Loose Ends
Chapter 4 of several
by Lynne C.
Rating: R
Disclaimer: It's all Joss' - I worship at the altar of his genius, and acknowledge that he owns all these folks and everything that they do and say.
Setting/Spoilers: AtS Season 5, generally - and, Spike's "semi-canon" past (London, mid-1970s)
Summary: An unexpected epilogue to an incident in Spike's past, inspired by a throwaway line from Buffy 7.8
Misc: You can look in my ff.net profile for my website, and check there for updates to this story, or to read this part with its proper formatting (italics and such).
Loose Ends
He had no sense of how long they'd remained like that, in tandem with the music, and mirroring its chaos. The scent of her was exquisite, and combined with the melange of sights, sounds and motion surrounding them to produce a highly intoxicating sensory experience.
Spike's free hand had found one of her breasts, and fondled it through her swastika-decorated t-shirt. Being staunchly opposed to social norms, she wore no bra, and her nipples stiffened immediately against his fingers, in response to the contact. One of his denim-clad legs had found its way between hers, and her plaid mini schoolgirl-style skirt was riding well up as he moved with and against her. The arm that had held her around her middle had migrated south, and he was teasing the hem of her skirt in the front. If he needed further evidence of the rightness of his choice of companion, it was given by the pressure of her ass against his groin, and the way that she leaned into the hand at her breast. When the fingers at the front of her skirt had explored sufficiently to glean that this girl was opposed to the restriction of all undergarments, he heard her moan and her head fell back on his shoulder.
He would have taken that as his opportunity to move the festivities outside, but a new sound joined the general eardrum-battering that had ensued to that point. Spike looked towards the stage to see a microphone stand come flying out into the audience. The green-haired kid from King's Road, who was the lead singer for this little band, had evidently flung it, and now stood screaming epithets and surveying his handiwork, a contorted grin showing off his decayed teeth.
People were running around, taking the opportunity to crash into each other, with an outbreak of fisticuffs in one corner quickly drawing a crowd. A short teenage girl in pigtails and a dominatrix getup was flailing away at a support column with the mic stand, which molded itself further to the shape of the support with each blow.
Never one to stand by a good fracas, Spike grabbed a glass of beer which no one seemed to be minding from a nearby table, took several swallows, then whaled it back at the stage, missing the drummer only because he leaned down to pick up his own drink from the floor. The glass shattered, spraying glass and beer all over the stage.
Now real chaos threatened, though the bass player gamely played on, accompanied by feedback from a mic which had fallen too close to an amplifier.
Supremely unconcerned about the two bouncers who were closing in on him, Spike backed blond girl up against another support column (the remnants of the original mic stand lay in a crumpled heap of metal at the base of the one across the room) and had her pinned there, his tongue deep in the hot recesses of her mouth and one hand fully engaged under her shirt. She was returning the kiss with great enthusiasm, while strangled mewling sounds came from her throat.
What a gorgeous throat...blood so close.... A hand falling on one of his shoulders interrupted his appreciation of the rich, melodic hum of her circulation just below her pale skin. He snapped his head backwards quickly, catching the first of the bouncers square in the face, knocking him senseless and sending him reeling off to the side and into a pack of kids who took turns spinning him around and pushing him in a new direction, denying him an opportunity to get his bearings. Surprised at his mate's fate, the second bouncer briefly broke stride, but rallied quickly and drew back a fist, expecting to deliver a crushing blow to Spike's jaw. Instead, Spike grabbed the blonde's right hand in his left, dodged sideways with her, and clamped his own right fist around the beefy forearm of the bouncer. A quick snap to the outside dislocated the guy's elbow, dropping him to the floor where he shrieked and writhed.
He'd done an infinitesimal amount of damage, relative to his capacity. But as much fun as a good brawl could be, he was now more interested in drenching himself in the moist warmth that the girl's body offered him. He dragged her towards the club entrance and out into the night.
To be continued….