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Author's Chapter Notes:
Seriously, I can't thank you all enough for reviewing and staying with me. Maybe I should whine about not getting enough reviews more often...lol. Thanks to the best beta ever, Flibble, and Bree for keeping my chin up.

I don't claim rights to 311, The Cure, Marc Broussard, or any of their works. Just using 'em for a story. Though I would have Marc's babies...
Chapter Six




The Bronze was loud, stuffy and crowded. You couldn't move six inches in any direction without awkwardly bumping into someone or having a drink spilled on you. Just the way a club should be.

By the time Buffy, Xander, Willow and Spike arrived - Willow having spent a full two hours perfecting her "my boyfriend's in the band" ensemble - Oz's band Dingoes Ate My Baby was just about to start their first set. The group grabbed a table near the dance floor, directly in front of the stage for optimum Oz viewage.

"You nervous, Spike? Big performance and all tonight," Xander asked.

"What's to be nervous about?" He casually countered. *Other than the hordes of drunken critics, not to mention Buffy gawking at me while I make a fool of myself.* He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat uncomfortably as the band took the stage to raucous applause.

The four of them talked and laughed as Dingoes played loudly, except for the moments Willow would shush them to try and hear one of her boyfriend's solos. Xander even bought a round of drinks, which predictably turned into an amiable argument between he and Spike as to whether or not a 19 year old could legally drink in the U.S., since he was legal in his own country. It ended with a drinkless Spike muttering about "age-ists" as the band announced they were taking a break. A DJ started playing danceable music and Willow got up and adjusted her clothing.

"That'd be my cue to exit. Gotta go fight off the unseemly types from my oh-so-talented man," she stated with a grin.

"Think I'm going to follow her," Xander said with an even bigger grin. "Cute girls go where the band is. Xander goes where the cute girls are."

Spike gazed at Buffy as she chuckled at Xander's comment and they bade him farewell. "Well, pet, guess that leaves just you and me." He stood with a smile and offered his hand. "Dance with me?"

Buffy eyed him warily for a moment. "I don't know if I'm in the mood to embarrass myself at the moment."

He looked at her pointedly. "Nope. Sorry. No sympathy. I'm the one who has to dance and sing tonight. Right bloody Broadway revue. C'mon. Least you can do to ease my pain," Spike finished with a pleading look.

She sighed and took his hand, letting him lead her out to the floor. He expertly steered her through the crowd with his hand on the small of her back, and Buffy found it hard to resist melting into his strong touch already. They found a clearing in the mass of writhing bodies as the beat slowed and a familiar melody had her grinning and moving her body slowly. "I love this song!"

Spike rolled his eyes.

"What? 'Love Song' is one of the best-ever...love songs." She scowled.

"Yeah," he countered. The music was loud enough that he could move much closer to her under the pretense of easier conversation. "I liked it too, the first time, when a little band called The Cure sang it."

"Hello, California girl, here!" Buffy said, now close enough that she didn't have to raise her voice much at all. "Of course I prefer the 311 version. Much sexier."

He had to admit, she did have a point. Spike didn't know the last time a simple song and watching a woman dance had been such a turn-on. Placing his hands on her hips, he was more than a little relieved when she didn't pull away, but moved even nearer, her body now pressed lightly against his. Watching her move so rhythmically, the sweet smell of her gorgeous hair, the way her halter top and jeans hugged her curves perfectly, the sight of a smile tugging at her glossy lips as she closed her eyes and lost herself in the song; it was almost too much for him. And when her hands glided up his biceps and over his shoulders to clasp behind his neck, he couldn't help but wonder what he'd done to deserve this moment.

As the music overtook her slowly, Buffy was struck vaguely by the thought that her body seemed to fit so well next to his. For once, she didn't feel dwarfed or intimidated, but sensual and confident. His whole being exuded an all-encompassing sexuality that she was undeniably drawn to. And for the first time in what seemed like forever, she took a deep breath and just went with it. She exhaled slowly and made the choice to just enjoy the moment for what it was, to lose herself in the feel of his strong chest and torso pressed against hers, the smell of his cologne, and the way he slowly ran his hands up and down her sides as their bodies moved in sync. The song ended and she could hear a seemingly distant voice and applause from all sides.

"Thank you!" Oz yelled into the microphone over the noisy crowd. "We're back from our little break and ready to try something a little different for you all tonight. We're going to bring up a friend of mine to play our next song with us, so everybody give it up for our guest singer, Spike Blood." The inebriated crowd cheered once more.

"Guess that's me," Spike said softly, reluctantly pulling away from Buffy.

She shoved him gently in the direction of the stage. "Break a leg!" she shouted over the noise.

With a deep breath, he walked up on the stage to more applause, and several catcalls from women throughout the club. Spike shook hands with the bandmates and grabbed a guitar off the stand next to the drums and sat down in a folding chair in front of the microphone. He thanked the audience and Buffy could feel a collective sigh from the female occupants of the room at his accent.

Complaining under her breath about desperate groupies and making her way back to the table where Willow and Xander sat, a sweet, soulful note shot straight from Spike's throat to her spine. The band started in on a slow, sensual song that Buffy had never heard before, but could instantly tell would be a new favorite.


There's a soft, sweet space on the back of your neck
That smells like rain

Spike crooned in a simple, sexy voice.

There's a way you look at me, baby
Heals my pain
Now I've studied every inch of your body
Baby, what's on your mind?
The touch of your skin just pulls me in
Every single time
There's a silent conversation
Full of hidden revelations
In your eyes

She was sure he was looking her directly in the eye as the chorus picked up.

Baby I'm so into you
Every whisper from your soul to my heart
And Baby I know it's true
You're a sweet little mystery sent to me from the stars
And that's the beauty of who you are

There's a faith you're saving for a rainy day
I could use right now
There's a way you move my soul to sing
Only you know how
You are sensual salvation
You're the holiest temptation
Baby, I'm never, never, never going to be the same

Cat calls and obscene comments mingled with the general applause from all over the club now, and Spike visibly gained confidence.

Baby I'm so into you
Every whisper from your soul to my heart
And Baby I know it's true
You're a sweet little mystery sent to me from the stars
And that's the beauty of who you are

I can't explain it
Or begin to conceive
All I know is that you made me believe

Baby I'm so into you
Every whisper from your soul to my heart
And Baby I know it's true
You're a sweet little mystery sent to me from the stars
And that's the beauty of who you are

The last few notes of the song were drowned out completely by the overwhelming approval of the audience and Spike couldn't have been happier. He stood and shook hands with the band again and held up a hand in gratitude to the room and walked offstage grinning.

Buffy watched as women in various states of drunkenness and undress surrounded him. She sneered at the sluttiness that seemed to positively radiate from every chick in the joint, clapped politely, then reached over and took a huge swallow of Xander's Jack on the rocks. "Blech."

***

A long while and a few too many drinks later, Buffy spotted Spike making his way through the crowd back to their table. As he sat, Xander and Willow each handed out genuine, excited complements on his performance. He looked to Buffy, but she remained silent, taking another long swallow of her drink. "Blech," was all she said.

Spike scowled in disappointment, but brushed it off, trying to convince himself that it wasn't her approval that mattered above all others. Eventually the band finished for the night, leaving the music to the DJ, and Oz joined the group. They all relaxed and laughed for a bit, until Xander looked over his shoulder and suddenly began straightening his collar and primping frantically. Spike followed his line of vision and saw a very attractive brunette coming toward them purposefully. She stopped at their table, next to Xander's chair, who gazed at her like she was an angel while the woman made eye contact with Spike.

"Hello. I wish to congratulate you on your performance," she said brightly. "I believe it's safe to say you made every woman in here wish for the opportunity for you to give them orgasms. Well done." And with that, she turned around and left.

Spike tried to fake a smirk to cover both the flat-out confusion and the embarrassment he felt. "Right. Who was that?"

Xander muttered something unintelligible, and Willow filled in for him. "Anya Jenkins. Xander's had a thing for her since tenth grade, and she's even weirder now than she was then." She turned to her best friend, who seemed to be coming out of his stupor. "You do realize she's insane, don't you?"

Oz rubbed his girlfriend's arm. "Oh, come on. I don't know about insane. I think slightly mentally ill fits better in this situation."

"Hey, so maybe she's a little...unique," Xander countered. "Unique is sexy, right?"

Willow simply rolled her eyes, then focused on a point over Spike's shoulder. "Oh, Spike, it looks like another one of your fan club members is coming this way," she said with a smirk.

He turned in his chair to see a pretty blonde teenager standing right in front of him, wearing a very skimpy, very pink dress. She batted her big doe-eyes at him and smiled coyly. "Wanna dance?" she asked.

She was pretty, she was attainable, and she was more than willing, but this girl wasn't the one he wanted to dance with. "What's your name, pet?" he asked with a cocky smirk, while at the same time taking a peek at Buffy to see her reaction.

"Harmony," he heard the girl answered as he continued to study Buffy, who had her head tilted completely back, tapping the bottom of her glass to get the last piece of ice into her mouth. He took a deep breath and turned his attentions back to the girl in front of him. "You know, Harmony, I can't think of a thing I'd rather do than dance with you." Spike threw a wink over his shoulder in Xander's direction and let the girl lead him away.

Buffy glared across the room, as much as her blurred vision would allow her. *God, whore much? Who does she think she is, wearing that nasty little nothing of a dress and talking to my Spike.* she thought as she watched the two blondes share flirty touches and a very close dance. *No! Dammit! Spike. Not my Spike. Just Spike.* Sitting there, witnessing this disgusting display, her head started to spin and nothing seemed right at all. Something had to be done. She wouldn't stand for such skankiness. Almost of their own will, her feet carried her shakily across the dance floor to where Spike and the ho were pressed against each other. She tapped the groupie on her fake-baked arm to get her attention. "Excuse me, but what was your name, again?" she asked politely.

Spike and the blonde wrapped around him stared at her blankly, but after a moment, the girl answered back. "Um, my name's Harmony. Harmony Kendall."

Buffy looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, then grinned and clapped her hands as though overjoyed. She turned her attention to Spike. "Oh, baby!" she cried, squeezing herself between him and Harmony. "That's absolutely perfect, isn't it?"

He continued to stare at her in confusion.

"Oh, don't play dumb. Those names, of course. Harmony and Kendall? Won't they just be the most adorable names for the twins when they're born?" she cried excitedly, rubbing her abdomen lovingly.

The girl called Harmony's eyed bugged out comically and she stomped away, leaving Spike with his mouth opening and closing like a fish, trying to get a handle on what in the hell had just happened. He grabbed Buffy by the wrist and practically dragged her from the dance floor, out a side door that led to an empty alleyway. "Bleedin' hell, woman!" he cried, once they were outside. "Have you gone completely daft? What was all that about?"

"Oh, come on, Spike," Buffy said with a giggle, leaning back against a cool wall to steady herself. "I did you a favor in there."

"Oh yeah, right, a favor...because God knows I didn't want a gorgeous girl hanging on my every word and every limb all night. Jesus, Buffy! What were you doing? What were you thinking?"

She visibly bristled. "What was I doing? Maybe trying to look out for you so you wouldn't have nasty little skank-whores following you around, embarrassing you and themselves!"

Spike scoffed and folded his arms in front of his chest.

Buffy continued, all the yelling and gesticulating not helping where the problem of balance was concerned. "And what was I thinking? God, Spike, what were you thinking, huh? At the very least you could get someone your own age!" She pressed herself closer into the wall as he suddenly moved a few steps nearer in frustration.

"My own age?" he cried, pointing to himself. "You silly chit, she's eighteen! She is my own age!"

What possessed her, she'd never know - whether it was her own severe intoxication, or the way his intoxicating cyan eyes turned stormy as his jaw clenched in anger - but before she even realized she'd moved, Buffy's lips were on his in a hungry kiss. This effectively silenced Spike, but after the briefest of moments, snatched her back to sobering reality. *Oh, God* she thought. *Spike lips...lips of Spike!*

She pulled away abruptly, leaving him with a puckered, shell-shocked look on his face and what she knew to be one of utter horror upon her own. They stood there for what seemed to be an eternity, each staring wide-eyed at the other.

Torn between more yelling, more kissing, or passing out, Buffy settled somewhere in between. She vomited all over Spike's vintage Doc Marten's.






A/N: See? Drinking always leads to badness. The song in this chapter is "So Into You" by Marc Broussard, who is someone I pretty much worship as a god. Check him out. I told you I'd use a lot of songs in my fic. Thanks again for all of your support so far, I had more reviews in the last chap than ever before, and I appreciate it so much. You have no idea how much they keep me going. Luvs!





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