Chapter 8
“Dear God, what is that thing?” Buffy exclaimed, revolted.
“Isn’t she gorgeous?” Spike questioned emphatically.
“The word ‘no’ springs to mind, but it feels so inadequate.” She couldn’t help but grimace as she stared at the “classic” car Spike had driven into the garage. He’d called it a “De Soto”. She thought it looked more like a Piece of Crap-o. She giggled at her own lame joke.
The monstrosity had a rust-colored hood, black body, two grey doors, more dents and dings than one could count, and four different tires and rims. Honestly, Buffy was impressed it had even made it to the farm from…where ever he had gotten it.
“Where’d you get it, anyway?” she wondered, as Spike ran gentle hands lovingly over the fender, as if it were a priceless piece of art.
“Clem knows a bloke who wanted to just haul this beauty off to a junkyard. Lucky I got to him in time. Can you imagine a piece of history like this, just being tossed along the wayside, forgotten?”
Buffy thought to herself that there were things in history that never should have happened. The Salem Witch Trials, Pepsi Max, K-Fed, and this car.
“Once I slap a new coat of paint on her,” he continued, “some new tires, a new radiator, she’ll be good as new.” He shrugged. “Oh, and new upholstery, all new wiring, a muffler, and change out all the brakes and belts.”
“Is that all?” she murmured quietly.
He glared, one eyebrow raised, lips pursed.
Buffy’s breath caught as she imagined nibbling that full lower lip. *Yummy.* She cleared her throat, attempting to look casual.
“When are you going to find time to fix it up? There’s so much to be done around here.”
Spike looked at their shabby surroundings, then tilted his head to look back at her. “Well we’d better get started then, hadn’t we pet?”
***
The days succeeding were long, hot, and tiring. The daily chores, like milking and moving pipe, went much more quickly now Spike and Xander had called off their pissing contest. So much so, in fact, that they were finished by lunchtime most days, leaving the entirety of the afternoon to projects around the farm that had been neglected for far too long.
The first task was a new fence for the pasture, which held the few horses and cattle. After two straight days of digging post holes, Spike cursed himself for ever having complained about moving pipe. That was cake work, comparatively. There were definite plusses, though. He had learned—the hard way—the benefits of proper clothing and sunscreen, and now wore one of Xander’s cowboy hats and a white T-shirt every day, which he only removed for Buffy’s “lemonade visits”. For the sole purpose of cooling off, of course. She seemed to make these trips quite as often as was reasonably justifiable. Add that to the now-healed sunburn, and Spike had the golden kind of tan a guy just can’t get in London. He didn’t mind one bit. Buffy didn’t seem to, either.
Time to work on the De Soto wasn’t as hard to come by as he had expected. Xander worked as a construction manager in town most evenings, to bring in some extra money, so Spike was often left to fend for himself with the two women of the household. Though at first he had no objection to this whatsoever, it soon became evident that his dreams—and daydreams—made interaction with certain of them too tense at times. He had to do something with his hands, and since a nineteen year-old male can only take so many showers a day without raising a few eyebrows, automovitve reconstruction proved to be the most productive. And prudent, for that matter.
So there he was, flat underneath the car again, ratcheting away and humming Blitzkrieg Bop to himself. He heard the garage door open and close and a pair of flip flops clapping against the cement floor.
“Whatchya doin’?” Buffy asked airily. He could hear she had gum in her mouth.
*Not thinking of shagging you, that’s for damn sure.* “Just checking the front end. What brings you out here, pet?”
“Seriously in need of a break from dishes. I swear, with two guys in the house, I’ve never seen so many dirty dishes in my life. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
He poked his head out from under the De Soto and gave her a pitiful look. “Please accept my sincerest apologies.” He quickly disappeared again. Looking from the ground all the way up Buffy’s perfect legs to the hem of her tiny denim shorts cut off whatever witty retort he would have added, and suddenly it felt incredibly hot and cramped in the garage. *Thank the Lord for baggy coveralls*, he thought, else he’d have been even more uncomfortable. *Cars, cars, cars*, he repeated to himself over and over again, taking deep breaths to try and calm down. *Cars, cars, in the back seat of the car with Buffy’s lips on my-*
“Do you wanna come, Spike?” he heard Buffy ask.
He nearly choked on his own tongue. “What?” Spike practically yelled.
“Would you like to come into town with me? To run some errands? I’ve been talking for a minute straight, here, and you didn’t hear a word I said. Boys and their toys,” she finished with a sigh.
Clenching his jaw and breathing deeply through his nose, he calmed down a bit. Spike moved out from under the car, wiping his greasy hands on a rag.
Buffy struggled to keep her mouth from dropping open like a fish as Spike stood up, his coveralls unzipped, the top half hanging about his waist, and gazed at his body barely hidden by a white tanktop, shining with sweat and marred by engine grease. *Ohhh salty goodness.* Catching herself, she shook her head slightly, avoiding his eyes. “Well, I’m going to head into town, if you want to come.” Looking him up and down slowly again, she finally made eye contact. “But if you’d rather stay home and take a shower or something…”
The way she was looking at him made Spike want to kiss her breathless right then and there. He swallowed. “Yeah, I think I’ll stay home and shower. Or something.” He said vaguely.
Buffy smiled awkwardly and walked out of the garage, her hips sashaying gently in her shorts.
*Sod it all!* Spike ran into the house as soon as she was out of sight, heading for the bathroom. Never mind the fact it would be his fourth shower today.
A/N: So there you are, kiddies, the continuation of this little story. And it only took three quarters of a year! If anyone's still with me, please leave a review and let me know!
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm baaaaack! After a nine-month hiatus, this story is finally progressing forward and I couldn't be more excited. And I've alread y got the next chapter ready to go! Thanks so much to Flibble, my incomparable beta.