed as he inhaled her scent. "What perfume are you wearing?"
"Um. . .Tommy Girl."
"I like it." He leaned closer to her, smelling the air near her neck. Then, he turned away and jogged up the stairs to shower.
* * *
The Bronze was packed tonight. Lots of kids dancing. Good band playing. Busy for a Wednesday night. Andrea and Spike seated themselves at a table. "You want anything to drink, pet?" he asked when a waiter made his way to the table.
"Sure. I'll have a scotch and water."
"Same." The waiter nodded and moved off to the bar.
"So," Andrea said to Spike. "Tell me about you."
"What'd you like to know?"
"When did you first come to Sunnydale? How did you find out that you had a chip in your head? You know, the usual."
Conversation came easily to them. They lost track of the time. As they talked, they drank. Spike, however, had a much higher tolerance for alcohol, being a vampire, and although Andrea could drink well for a twenty- one year old female, she still felt the effects of liquor faster than Spike did.
When the band decided they wanted to take a break and asked if anyone would like to come up to the stage and kareoke while they rested for a few minutes, a slightly drunk Andrea stumbled up to the stage. Spike hesitated for a moment, but in the end curiosity won out and he let her go. She selected a song at the machine and took a microphone, standing in the middle of the stage. The music began and she started to sing.
*Well he looks at me With those innocent eyes And says it looks like you're Wearing some kind of disguise Because your hair sticks up Your shoes are untied And I hope that you got That shirt at half price*
He smiled at her, recognizing the Josie and the Pussycats song. Figures she'd chose something like this, even if she was trashed. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Take it off," yelled a drunken frat boy seated at the table next to him. The man whistled when Andrea did a sexy little spin and touched the ground. Spike's fist connected with the guy's nose and the kid toppled off his stool as Spike's forehead exploded in pain. He cursed viciously and rubbed his temple in an attempt to ease the pain. He glanced up at Andrea, who winked at him suggestively and wiggled her hips to the music. He groaned and dropped his head into his palms. Why did she have to be so damn sexy when she was drunk? If it was possible, she was even more sexy than normal, but in a different way. Drunk Andrea seemed much more laid back than Sober Andrea. Her protective shield had been lowered a little with each drink she'd consumed.
*And then he falls asleep On the livingroom couch With his sunglasses on And his tongue hangin' out*
Oh, the things he could do to her with his tongue . . . No, bad. Bad Spike. Not the place for fantasies.
She'd completed another chorus and was dancing wildly to the guitar solo. He couldn't help but laugh. Forget sexy. She looked completely ridiculous.
*WHY DO YOU DO WHAT YOU DO TO ME BABY SHAKING MY CONFIDENCE DRIVING ME CRAZY YOU KNOW IF I COULD I'D DO ANYTHING FOR YOU*
Suddenly, she stopped screaming part of the chorus and quieted considerably for the next line.
*I don't mean to bore you Cuz you know I adore you*
She repeated the chorus twice, and instead of slowly fading the words out, she ended abruptly with
*Everything in my life would be alright Alright*
Cheering ensued, men whistling appreciatively and women clapping as the nodded in approval of Andrea's choice of song. She stepped off the stage and made her way back to Spike, who watched her intently from the table. As she passed the now-bleeding frat boy, he slapped her ass, causing her to jump, then erupt onto a fit of giggles. Andrea playfully slapped his shoulder. "You're a naughty boy. Go to my room." Her speech was now slightly slurred as the man laughed.
"Come on, pet. We're leaving," Spike growled, roughly grabbing hold of her upper arm and pulling her out of the club.
"You have no idea. . ." Andrea grinned devilishly as she heard Spike inhale sharply and pulled away from him, standing up next to the couch. "I'm gunna shower before we head over to The Bronze. You wanna wash up when I'm done?" He stood, trying his hardest to quickly regain his composure. The damn woman was unpredictable.
"Sure, pet." He arched an eyebrow and gave her a half-smile. "Why don't we save water and I'll join you?" She laid a hand on his cheek and gave him an amused smile.
"Keep dreaming, Spike." He watched as she strode out of the room, swaying her hips sexily. He bit back a hungry groan.
Reaching the bathroom, Andrea released a deep breath as she closed the door. She undressed and turned on the tap. She stepped under the cool spray, hoping that a cold shower would prevent her from getting too aroused at the nightclub. Being around Spike evidently had the affect of keeping her more than a little hot under the collar. All the time. She let the beads of water slid down her body, then shampooed her hair. She rinsed and ran a bar of soap over her body, trying to ignore the realization that in a short while Spike would be doing the same thing. Leaving a small trail of soapy bubbles over his taught skin. She shut the tap off and grabbed a towel off the rack as she stepped out of the shower, drying herself off. She wrapped the towel around herself and dragged a brush through her dripping blonde strands. Then she hurried into her bedroom to search for something appropriate to wear.
She spent a good ten minutes rummaging through the contents of her closet before she found something that worked. Guaranteed to make Spike squirm. . . Wait a second. Why do I care what Spike thinks of my outfit? She shook her head, shoving the irrelevant thoughts away as she slipped into red leather pants, black strappy heels and a black tube top. Her hair had begun to air dry, so she decided to leave it free to tumble down her back.
Andrea then cleaned her dirty clothes out of the bathroom and walked carefully down the stairs, determined not to break her neck in the heels. Spike turned when he heard the clunking of her heels on the stairs. His jaw dropped as he took in her clothing. She smothered a smile. "Your turn in the shower, Spike."
"Uh. . .Yeah, sure. Right." He stood up and walked quickly to her side. He let his eyes slip closed as he inhaled her scent. "What perfume are you wearing?"
"Um. . .Tommy Girl."
"I like it." He leaned closer to her, smelling the air near her neck. Then, he turned away and jogged up the stairs to shower.
* * *
The Bronze was packed tonight. Lots of kids dancing. Good band playing. Busy for a Wednesday night. Andrea and Spike seated themselves at a table. "You want anything to drink, pet?" he asked when a waiter made his way to the table.
"Sure. I'll have a scotch and water."
"Same." The waiter nodded and moved off to the bar.
"So," Andrea said to Spike. "Tell me about you."
"What'd you like to know?"
"When did you first come to Sunnydale? How did you find out that you had a chip in your head? You know, the usual."
Conversation came easily to them. They lost track of the time. As they talked, they drank. Spike, however, had a much higher tolerance for alcohol, being a vampire, and although Andrea could drink well for a twenty- one year old female, she still felt the effects of liquor faster than Spike did.
When the band decided they wanted to take a break and asked if anyone would like to come up to the stage and kareoke while they rested for a few minutes, a slightly drunk Andrea stumbled up to the stage. Spike hesitated for a moment, but in the end curiosity won out and he let her go. She selected a song at the machine and took a microphone, standing in the middle of the stage. The music began and she started to sing.
*Well he looks at me With those innocent eyes And says it looks like you're Wearing some kind of disguise Because your hair sticks up Your shoes are untied And I hope that you got That shirt at half price*
He smiled at her, recognizing the Josie and the Pussycats song. Figures she'd chose something like this, even if she was trashed. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Take it off," yelled a drunken frat boy seated at the table next to him. The man whistled when Andrea did a sexy little spin and touched the ground. Spike's fist connected with the guy's nose and the kid toppled off his stool as Spike's forehead exploded in pain. He cursed viciously and rubbed his temple in an attempt to ease the pain. He glanced up at Andrea, who winked at him suggestively and wiggled her hips to the music. He groaned and dropped his head into his palms. Why did she have to be so damn sexy when she was drunk? If it was possible, she was even more sexy than normal, but in a different way. Drunk Andrea seemed much more laid back than Sober Andrea. Her protective shield had been lowered a little with each drink she'd consumed.
*And then he falls asleep On the livingroom couch With his sunglasses on And his tongue hangin' out*
Oh, the things he could do to her with his tongue . . . No, bad. Bad Spike. Not the place for fantasies.
She'd completed another chorus and was dancing wildly to the guitar solo. He couldn't help but laugh. Forget sexy. She looked completely ridiculous.
*WHY DO YOU DO WHAT YOU DO TO ME BABY SHAKING MY CONFIDENCE DRIVING ME CRAZY YOU KNOW IF I COULD I'D DO ANYTHING FOR YOU*
Suddenly, she stopped screaming part of the chorus and quieted considerably for the next line.
*I don't mean to bore you Cuz you know I adore you*
She repeated the chorus twice, and instead of slowly fading the words out, she ended abruptly with
*Everything in my life would be alright Alright*
Cheering ensued, men whistling appreciatively and women clapping as the nodded in approval of Andrea's choice of song. She stepped off the stage and made her way back to Spike, who watched her intently from the table. As she passed the now-bleeding frat boy, he slapped her ass, causing her to jump, then erupt onto a fit of giggles. Andrea playfully slapped his shoulder. "You're a naughty boy. Go to my room." Her speech was now slightly slurred as the man laughed.
"Come on, pet. We're leaving," Spike growled, roughly grabbing hold of her upper arm and pulling her out of the club.