Just One Little Kiss
:: CHAPTER SIX ::
Buffy couldn't believe what she'd done. She stood on the balcony of her room, looking out across the night-time city. She was leaning on the railing in her dressing gown.
She must have been possessed! Spike must have been possessed! For no other reason would they have leapt at each other like that, clawed at each other, found peace with each other… Buffy let out a sigh and buried her face in her hands. What had she been thinking? After they had both finally showered, and a little later, come to think of it, Spike had convinced Patrick that they'd been caught in traffic, and him further detained by work. Luckily, he had bought it, and agreed to do some night shooting.
"Why aren't you up there filming?" Marie's voice invaded Buffy's quiet solace. "Spike and Pete have been up there for over an hour."
Buffy turned her head a little as she joined her on the balcony. "Spike told me get some sleep." Marie raised her eyebrows. "No, he didn't order me," Buffy urged, reading her friend's reaction, "I went of my own accord. He just suggested that I should sleep and just start filming as usual, tomorrow."
"What about what you wanted?"
"That was what I wanted!" Frustrated Buffy. She brushed her hair behind her ears. "Why is this an issue! Look, what do you want, Marie?" She glared across at her friend, who seemed to be eying her with a slight smile on her face. Suddenly, her face bloomed happily.
"You like him, don't you!" She grinned, humming at Buffy's angry visage.
"What? No—I…"
"Yeah, whatever, sure. That's why you're blushing." She folded her arms. "You do…and, um," she was trying to read Buffy's face, and succeeding, "now think that he doesn't like you, because he sent you to bed, but what were you supposed to do, so you just went…"
Buffy closed her eyes, droning sarcastically. "You need to stop doing that, Marie."
"So, I'm right!" She grinned. "Let's go inside." She ushered her into the room, and sat her down on her bed, before moving across to the other and sitting atop it too. "So, first you hated him, but he saved you on numerous occasions, and now you've shagged you like him decidedly more, but you think he doesn't like you. Am I right?"
Buffy thought about rebutting, but instead sighed and feebly answered; "Yes."
"Bummer." Marie agreed, nodding her head before lying back to stare at the ceiling. "You know, Pete said the funniest thing today about rye bread. You see, we were in this bakers not too far from here and—"
"Marie!" Buffy breathed, incredulously. "I'm glad you've found a guy you actually like to shag and like to like, but please, can you just help me for a moment without telling me another fifty uses for everyday purpose items from the kitchen in the bedroom?" Marie peered up to see her before laying back down.
"Funnily enough, it was actually a joke about rye bread, and not what your perverted mind thinks." She began to tap her fingers on her stomach. "What exactly do you need help with? Pete says Spike likes you. And as far as I know, you like him, you've both just shagged, and--"
"Spike likes me?" Buffy asked, tilting her head to one side, her eyes wide open, interested in what her friend had to say. "Did he say that? Did you hear him say that?"
Marie giggled and raised her eyebrows. "Oh Buffy!" She rolled onto her side and grinned mischievously at her. "First of all, tell me how much you like him."
Buffy blinked for a moment before responding. "Um, a bit?" She tried, hopefully, but Marie just continued to stare at her. "Alright, a little more than a bit." She blushed, before her face went sullen. "Is that right? I mean, we used to be sworn enemies, practically, and now we've made love, or had sex, I mean, I don't know what I'm supposed to call it… Marie?" She looked to her friend for help.
"You need to stop babbling. 'Credibly annoying." She leaned over and patted Buffy on the knee. "I'd just get some sleep if I were you. Big day ahead of you tomorrow, and--"
"But I don't want to sleep!" Screamed Leah at the top of her lungs. "Why do I have to go home! I want to stay with Spikey!" Her face scrunched up in a sulk.
Spike looked at her and rubbed his temple. "You know what, she can if she wants." He let out in a breath. "Seriously, Shelly, I don't mind." He looked at her, wearily. His sister nodded and made her goodbyes to the restless child, who sat on Spike's bed, looking very pleased with herself.
"Spikey, Spikey, Spikey…" She trailed off, before yawning loudly. "Na-night!" She whispered through drowsy eyes before flopping back onto the pillows.
"Ooh, you cheaky little thing!" Spike taunted, running around the bed and tickling her. "You get the bed while I'm supposed to kip on the floor?" She giggled as he lifted her up and placed her under the covers. "Na-night, love." He whispered, gently, kissing her on her forehead and turning off the light, before closing the door of his bedroom behind him. He stepped into the sitting room of his suite, hands on hips, glaring at Pete who sat watching cartoons on the sofa. "Prick." He spat as he walked towards him and sat down.
Pete turned and grinned at him. "Yup! But I'm not the one who wants to go running off to Miss Summers, am I?"
"What? I do not want to go 'running off' to Buffy!" He exclaimed, indignantly.
"Yeah, sure, whatever…that's why you're so pissed at having to spend an evening with me instead of, well, not." Pete flicked through the channels as the cartoon finished.
"Anyone would prefer to spend time without you then with you, Pete. That's just common sense! Hey!" He shouted as he received a whack around the back of his head. Another followed, and another, until he said; "Ok, ok! I'm sorry. Fuck, man, that hurt!"
"Yeah, well, I'm not kissing it better." Pete growled, before settling on South Park.
"Why are you pissed?" Spike asked, frowning at him.
"They've cancelled 'Hey Arnold'." He answered, irritably, watching his friend's face for any reaction.
"I'm so sorry, man. That's a hard blow." He nodded, sympathetically. "Must admit, I never saw it coming." The corners of his mouth began to curl as he tried to force them down.
Pete watched him for a moment before turning off the TV and giving him his full attention. "So, what's up with you and Buffy?" Spike immediately sobered at the name. He swallowed a lump in his throat.
"H—how, d'you mean?" He cleared his throat and sat up.
"You said that she made your life a living-hell, then you shag her, then you like her, now what?"
"What do you mean, now what?"
"Well," Pete replied, breathing loudly as his frustration rose, "why did you hate her in the first place? She just sounds like a snob. All high-school kids are."
Spike tilted his head back. "Because…" he trailed off, sighing. "Because, she was law and order, and I was anarchy at its best. We were destined to hate each other--"
"And shag? No, no. Don't get me wrong, two people who hate each other are destined to shag." He analysed, cheekily, putting his hands up in front of him and nodding. "I know exactly what you mean. Take me and the guy in the deli across the street. We've been enemies for a while now, ever since I tried his bloody rye bread, but I know that one day, he will love me the way I love him!" He ended dramatically by clasping a hand over his heart and wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.
"Bloody hell, mate, I never knew!" Spike added, with mock care.
Pete glared at him before continuing. "Marie says you practically saved her life once."
"Whose? Buffy's? If you're talking about that time this bloody nerdy fucker she was partnered with in something tried it on with her, I'd hardly call it saving her life. After all, it was mainly because that little twat was a slimy bugger who thought it would be good for a laugh to see if he could be the one to finally get me expelled." Pete raised his eyebrows. "What?"
"That wasn't the time I head about."
Spike's eyes shot up.
FLASHBACK
Spike sat in front of the school councillor, arms folded, slouched back into the chair, his eyes boring into her. Miss Brown sat opposite, behind the safety of her desk, her eyes scanning one of the seven folders devoted to the Times of William Johnson!
"Well," she said, looking up at him, as austerely as she could, "this is the second time this week, Mr Johnson."
"What of it?" Spike replied, darkly, a bored expression fixed across his face.
"It's only Tuesday. Tell me, why do you think you keep finding your way to my office?" She asked, arching her fingers against each other.
"You can hardly get lost in a school this size, Miss." He grinned, falsely. "So, why don't we get to the point of why I'm really here, hmm?"
She furrowed her brow. "You are here because Craig Dawkins said that you beat him up, Mr Johnson."
"Craig Dawkins is a twat." Spike growled, angrily. He sat up, more alert about what was going on.
"Did you hurt him?"
"Not as much as I bloody well will!" His hands formed fists at his sides, his eyes fixed on hurting one Craig Dawkins.
"William!" The young woman snapped. "This school doesn't abide bullying!"
"Oh yeah? Then why the fuck am I here?" He looked into her eyes, his seemingly pained beneath the surface. His voice calmed, along with her expression. "That git has it in for me, Miss Brown, honest. He abuses his power as a—um, look, I don't know what the fuck he is, but I haven't touched him."
Her face turned to pity as the hardened student in front of her seemed so much clearer. "Do you want me to bring this up?" She asked, softly.
Spike realised what was going to happen; he was going to fight this arse on his own ground.
"No, please Miss, I don't want any trouble!" He begged, still the sad expression on his face.
"William, don't worry." She said, tilting her head. "I wont mention your name, but you can't let him get away with it. This school doesn't abide bullying of any kind. Now, why don't you get back to your lesson?"
He held her eyes, softly for a while, before nodding and smiling. "Thank you." He stood and left her room, a grin appearing across his face. That little twat was going to get it; to many times had he ratted on him, too many times had he made up shit to get him in front of Miss Brown. It was only fair; fighting by the rules, Dawkin's rules.
Spike turned out of the grey school building and headed across the fields to the bike shed for a smoke with anyone worth smoking with round there. He took a deep breath as he smoothed back his hair and lifted a cigarette out of a pack in his pocket. He flipped open a silver lighter, and ignited the end with the flame that sprung out.
Reaching the wall, he leant against the bricks, solitarily, and breathed in the small freedom.
A noise from the trees that cloaked the bike shed from the rest of the school made his neck shoot up.
"Boris? Boris, is that you?" He called in his deep voice into the darkness of the trees. "Boris, you dirty bugger, are you in there?" He headed towards the trees and allowed himself to be enveloped by the leaves.
He waded a little way further, before stopping abruptly, another noise to the left of him forcing him into stilling. He flicked his cigarette onto the floor and stamped it out.
"Where did you say you found the specimen?" A nervous voice carried to him.
"Summers." He laughed, quietly to himself. "Not scared of the dark, are we?" He smiled, and began to head back out of the woods.
"What? No!" Her voice was suddenly panicked. Spike stopped and paused for a moment to see what he could hear. There was scuffling. "No! No!" Her voice was shrieking, louder and louder.
"Shit!" He cursed, following the voice as quick as he could, back into the darkness, with only speckled beams of light to help him.
"Get off me!" She shouted as Spike emerged into the clearing. He looked down, startled to see Buffy pressed against the floor, that git, Craig Dawkins on top of her, pinning her down against the leaves. Her knee-length skirt was riding high around her thighs, her shirt half tugged off her shoulder. Fuck thinking!
Spike reached down and pulled him off her, pushing him against a tree, causing his glasses to break and fall to the ground. Craig turned, just inside to see Spike's fist come into contact with his face with force. He fell back, clutching his hands to his cheek, crouching back in fear.
Fuck the rules; that wanker had it coming!
"You're even lower then I thought you were." Spike spat as Craig turned and half-ran, half-crawled out, back to the school. "Wanker."
He turned to face Buffy, who lay trembling on the ground. Spike helped her up and dusted some of the leaves that had stuck to her back. She lowered her skirt as he took a step back and turned, letting her gather herself together.
"Thank you." She said, shakily from behind him. He turned, but wouldn't meet her eyes. He nodded once and took a long breath before realising who he was and who she was.
"Listen, next time anyone tries anything like that, knee to the balls. Stops 'em dead in their tracks. Bloody painful stuff." Suddenly she forgot her fear, she felt safe and smiled. "I'm not kidding, I've had to do it to many a randy sod who's tried to have a go with me. All men are bastards." He didn't seem like one to her. This was the third time he was there when she needed help; first that time at night, then with the professor, and now this.
His eyes reached hers, cautiously. As they met, time slowed for a moment and they were both content to simply stand and smile.
Spike cleared his throat and turned his head away, jamming his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "What were you doing out here? I didn't have you pegged as a bike-shed-gal."
She shook her head, reality streaming back to her. "Craig said that he thought he'd seen a living specimen of the fungus lothargicus, sleeping mushroom, and wanted to show it to me." Her voice was steadying.
Spike leaned towards her, humour relieving the situation of its severity. "Well, the next time some bollock-brain offers to show you his specimen, just say no, alright?" She giggled lightly, as he led her out of the bracken.
"Thank you, William." She said, softly, as they emerged at one end of the field, the school at the other.
"Later, Summers." He grinned, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. "See you in school." He was mentally hardening; the prospect of the grey prison in front of him reminded him further of whom he was.
"That is if you turn up." She said, sarcastically. She turned to him, the know-it-all, again. Inside, he was proud that she hadn't been scarred by Craig's fumbling, but didn't show it. He turned to glare at her. "You should attend more lessons, it's for your own good. And you shouldn't smoke. It's bad for you."
"Yeah, whatever." He growled, turning back to head to the bike-shed. She smiled as he left, and walked back to her comfortable life at school."
"No, shit!" Marie exclaimed in disbelief as Pete told her. They were in a bubble bath, surrounded by candles; something generally too romantic for either of them, but not in this case. "Buffy never told me about that."
"Yeah, well, I only found out today. And, guess what."
"What?"
"Spike pretty much quit smoking after that." He grinned, leaning forwards and kissing Marie gently on her lips.
"What? Because of Buffy?" Marie leaned forwards to help him in his endeavour.
"He says no. But he's an idiot."
"Tell me about it," she whined, running her hands up her legs, "try getting a straight answer out of either of them! You know, I asked Buffy how exactly she thought he had made her high-school a living hell, and she just went on about him being the rebel anarchist."
Pete backed away and looked at her, nodding. "I know! I asked Spike, and he said that she wrecked his time because she was Prissy in Pink!" Marie smiled.
"Some people just keep skirting around the issue that is straight in front of them!" She gossiped. He nodded.
Then what are we doing? Pete thought, smiling at her in the dim light.
Just like us. She purred back.
::
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