Neither Buffy or Spike knew how much time had passed in the closet. It would have been impossible to tell, even with gigantic clocks plastered all over the walls that chimed and announced every minute on the minute how much time they had spent in there. Spike and Buffy were in their own little world in that closet. Nothing, not the oppressiveness of school or the past, of Buffy’s superficial friends, or Spike’s hateful attitude, were in that room. The room was untainted. It was like a safe haven. A place where they could just act out on the obvious feelings they had for each other. A place where they could madly make out.
Spike started licking Buffy’s neck. So... delicious... amazingly soft...
“Is this a cure...” he took another lick, making Buffy shiver, “or is this a disease?”
A shimmer of hope filled Buffy at that. Spike was actually considering her as something more than malaria, possibly even the antidote for malaria. Maybe this could actually be something bigger than lust. The lust was great, sure, but Spike was different to Buffy. Spike rightfully hated Buffy, and yet he encouraged her to become something in life and tried his damn hardest to get her there. Spike was one of the few people that knew Buffy, the real Buffy, not the fake one she put on every day. The only person that didn’t run away screaming when they found out her life was...
“Definitely a disease,” he concluded as he took another long lick at her neck. Again Buffy was crushed by his words, but she didn’t allow the feelings to get to her, too lost in the moment to care. “But if ever a cure, a placebo...”
The door suddenly opened. The light blinded them. There was plenty of light in the closet, but light from the actual world seeped into the room now. It was a wake up call. Their little world had become tainted. Everything was back to normal because of the light and the door.
It was the janitor. He looked like Jim Carrey.
Buffy and Spike immediately pulled away and looked at all the very intriguing and alluring cleaning products in the room. I mean, really, the school had quite an array of cleaning supplies. It was really quite amazing. Spike thought they should steal it all and start a maid business. They’d be set for years.
The janitor chuckled, interpreting the twosome’s presence in the room as, obviously, what it was. “Didn’t mean to interrupt...” He sounded like Jim Carrey, too.
“Oh, you didn’t interrupt anything,” Buffy quickly started, but regretted that she said that, not knowing where she stood with Spike.
“Yeah, we was just gonna...” Spike snatched a bottle of Draino from a shelf, “gonna clean the pipes.” It took Spike a second to realize the sexual connotation of what he just said. He winced.
“I just need to get a broom,” the janitor stated, “to sweep a chimney or something,” he winked at Spike, “and then I’ll be out of your way...”
“Oh, we were just leaving,” Buffy nervously announced, nudging her head to the door, trying to signal Spike to leave. She thinks this is embarrassing for her? What about me? I’m the soddin’ guy who hates her. Shows what type of person I am, snoggin’ the bleedin’ enemy.
Spike suddenly found himself out of the closet without really knowing how he got there. He thought Buffy might have pushed him because she was outside, too. The Draino was still in hand.
“Got what we needed, I guess,” Spike stated as he held the bottle in the air with a little jingle.
The janitor laughed. “I bet you did.”
Buffy and Spike quickly scurried away from the closet and over to the assembly. They both knew the janitor wouldn’t say anything, but if anyone from school caught them... well, it would be end of everything. End of this... this fiery relationship fueled by pity? Sounds more like a relief.
“What is this, Buffy?” Spike asked as they walked through the halls. “Because it certainly isn’t—”
“I know,” Buffy sighed out. “This isn’t anything to you. You despise me. It’s just one dimensional lust from a one dimensional infatuation...”
Spike stopped and tossed the Draino so the bottle rolled back down the hall. “Buffy, you’re not one dimensional.” He put his hand on her shoulder, making her jump a little from the electric shock. “If anything, you’re the most multi-dimensional person I’ve ever met. You’re like a bleedin’ Coldplay song without the meaningless clichés...”
Buffy was warmed by Spike’s kindness, but also curious as to why he was being so nice to her. Spike was so hot-and-cold; one minute he wanted to humiliate her in front of the entire school and the next he was giving her motivational speeches. A ferocious pit bull on the outside with an inner golden retriever tucked away.
“Why are you so nice to me sometimes?” Buffy looked to the side. “I don’t deserve that from you. It’s not because of my life, is it?” She pierced his eyes with hers. “I don’t want pity from you, I think I already told you that. I’d hate you if this was all because of...”
Spike looked down from her gaze. Hit the nail right on the head with that one. “It’d be a pity to see the school system produce another burger flipper when they could do so much better...” he mumbled. Partially true, at least.
“That didn’t answer the question,” Buffy replied, a little irritation scathing her voice.
Spike decided he’d change the subject. And to help with this u-turn, he’d be blunt. “You want me?”
Now it was Buffy’s turn to look down. “Yeah... I guess...”
“Good, ‘cause I get these pangs of insanity where I want you, too,” Spike allowed, not ashamed of his feelings now that he knew Buffy was feeling the same way. “What about Captain Cardboard?”
“What about Riley?” Buffy started pacing with Spike to the gym again. “Your nicknames pretty much sum him up... he’s safe... he knows everything about me, too... it’s not like I’m gonna break up with him or anything because of you.”
Spike ran into a locker. He didn’t know how that happened. Bloody hell! I’m not suppose to care about shit like that in this fucked up relationship, if you can even call it that.
She continued, picking up on his distress. “You made it quite clear that this is nothing... I’m your curse.” Buffy looked glum, but quickly started to perk up. “Besides, perks come with being the football captain’s girlfriend. We used to have the whole cafeteria to ourselves...”
Spike grinned coolly. “m’ changing things around here...”
“Does one of those changes...”
“...include having you?” Spike finished for her. Screw it. Want. Take. Have. “Yeah... What’s the saying, mind over matter? Definitely matter over mind for me. ‘least when I’m around you... you’re a tumor in my head... an anchor on my heart... and everything’s just black... you’re my disease.”
Spike was really destroying Buffy. He was making her drink hot molten lava. He was eviscerating her slowly and painfully with a dull knife. It was like he had dulled the guillotine’s blade purposely so it would take multiple tries to get the job done. None of this salt on the wound bullshit; he was openly throwing haymakers at the wound now. If he was trying to get back at her, he was doing a damn good job at it.
They reached the gym at the exact same time it was dismissed. They missed the prank. Spike knew what happened, though; Faith filled some balloons with paint and had some of her people drop them on the populars, who were seated in their pretty jerseys and uniforms on the ground opposite the entire school. She probably threw a stink bomb or two in their just for good measure. It was probably really vindicating, but Spike didn’t much care. He had been in heaven, and that was a good enough excuse to miss it. Wait... heaven? Heaven or hell?
Spike quickly shook that thought off by laughing at some football players and cheerleaders that exited the gym. They were completely covered, head to toe, in white paint. They all looked like slimmer versions of Frosty the Snowman. With bad hair. And yellow teeth.
Cordelia came up to them. Her clothes were soaking wet, but there was no sign of paint; she must have gotten it off by quickly hosing herself down. Spike couldn’t have imagined the pleasure Angel got from seeing Cordelia all wet. Well, I guess he could have. Just switch Buffy for Cordelia and there you go...
“Where were you?” Cordelia started to Buffy, but she was looking curiously at Spike. It almost felt like Cordelia was interested in Spike, like she wanted to jump his bones or something. Normally, Spike would happily oblige to Cordelia’s offering in a heartbeat – she was a pretty brunette with nice vibrant earthy colorings, after all. She was Spike’s type physically, if he even had one. But Angel... and Buffy... Buffy the Plague. Yeah, she’s definitely a plague, ‘mate.
“Um... I was... sort of tied up,” Buffy replied in a squeaky voice, clasping her fingers.
“Tied up, eh? With him?” Cordelia pointed suggestively at Spike.
Buffy interjected quickly. “Oh, no! Spike and I were just...”
“Working on some derivatives and stuff,” Spike finished for her in a flat tone.
“Uh huh.” Cordelia winked at Buffy. “Derivatives and stuff. Sure you were.” Cordelia knew her best friend better than anyone else. “A man like that is tutoring you...”
“Would everyone stop it with the speculations?” Buffy moaned, thinking of the Jim Carrey janitor and now her best friend. “It’s getting rather annoying.”
Cordelia smiled. “Fine.” She did her best giddy look. “I broke up with Parker just now.”
“That’s great, Cordy,” Buffy replied dully. “Now you can...”
“...date guys from UC Sunnydale? I know, I know!” Cordelia was starting to look really happy. She hadn’t noticed Buffy’s apparent lack of interest.
Spike took this as his opportunity to duck out. The last thing he wanted to hear about was the “oh so hot” college guys. He decided that he should tell Angel about Cordelia’s singularity. Pointy haired man might act on it. Spike thought about Buffy. Especially now...
Yes, yes, I *know* Spike is kind of being really cruel to Buffy. I guess it’s just his way of getting back at her. But she deserves it. Gotta tell me how much you hate me for it, but realize that it just makes everything that much more... I dunno, tragic. Angel/Cordelia will be in this fic, although definitely not the main focus.