Swings and Roundabouts
Chapter Four
“No bloody way.”
“Oh, come on!” Anne pleaded, and tugged on his arm, pulling him towards the lit-up entrance to the bar. “It’ll be fun!”
“No. I said I’d dance, and that’s it.” Spike glared. “I’m not doing bloody karaoke.”
“Spoilsport.” Anne pouted. “Let’s go in here, anyway. They make a mean cocktail.”
Spike looked at her, surprised. “I thought you knew that I wasn’t drinking tonight, pet.”
“There’s a difference between drinking yourself stupid on your own in a graveyard, and having a few drinks in a bar.” Grabbing his hand, Anne pulled him to the queue lining up outside the club.
Distracted by the feel of her hand in his, Spike didn’t resist, and allowed himself to be dragged along. The karaoke bar in question was called Caritas, and had a brightly-lit sign illuminating the sidewalk outside. Judging by the queue, it was a pretty popular venue.
When the bouncer on the door waved them in, not asking to see an I.D., Spike wondered again how old Anne was. He would put her in her mid-twenties, but she had one of those faces that moved between seeming old and young, depending on her expression.
“How old are you, love?” Spike asked, holding the door open for her.
“Didn’t your mother ever tell you it was rude to ask a lady her age?” Anne said, her tone playful. “I’m twenty-seven. Three years away from the big three-oh. You?”
Chuckling, Spike answered, “Speeding away in the other direction. I’m thirty-four, pet.”
“Wow.” Anne looked shocked. “I’d never have guessed. You could pass for ten years younger, easily.”
Spike sighed, dramatically. “We all have our crosses to bear.”
Anne stuck out her tongue, and pulled him further into the bar, weaving their way through the tables and chairs until they found an empty booth.
***
“This is bloody painful,” Spike said, gesturing with his beer bottle towards the brightly lit stage. A middle-aged mutton-dressed-as-lamb was currently belting her heart out to Whitney Houston’s Greatest Love of All, assaulting the ears of everyone else in the club.
“Yeah.” Anne wrinkled her nose. “You go up and show them how it’s done.”
“No.”
“Go on.”
“Nope. Not doing it.” Spike shook his head for emphasis.
“I bet you have a great voice,” Anne said, sipping at her rum and coke. “All sexy and growly.”
“I can hold a tune, yeah,” Spike said, purposefully ignoring her second comment. “But there’s no way in hell you’re getting me up on that stage.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, Anne pouted. “You’re no fun.”
Spike swallowed, his eyes flicking between her full lips and where her arms had pushed her breasts together. He looked away, and nervously swigged his beer. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her slump in her seat and frown.
An uncomfortable silence descended between them and Spike didn’t know how to break it. He opened his mouth several times, but he couldn’t think of what to say. He got the impression that he had offended her somehow.
Moments later, Anne stood. “I’m going to the bathroom.” Hurrying out of the booth and towards the ladies, she didn’t spare him a second glance.
***
Metaphorically banging his head on the table, Spike groaned. “You’re an idiot. Fuck.”
“So, what did you do to piss off the little lady you were with, Sweet-cheeks?”
Spike looked up, surprised to see that yes, the man in the shockingly green suit was talking to him. “Uh…”
“I’m Lorne, owner of this fabulous establishment.” The man slid into the seat across from Spike and winked. “And I absolutely won’t have any of my clientele looking as sad as you do right now. So, what can I do to cheer you up?”
Spike stared, not sure what to make of the man but deciding to just go with the flow. He’d been lucky in that regard already that night.
“How about a drink on the house?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of having you come and sing us a song,” Lorne replied. “Karaoke, always good for the soul.”
“No offence, mate,” Spike said. “But if—as you put it—my little lady couldn’t get me up there to sing, you’re not going to have much luck.”
“Well, well.” Lorne tutted. “So that’s what got her in such a tizzy? How about this, then? You come on stage and show us what you’ve got, and the rest of your drinks tonight are on the house. What do you say?”
“Why are you so insistent that I sing?” Spike asked, unable to help feeling sceptic at Lorne’s more-than-generous offer.
Lorne shrugged. “I told you, I don’t like to see my patrons unhappy. The little blonde’s a regular, and this is the first time I’ve seen her looking even remotely cheery. And we want to keep that smile on her face, don’t we? So, what’s it gonna be?”
“Fine.” Spike swallowed down the rest of his drink, and stood up. He took a moment to peer in the direction of the ladies loos, but saw no sign of Anne. He hated the thought that he had upset her, but perhaps when he started singing, she would re-emerge. “I’m holding you to the free drinks, mate.”
“You’ve got it.” Lorne winked again, and whirled away. “I’ll let Pablo know that any money from the blond with the gorgeous cheekbones is no good in my bar tonight!”
Spike laughed, and shook his head as he strode towards the stage. The night was just getting more peculiar by the minute.
***
Spike closed his eyes at the opening strains of Behind Blue Eyes, gripping the microphone tight, and trying not to think of the watching crowd.
This was the most exposed he had let himself get in years; after Dru’s death, he had been withdrawn and lonely, only coming out of his shell when Claire needed him. While he sang, it felt like a weight was being lifted from his shoulders. He felt freer than he had in a long time, and it was a good feeling. Like he was standing on a precipice, and just one step forwards would send him flying over the edge.
When the song drew to a close, he opened his eyes and scanned the audience. There she was. Near the back, swaying slightly to the music, that same secret smile on her face.
Winking at her and feeling emboldened by the way she bit her lip and ducked her head, he finished the song with a bow and jumped down off the stage, making a beeline for Anne.
He had almost made it to her, intent on doing something—kiss her, hug her, just something—when Lorne intercepted him, patting him on the back and offering him a new bottle of beer.
Momentum lost, he frowned and walked the remaining few feet to where Anne stood.
“Well, you sang,” she said, when he stopped in front of her.
“I did.”
“You were great.” She took his hand in hers. “I’m impressed.”
“Yeah?” Spike didn’t protest when she took the beer from him, and set it down on an empty table.
“Yeah. All sexy and growly, like I thought.” She grabbed his other hand and laced her fingers through his. “Very sexy.”
It was at that point that Spike knew resistance was futile. Something about that girl had captured his heart, making it beat for the first time in years. She was an enigma, a mystery, a soul just as lost as he was, and he wanted her. Wanted to jump off that cliff. Desperately.
So, when she pulled him onto the dance floor, her arms around his neck and her body pressed tightly to his, he let her.
-TBC-
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you for the reviews last chapter! Thanks again to Sotia for beta reading. Hope you enjoy this chapter. :)
Chapter End Notes:
Thanks for reading, please let me know what you thought in a review!