A/N: Though I’d love to have thought up that cell-phone scene at the end of the last chapter… I can’t take credit for it. The conversation and basis for conversation was my own, but the actual idea of him calling his own cell phone in hopes of reaching her was from the book. Props to David Levithlan.
Music Referenced:
“Love me Two Times” – The Doors (*)
“Hot Pursuit” – The Bravery (**)
(** are for your reference)
Chapter Twelve
That jerk, Buffy thought, unable to conceal her smile as she stared at the cardboard coffee cup in front of her. Slowly, she put his cell phone down on the table next to her cup, wondering if she had really just heard his voice seconds ago. She shivered as she replayed the conversation in her head. That move he pulled? Totally hot. She mentally added a bazillion irrevocable cool points to his name.
Before he pulled that stunt, she had been ready to call it a night; drink a cappuccino, eat a small cheesecake, and give her mother’s limo service a ring. It was hard to believe that she had actually been eager to crawl into bed and drown the world out until the next day when everything would hopefully have been infinitely clearer.
But now that she had heard his deep, throaty voice millimeters from her ear, her heart rate had increased and her body miraculously energized itself. How amazing… she twirled her stirrer around in the coffee, thoughtfully. Sleeping was the furthest thing on her mind now.
Buffy twisted her watch around on her wrist to read the time. 1:18 am. He had seven more minutes to go. Her fingers tapped impatiently across the table and looked nervously around the coffeehouse.
The man behind the bar was busily wiping down mugs and plates and occasionally glanced up at the clock by the door, probably counting down the seconds until his shift ended. There were a few older businessmen scattered around the counter reading newspapers, their coffee left untouched in front of them. Besides herself, only two other people sat at the booths. Their noses were both buried in something; a textbook, a magazine, a novel… Buffy couldn’t tell.
After some silent observation, she noticed that every single person with her in The Espresso Pump was either moving his head or tapping her foot to the background music that she recognized as a song from The Doors.
(*)
Love me two time, baby, love me twice today
Love me two time, girl, I'm goin' away
Love me two time girl, one for tomorrow,
One just for today
Love me two times
I'm goin' away
She stuck the coffee stirrer in her mouth to play with and propped her chin up with her hands, thinking about how amazing it was that music connected everybody in the world. It was the universal bond that kept every single person together. How adequate.
Just in time, the bells to the front of the coffee shop jingled and she froze, the stirrer clenched between her teeth stopping mid-swing.
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(**)
You’ve got nowhere to run
You’ve got nowhere to hide
I think you won’t escape this time
You can’t run far enough
You can’t run fast enough
You can’t outrun my love
“Hot Pursuit” was playing on repeat in his head as he turned the corner from Canal Street to Mott. Spike could hardly breathe, but he willed his legs to keep running. There was no time to lose and his heart rate soared up exponentially as he anticipated the very millisecond he would see her face again.
The possibility of falling down dead from exhaustion vaguely registered and he thought, Hell, I’m gonna have a bloody heart condition. But nonetheless, he kept going, weaving through walking people, rushing past street vendors closing up shop, his adrenaline the only thing keeping his feet moving.
Hot Pursuit
I’m coming for you
Hot Pursuit
I’m gaining on you
You’re moving fast
But you’ll never outlast me
Hot Hot Hot Pursuit
He had to give it to The Bravery, their words made him more determined to get to her and forced his legs to go even faster. Spike was never much of a runner. In fact, he despised running. Every once in a while, Oz and Devon would pester him into going jogging with them and he would relent, grumbling, complaining, and lagging behind the entire time.
Yeah, he went to the gym from time to time. When nobody important was around, he even sneaked onto the bicycle for a few minutes here and there. But for some reason, the thought of bitingly chilly air rushing into the lungs and making them feel like he was getting the wind knocked out of him just didn’t strike his fancy.
Yet here he was, beating the bloody world record for this girl. And she thought he wanted to get back with Drusilla. Stupid, sodding bint, he growled to himself.
When Spike saw the sign for The Espresso Pump, he practically collapsed in relief, eager to give his sore lungs and legs a rest.
Finally.
From outside, he caught sight of his jacket and her blonde hair twisted up in that loose bun that – for some magical reason – always seemed to be perfectly messy. This was it. He took a deep breath and walked inside.
Her shoulders visibly tense up when the door jingled the bells. Not giving himself enough time to come up with a dramatic entrance, Spike strode up to her and sat himself down at the booth across her.
It took a few moments for him to completely take her in. Her sparkly green eyes were wide, her elbows were on the table holding up her chin, and there was a red coffee stirrer dangling from her mouth.
“Hello, cutie,” he said, casually, reaching for the fork in front of her and helping himself to a large chunk of her untouched cheesecake.
The stirrer toppled to the table.
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Immediately after the surprise of seeing him, solid and as real as ever, went away, she quickly moved the dirty stirrer to the side. She was embarrassed. There he was in front of her, his cheeks tinted a very faint shade of pink, his platinum hair loose and slightly curling, his shirt a little wrinkled, looking as completely gorgeous as ever and all she could do was stare.
As he happily had his way with her food, she mentally fretted over the state of her face. Shit! She inwardly groaned. Her makeup wasn’t fresh and it wasn’t off. In fact, most of her eye-makeup was probably smudged a mile below her actual eye. When she had walked into the coffeehouse, the first thing she had done was gone into the bathroom to splash water over her face. It never occurred to her to clean up or anything until now. And how could she? With him giving her a curious look from across the table.
She frowned when she noticed his heavy breathing, “Did you run all the way here?”
“No. I flew,” Spike answered with his mouth full. After he swallowed, he rolled his eyes and said, “Of course I was running!”
“Oh.”
“And you bloody well better appreciate it,” he jabbed the fork at her before burying it into the cheesecake again. “I hate running.”
“Really? I love it,” Buffy took her elbows off the table and leaned back, relaxing. “It makes me feel really good.”
“Oh yeah? Well, it makes me feel like crap. I must be crazy, running all the way here for a measly slice of cheesecake.”
She heard the joking tone in his voice and smiled a little, “What? I’m not worth it?”
“Only a crazy bloke would put up with you, stunt like that you pulled. Running away without a good and proper reason,” he was trying to glare at her but his face betrayed him into grinning.
“Oh, so you’re crazy?”
“Precisely.”
Spike held up the fork to her and offered her a bite, “Want some? It’s good.” Buffy almost laughed at the way he was offering her the food she had bought with her own money. She shook her head.
“No thanks. Over the phone, you talked about some kind of decision,” she said a little nervously. She needed to hear the words from him; the words that would tell her that he chose her. He had to have chosen her, right? Him being here and all that.
“I did,” he answered simply, prolonging her distress.
“And…”
“Oh, are you even serious? Do you really have to ask?”
“Yes!” Buffy glared, crossing her arms across her chest. “I want to hear you say it.”
Spike sighed, warily, and shook his head. “Bloody stubborn bint…” he muttered, making her protest.
“Hey!”
“Well, it’s true! You know exactly what decision I made and yet you have to ask me.”
Buffy was silent for a moment, then slowly, her bottom lip jutted out and she pouted. Spike narrowed his eyes and stared at her lips before giving in. “Okay, okay,” he put down his fork and sat forward. “I decided that Drusilla wasn’t who I wanted.”
“And who do you want?” Buffy prompted him. He huffed a little and she pouted some more.
“Bloody hell, woman. I want you, okay?”
She couldn’t help the giddy smile from spreading when she heard those words. Oh yeah. Gotta make him say that more often… Spike’s face softened and he reached across the table to tweak her chin.
“Is it that hard to believe?” he asked her.
Buffy bit her lower lip and shrugged, “A little. I mean, you’ve been with her for a long time and you’ve known me for… not such a long time. I thought it’d only be natural that you’d take her back…”
Spike thought about that for a moment, then asked, “So, if Angel walked in here this moment and asked you to go home with him, would you say yes?”
“What? Of course not!”
“See my point?” He raised an I-told-you-so eyebrow and she couldn’t help but laugh.
“I guess I do,” she admitted, “I was pretty stupid, wasn’t I?”
“Damn right, you were.”
“But…” she paused, trying to figure out how to word what was on her mind, “Back when we were at the club… you looked like you still haven’t gotten over her. What makes you want me all of a sudden?”
“First off, it wasn’t an all-of-a-sudden deal, love,” Spike said, sliding his arm across the table to take her hand in his. “I’ve been talking to you all night and every minute I spend with you makes me want to spend another ten. I’d be stupid not to want you, really.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, kitten, really,” he told her and she smiled, shyly. “Come on. You’re funny, beautiful, you’ve got these quirky little habits like scrunching up your nose and putting all sorts of foreign objects in your mouth – Ow!”
He glared at her when she slapped his hand. Buffy turned red and looked away, “Stop it. You’re making me blush.”
“I quite like making you blush,” he sounded proud, then added, “I even wrote you a song.”
A song? How long had she wanted a guy to write her a song? Buffy perked up and sat straight. “Really? Let me hear it,” she urged him, shaking his hand playfully.
He hesitated, then refused her, “No, you’ll run away.”
“No, I wont!”
“I can’t be sure of that,” he said. Buffy tried pouting but he shook his finger at her. “None of that. You’ve already run away once.”
“Different circumstance!” Buffy waved, dismissing it. There was no way in hell that she wasn’t going to hear this song.
“Same fear,” he countered.
Buffy scrunched up her eyebrows, confused, “Fear?”
“You. Running,” he tapped her hand two times with his thumb as he said the words.
“Why would I run from your song?”
Spike didn’t answer right away and instead, stared at the their joined hands as they seemed to flirt with each other of their own accord. His hands moved to intertwine their fingers, her hands squeezed and flipped the hands around, his fingers caressed hers gently, she undid the tangle and laid his flat on the table, drawing circles on his palm. “Don’t rightly know,” he said, slowly. “Might scare you.”
She smiled and traced a heart on his palm then stuck an arrow through it. “It takes a lot to scare me.”
He was silent for a moment, then he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her fingers. “We have plenty of time for you to hear the song later, pet.”
The tingles in her fingers spread down her arm and warmed her body. “Are you making excuses?” she asked, smiling.
“Pretty much, yeah.”
She pouted and he leaned across the table to kiss her gently on the lips. This time, she felt the tingles from her heart. He pulled away a fraction of an inch and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“So, we’re good now?” she asked, softly.
He quirked a suggestive eyebrow at her and smirked, “Better than good, I’d say.”
“Oh, shut up,” she smacked him lightly and he pulled her back for another kiss.
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Her lips were so soft and he was so hungry for her that it took more effort from his part than what should have been necessary to pull away and sit back down. It also didn’t help that she was looking at him with those kiss-me-you-know-you-wanna eyes.
And boy, did he want to.
She smiled at him and he couldn’t help but smile back at her. How could he not? When she smiled, her eyes sparkled and her entire face lit up. It was dangerously contagious.
“Tell me, love,” he spoke after a moment of staring into her green eyes. Green like emeralds, jade, leaves of maple trees in the summer, gems… he was tempted to let himself get sidetracked into her eyes but he continued, “Why’d you run away? Why didn’t you just wait for me to explain?”
She lifted her cup to her lips and took a sip before answering him. He chuckled when she wrinkled her nose and pushed the room-temperature coffee away from her in disgust. When she finally answered him, it was slowly and deliberately, as if she was seriously pondering her answer. “Tired of rejection, I guess.”
Her answer surprised him. Who in their right minds would reject her? She was incredible!
“Love, only a crazy bloke would reject you.”
She laughed at him and teased, “Hm. I thought you said only a ‘crazy bloke’ would put up with me.”
“Two completely different types of crazy, princess,” he grinned.
“Oh. I see.”
He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the edge of the table separating them. “Yes, it’s not even comparable.”
“You’re not even making sense!” she exclaimed.
“I’m making perfect sense,” he said reasonably, “The nutter who rejected you is a quitter. That, and he’s obviously blind, deaf, and dull as a table lamp. Whereas, the nutter who puts up with you is crazy for you, you see?”
“Ooh, I wonder who that might be,” she teased him.
“Well, let’s see,” he decided to play along, “He’s talented, he’s funny, you have the hots for him…”
“Oh! J.J. from the Power’s in the Pistol?”
He blinked at her, then sent her a small glare, “Very funny, love.” How did she do that to him? He crossed his arms across his chest.
“Just kidding, baby,” she reached out and tugged on an arm until it came loose. Spike couldn’t believe how he became a pliable doll in her hands. “But it was funny.”
“Yeah. A riot.” He tried to be indifferent, but was failing miserably. Her epidemic of a smile was getting to him and he felt the corners of his lips being tugged up by some unexplainable, invisible force.
Buffy regarded him for a bit, then decided, “I like it when you squirm.”
“Oy! Who’s squirming?”
“You, dummy.”
“Who’re you calling dummy?” He couldn’t help himself as he swiftly moved over to her side of the booth and tickled her.
“Ahh! Stop it!” her uncontrollable laughter mounted and she writhed under his wriggling fingers.
“Yeah, who’s squirming now, huh, kitten?” He taunted her, not letting up with the tickling. Suddenly, she pressed herself to him and assailed him with her lips.
That’s one way to do it, he groaned as his fingers went slack and his arms moved to circle her waist. It was then that he came to the conclusion that she was, quite possibly, the best kisser in the world.
The heat rose a great deal as he felt her tongue gliding against his and heard her moan into his mouth. She took his lower lip between her teeth and gently pulled, bringing forth a low growl from the back of his throat. Fuck, she was so sexy...
“Mmm,” she kissed her way to his ear and whispered, “That is so hot.”
He pushed her up against the wall end of the booth and kissed the words right from her lips. “Hot, huh?” he purred into her mouth, making her whimper and pull at his shoulders. He growled into her ear again and she giggled softly before pulling his head back so she could kiss him again.
“The owner’s giving us a look,” she said, breathlessly, “let’s get out of here.”
Spike turned his head and indeed, the man behind the counter looked like he was about to kick them out of the coffeehouse.
“Yeah, lets.”
AN: There's officially two more chapters after this. They're both drafted and almost ready. I really, really hope you guys have enjoyed this so far and stick with me until the very end. You wont be disappointed!! At least... I hope not!
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