Author's Chapter Notes:
I finally went ahead and wrote a sequel, thanks to the people who put the idea in my head.

Thank you to Carla and Marilyn for beta reading. I wouldn't be coherent without these ladies. Any remaining mistakes are mine and not theirs.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, settings, or songs. For fun, not profit.
“I have you this time you pesky lung-killing chimney,” Buffy said as she swung her axe at the back of the demon’s head, having flipped over it to avoid a head-on attack.

She was mid-swing when it dropped to the ground and kicked out a foot that she narrowly sidestepped. Her swing tilted her off balance and made her stumble sideways. Once she steadied herself, she looked up and recognized the signs of its impending and most loathed attack.

“Shit!”

She clapped her free hand over her nose and mouth, springing back a couple of steps, as it exhaled the long stream of thick black smoke at her. Holding her breath, she waved as much of the smoke as possible away from her, trying desperately to remove the cause of said smoke—before---yep, the inevitable disappearance of her newest nemesis. She slumped her shoulders and let her axe drop to hang heavily against her leg.

God damn it, every single time! As soon as I get near enough, it just does something new and spews smoke. How the heck am I gonna kill the damn thing?

Needless to say, Buffy was losing patience with her new foe. She’d been hunting the thing for two weeks and nothing. Not even a scratch. She counted off all her failed attempts. The crossbow from a distance hadn’t worked, and neither had the dagger she hurled at it, its thick skin needing more force behind the blow. Up close, all it had to do was use its smoke defense, or offence, and she’d be back to crazy, tripping Buffy, and that was something that was never in a million years going to ever, under any circumstances happen again, nor even be spoken about. She’d used a vast number of her best moves trying to outmaneuver the thing so she could strike, but unfortunately all the practice had it pretty much wise to her attacks, so it anticipated her moves and countered them.

That thing’s more adaptable than Spike.

She groaned loudly, halted in her tracks, and slapped a palm to her forehead, as unwanted images rushed into her brain and brought on a very much unneeded headache.

No, no, no. No thinking of the bleached doofus. No mention of his name. Just—no!

She shook her head violently, forcefully shoving any thoughts, memories or questions regarding he-who-was-never-to-be-mentioned-again-and-avoided-at-all-costs, away and continuing to Giles’ place to update him on another unsuccessful hunt.

Stupid smoke demon. Why’d it have to end up in my town? Why does all the nasty stuff happen to me? Oh, yeah. Because I’m “Chosen,” and this is the Hellmouth. Have I mentioned lately how much I hate my life?

She grumbled and huffed the entire way to her Watcher’s house, swinging the axe angrily as she went. It was no wonder the streets were so quiet. Anyone, human or otherwise, who spotted the axe-wielding blonde soon took off in the opposite direction. When she reached Giles’ door, she walked in without knocking and banged it behind her. The Watcher was now used to such an entrance, stood up from his place on the couch to face her as she shrugged her jacket off and hung it up next to the door.

“I take it, it didn’t go very well then?” he asked, removing his glasses.

The Slayer sighed, her shoulders tensing, then drooping when she turned to face him, misery written all over her face and evidence of a slight pout developing on her lower lip.

“No. Stupid thing dodged again. I almost had it this time, Giles. It’s driving me nuts. How can something that’s clearly too stupid to leave when it isn’t getting a meal and is hunted every night, still manage to come up with a counter strategy that thwarts my every attempt to finish it?”

“Well it could be that it’s a territorial demon, one which has set up Sunnydale as its hunting ground. You are the only real threat to it, and since you aren’t having much luck at the moment, it probably sees no reason to abandon its new home.”

Buffy scowled at him and plopped down into a chair, crossing her arms, a full-blown pout on her face now.

“So how do I kill it? Isn’t there anything useful in that book about killing it without getting dosed by the hallucinogenic?”

Giles slowly began polishing his glasses, inspecting them as he spoke slowly and carefully. “Well, the fact is that the need to breathe makes fighting it rather difficult. Perhaps it would be best if we sought other help, say Spike, for example.” He raised his eyes to study her and was unsurprised by her stony glare.

“No way.”

“Buffy, I know you want to avoid him after your embarrassing situation, but that really wasn’t your fault, and as the Slayer it is your duty to protect people from this demon. Your approach hasn’t worked, so perhaps you could face-up to whatever teasing or rude remarks he may make, which doesn’t seem that different from his usual behavior anyway, and enlist his help in disposing of this problem.” Giles placed his glasses back on his face, waiting for her to see sense.

He was disappointed. She maintained her firm look, which plainly read, “Do not ever suggest that again” as she stared back at him.

Embarrassment? Sure, that’s one reason having him help isn’t going to happen, but believe me Giles, if you knew exactly what had happened under the effects of that smoke, you would be sharpening stakes right now, not urging me to pay him a visit. All the more reason to be far away from him when that smoke is involved. No sir, no repeats of what happened that night, oh no. Or the next day—not going there!

“Giles, Spike is of the very unhelpful kind. He enjoys stirring up trouble way beyond whatever we bribe him with. He said I was more pleasant when I was loony, which isn’t surprising if you consider his past girlfriends, but it also goes to show he could very well set me up to get blasted by that stuff again.”

So he could take advantage of me again. Use that stupid backward logic of his to make me forget who he really is until I’m straddling him and—again, not going there!

“Buffy, really, I understand your reluctance, but I really don’t see how else you can hope to fight this thing.”

“Maybe I do need help, but it won’t come from the blood-sucking creep. I just need him distracted. Hey, you and the Scoobs! You could come with me and help distract it, so I can get in a decent strike. You can keep out of range of the smoke, but let me get close enough to kill it.” The Slayer sat back, happy with that plan.

“Well, I suppose, but—“

“Great! Okay, I’ll go home, and we can organize tomorrow at the Magic Box before we head out. That demon will be done this time. Bye Giles.”

She was out the door before he could blink. Giles sighed and went to fix himself a drink. He had a bad feeling about this plan. Things often tended to go the opposite way to the way you hoped in these situations.

***

Buffy stalked through the cemetery purposefully, sword in hand. It was the last place she wanted to be, because it was Restfield Cemetery, but she was on a mission to put an end to this nuisance, and it hadn’t shown at any of its other usual haunts. Behind her, Xander and Giles strolled along at a casual pace. Xander held an axe over one shoulder while Giles gripped a crossbow.

“Explain to me why we’re doing this again,” Xander murmured to Giles, one eye observing the keen Slayer, whipping her head from left to right in search of her prey.

“Because Buffy needs a way to distract the demon, so she can kill it, and the others were too busy to help,” Giles responded tiredly.

Neither of the men wanted to be out here playing bait and decoy for a demon that could make them wacky with a whiff of its smoke attack, but Buffy insisted it was the best and only option they had.

“So we’re out here because Spike witnessed whatever she got up to last time this thing got her, and she never wants to see him again? What exactly did she do that was so bad? I mean, Dawn almost said something, but Buffy’s clearly bribed her.”

“I honestly don’t know what happened after she left my place, since she’s reluctant to talk about it, which doesn’t bother me, since I saw quite enough of her craziness then. I’m sure it’s nothing too horrific, or Dawn or Joyce would have said something. I think it’s more likely that she’s just paranoid Spike will let the demon get to her so he can see her out of it again. Considering his nature, I’m inclined to agree it’s possible.”

Xander opened his mouth to ask another question but noticed Buffy come to a halt in front of them. Both men stopped and waited. She turned around to face them, raising her sword. She frowned, lowering her head a little, looking sinister. Xander and Giles took a step back, then noticed she wasn’t looking at them. They turned and saw the demon standing a few feet behind them.

“Ah crap,” Xander said, stepping back and hoisting his axe in the air.

***

Spike hoisted the brown bag full of blood from the butcher’s higher up in his arms. He was puffing away on a cigarette, as he headed back to his crypt. Walking in the door, he dumped the bag on a sarcophagus and flicked the finished cigarette away only to replace it with a fresh one. He closed his eyes relishing the smoke as he inhaled, flicking his Zippo shut, and returning it to his duster pocket. Releasing a stream of blue smoke he made his way over to the fridge with his blood.

He’d been chain-smoking like crazy ever since the Slayer had gone into hiding. Spike considered himself an expert at popping up unannounced to ruin her day, but it appeared she just hadn’t been trying very hard to avoid him-then. Try as he might he hadn’t seen anything of the spunky little blonde woman in two weeks. The closest he’d gotten was under her window when she was asleep at night. He knew why she was doing her best to avoid him, and it amused, irritated, and consoled him all at the same time. Of course, he hadn’t expected her to approach him after “the incident” in his crypt that day. He knew he’d be the one that would have to pin her down, maybe even literally, to get her to listen to him. He just never expected it to be this hard. Her persistence in staying away from him was still a welcome sign that she clearly didn’t trust herself around him, and that was the only thing keeping him from giving up. She’d wanted that kiss, and it scared her senseless. Especially—since she might just want more—if she didn’t stay away.

Well little-miss-stick-up-her-arse won’t be getting away that easily. Sooner or later, she’ll run into me, an’ we’ll see how long she can keep her hot little hands off me then.

Spike smirked as he slammed the fridge door shut and walked over to the TV. He bent down to turn it on, when a noise outside caught his attention. He listened harder. It sounded like there was a commotion out there all right. He stood for a second, took another long drag of his cigarette, then headed out to see what the problem was.

Outside, Spike soon found the source of the noise. He sauntered over, leaned against a headstone, and observed the scene before him. Giles and the whelp were darting about, trying very hard to dodge his old pal the smoke demon and keep its attention off of Buffy, who was doing her best to cut the thing’s head off without it noticing. It was a funny sight, and Spike was rather enjoying it. He could also tell the plan was going to be a total failure.

“Guys, come on! I’m not getting a clean shot. Can’t you hold it for a minute?” she yelled, frustrated as it dodged another of her swings.

“Doing our best here, Buff!” Xander yelled back, jumping back when the demon faced him again.

“Yes, or would you prefer we got up close and let it administer the drug, so you can kill it?” Giles snapped, firing with the crossbow, the arrow bouncing uselessly off its back.

Spike chuckled to himself. More-so when he noticed the Slayer’s pause, as though she might be considering it, before the whelp’s frightened yelp dragged her back to the fight. If you could call it that. From where Spike was standing, it was like a comedy sketch. He’d spotted the demon out and about a few times. Sure, he could’ve taken care of it, but where was the fun in that? The fact that it wasn’t dead already meant the Slayer couldn’t handle it on her own. Her best bet was to ask him for help, but no, she was far too stubborn for that, wasn’t she? If he had killed it, he would’ve gotten nothing in return. Heck, she probably would have gotten pissed at him for doing her job. So Spike let it walk around, reassured that every night he spotted it was another step closer to the Slayer asking him for help. Clearly the bint was desperate to avoid him if she’d brought those two along as her back-up plan tonight.

Buffy practically growled as the pale white demon swung at her again, nearly knocking her down. Xander distracted it again, and she was waiting for an opening when she felt him.

Oh no. The universe can’t hate me that much, can it? Of course it can.

She glanced over to her left. Yup, there he was. Leaning against a headstone, smirk firmly in place, one hand bringing a cancer stick to his lips, the other in a typical Spike hand position-thumb hooked in his belt, hand framing his crotch, posing casually as if he was the sexiest thing on two legs.

Eyes on his face, eyes on his face. Eyes. On. His. Face.

She scowled at him. He arched an eyebrow.

“Need some help there, luv?” he asked innocently, tilting his head in the demon’s direction.

“No. Everything is perfectly under control without your help.” She sneered the last word, haughty as you please.

“That so? Reckon your friends would think different.”

She was about to reply when Giles’ voice calling her name made her look back at him. The demon had charged and was way too close. She saw its chest expand, shoulders hunched as it leaned forward.

“Crap!”

She rushed over, tackling the demon to the ground. It wasn’t the smartest move. It was already exhaling the smoke when she hit it. Both the men got a face full of the thick black cloud and coughed hoarsely. Buffy landed on top of the demon and inhaled a small amount of smoke in the air around her, but nowhere near the amount she’d had before. She blinked and whimpered, realizing what had just happened. The demon opened its mouth, and she was hauled backwards sharply until she found herself on her feet again. The demon took off. She tried to follow but was halted by a firm hand on her arm. She turned to face the owner of the offending hand, Spike.

“What?” she snapped, knowing the demon would escape again.

“Don’t think it’s a good idea for you to run off right now, pet. Got a little problem that needs taking care of first. Well, two large problems, actually.” He tilted his head to the right.

Buffy followed the direction of his head and saw what he meant. She groaned loudly. Xander and Giles were on the ground giggling hysterically. Giles was pulling at the grass and letting it fall through his fingers. Xander was pointing at him, guffawing like it was the most hilarious thing he’d ever seen.

“You got a bit of the smoke too didn’t you?” Spike asked, ignoring the two idiots on the ground.

“Not nearly as much as last time. It was barely anything,” she answered.

She was still eyeing her Watcher and Xander. She didn’t want to deal with this, but at least she wasn’t the one spacing out this time, although she did feel a little lightheaded. Suddenly she remembered whom she was talking to, and his question took on another meaning for her. She whipped around to face him and shoved him as hard as she could. He stumbled back a few steps and glared at her.

“Oi! What the hell was that for?”

“I didn’t get dosed up like before, so you can forget about whatever nasty scheme you had planned, if that thing got to me again. There will be no repeating of last time. You even come near me, and I swear I’ll stake you.”

He blinked.

So that’s what she thinks? That I’d intentionally get her high off demon smoke so I could kiss her again? Well that’s just all kinds of stupid now, isn’t it?

“Right. ‘Cause it was such an absolute pleasure babysitting you last time. I’ll admit the make-out session was an unexpected bonus, but trust me, luv, there is no way I want to follow you around, getting beaten up an’ chasing after you, an’ listening to soddin’ ‘Rock Lobster’ again. Besides, we both know I don’t need you drugged up to get you to kiss me again.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He took two steps forward, and she clenched her fists. He carried on anyway, stopping in front of her, looking down into her furious and somewhat anxious face.

“You weren’t exactly juiced up when you came to my crypt the next day, were you? High-tailed it out of there pretty fast too. Afraid of what might have happened if you stayed? Afraid of what you might let happen if you had’ve seen me again in the past two weeks?”

Buffy paused. He knew why she was avoiding him.

No, that’s not it. I wasn’t afraid of that. Of course, I wouldn’t kiss him again. There’s no way I’d let anything happen like that again. No, I just—didn’t want to hear him go on about it. Yeah, that’s why.

She was stalling too long, and he was too close. His eyes were too blue. Why couldn’t she stop looking at them? An arrow whizzed between them and embedded itself in a tree. They whirled round to face the source. Giles and Xander were sitting on the ground, chuckling away, legs spread in front of them as they sat on the grass, Giles trying to reload the crossbow.

“Whoa, guys, not good!” Buffy exclaimed, darting over to wrestle the weapons away from them.

Spike watched with wide eyes as she pried the highly dangerous implements away and stashed them in a bag Giles had brought, also including her sword. He was much happier to see the back of them. She slung the bag at him, and he stumbled as he caught it. He looked at her confusedly. She put her hands on her hips.

“Make yourself useful. I need to get them home.”

“When you say home…” he asked, swinging the bag over his shoulder.

“I mean my house. Mom’s gone to visit some friends for a couple of days, so it’s just Dawn and me. I need to keep an eye on them. The Magic Box is too dangerous, and so is Giles’ with all those artifacts and spell books. I’ll call Anya when we get there, and she can help take care of Xander.”

Buffy hauled Giles up first, then Xander. Keeping a firm hold of them both, she began marching them towards her house. Spike watched her walk past, sighed and followed her.

***

The walk home was really not fun. Xander and Giles were constantly twisting, swaying, and pulling away from her. Add to that the worrying fact that colors were much brighter than they should be, the grass almost a luminous green, even though it was dark out, and Buffy was ready to collapse at home and just stay there, letting the demon win and prowl about Sunnydale all it wanted.

“You okay?” Spike asked.

He’d noticed her staring at things as they walked by, shaking her head a little panicked as she figured the hallucinogenic was getting to her. He had taken hold of the whelp’s other arm when he saw how much trouble she was having with them.

Still not nearly as much trouble as I had with her.

“I’m fine. We’re almost there now. I’ll be fine.”

Giles held a hand up in front of him, staring at it, swaying it from side to side. Spike had a flashback to Woodstock as he watched the man doing the same thing. The whelp started shifting about nervously, so that Spike had to tighten his grip on his jacket. Upon closer inspection, he saw that Xander was clearly frightened, hopping away from shadows and glancing about nervously.

Let’s hope no bush demons attack, Spike thought, then smirked.

“Finally.” Buffy breathed a sigh of relief when they reached her house.

They had a little trouble on the step as she fiddled with her keys, and Spike had to keep control of Giles and Xander, and keep the bag of weapons away from them until Buffy could herd them all inside her house. They were barely in the door when the pitter-patter of teenage feet on the stairs sounded, and Dawn stood in front of them.

“Are we having a party I didn’t know about?” she asked, crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow at Buffy as she shut the front door. Then she noticed who was standing beside her sister. “Spike?”

“Nibblet.” He nodded at her, before herding the other two men into the living room.

Buffy removed her jacket and hung it up, then faced her sister, squinting a little at the bright lights inside the house.

“Hey Dawn. Look---”

“Spike’s here,” Dawn stated, staring at Buffy.

“Yes, we’ve established that. What?” Buffy frowned at the grin on her sister’s face.

“So, um, did you two make up or—make-out?”

Buffy’s jaw dropped. Dawn laughed. A mortified glance in the living room revealed Spike with his head down, biting his lip, clearly grinning. Buffy was outraged. She got her voice back at last.

“No! No, there was no---none of that of any kind! He just showed up when I was fighting the demon. Actually he distracted me, which is why we’re in this mess.” She glared pointedly at the vampire.

“Yeah, because things were going so well up to that point. All I did was ask if you wanted help, luv. If you hadn’t been so quick to throw back a bitchy retort, you might have been able to stop the demon before it did its thing.”

Dawn turned wide eyes on Buffy. “Oh my God, are you high again? I have to get the camera!”

Buffy grabbed her sister’s arm before the teen could run off.

“I am not high. Giles and Xander are. Can you help Spike watch them while I call Anya?”

Dawn deflated a bit when she realized she couldn’t stockpile any more dirt on Buffy. Then she cocked her head and observed Giles and Xander. Xander was feeling the drapes with a strange look on his face, and Giles was fascinated with his glasses, putting them on and taking them off repeatedly, blinking a few times in between.

“Sure, I can do that.” Dawn grinned and went to sit in the chair next to Xander while Spike lounged on the sofa next to Giles.

The vampire was aware of Dawn’s eyes on him. He kept his gaze focused on the Watcher until the feeling of being watched was getting to him too much.

“What?” he asked at last, turning to the smirking brunette.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here again. How come you’re always around when this kinda stuff happens?” she asked, arms folded.

Bloody hell, am I being asked about my intentions or what? Spike thought annoyed.

“Look, I told your sis, an’ I’m telling you, I didn’t set her up to take another hit from that thing if that’s what you’re thinking. As it happens they were outside my place when the whole thing went down. I just went out to see what was goin’ on is all. This has only happened twice, so I don’t think it’s fair to accuse me of anythin’ just because I happened to be around both times.”

“Geez, I was only saying. No need to get huffy. I guess Buffy didn’t take kindly to seeing you again though, huh?”

“If that isn’t the bloody understatement of the year.”

“Well you know why, don’t you? I mean I doubt it’s because of the demon.”

Spike leered at her and was satisfied to see her blush.

“Oh I know, Nibblet. Buffy doesn’t trust herself near me.”

“I thought maybe she staked you at first. You know, after she went to see you? But she wouldn’t talk about it, and if she staked you, I was sure she’d mention it at least.”

“Well she didn’t. Quite the opposite actually.”

Dawn furrowed her brow in confusion. Spike arched an eyebrow and grinned at her. Dawn’s eyes widened comically.

“No way. You mean you and Buffy…she kissed you again?”

“Well, more like I kissed her, but she didn’t seem to take issue with it at first, till she remembered who it was she was kissin’.”

Dawn let out a little squeal, then tried to contain her glee when she noticed a very pissed off Slayer in the doorway. Spike looked up when he noticed Dawn’s attention was elsewhere and found himself staring into a pair of glittering green eyes that promised murder.

“Spike? What have you been telling my sister?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Judging by your face right now, I think lying’s out of the question, don’t you? So I told her whatever you just heard me tell her---the truth.”

Dawn had time to look from Buffy to Spike and back again before Buffy exploded or, well, kind of exploded, maintaining a relative calm for Dawn’s sake.

“Spike!” she shouted, marching the short distance to the couch, hoisting him up by his duster and dragging him through the hall and into the dining room where she shoved him out of Dawn’s sight, but maintained a death grip on his coat.

“Easy Slayer! No need to get your knickers twisted. Dawn already knows you an’ I kissed. She might as well know it wasn’t the only time.”

“You,” she started pointing a finger at his face, venom in her eyes, “do not get to tell anyone about that! Not even Dawn. What happened - that was a mistake - understand? A big mistake, and you kissed me before I even…just keep your mouth shut from now on, got it?”

“I dunno, luv.” Spike smirked, giving her that half-lidded gaze again. “You got another use for my mouth?”

Buffy’s jaw dropped for the second time. Spike wagged his eyebrows and curled his tongue behind his teeth, leaning in a bit closer.

“You—I—you—how dare you? No, no! Wait, I d-didn’t…” Buffy stuttered, remembering all too well what happened the last time she dared him not to do something, stepping back a little, then stumbling a bit, only then realizing she hadn’t released his coat.

Spike chuckled at her nervous behavior, also noticing she hadn’t let go of his duster. Actually, he noted with interest, she didn’t appear to be thinking of letting go anytime soon either, her hand no longer in a death grip. Slowly it started running up and down his arm, stroking the leather. He stared at it for a second, then turned to face the Slayer, at a loss as to what she might be doing. Buffy herself looked to be in some kind of trance, staring at her hand mesmerized.

“Uhm, Buffy, not that I mind, but what exactly are you doin’?” he asked gently, as though talking to a frightened animal that might bolt any second, probably because she would.

“Hmm?” she asked, not really paying attention, too focused on his jacket.

So soft. So smooth.

Buffy didn’t really know why she was so fascinated by his leather duster, but suddenly the feeling of it just seemed so—so…

“This is the demon smoke kickin’ in again isn’t it? All right, Slayer paws off. Best get back to the others, yeah? If it’s getting’ to you, who knows what it’s doin’ to those two.” Spike tried to shrug her off, and Buffy pouted.

“Oh come on Spike, lemme stroke it, please?” she begged.

Spike choked on air, and Buffy’s eyes widened when her innuendo registered. The frightened rabbit look was back. Spike smirked.

“I-I didn’t—I don’t—that didn’t come out right.”

“Oh come on, Slayer,” Spike said, inching closer. Buffy let go of his duster as if it was burning her and backed up until she was trapped between the table and him. “I think it came out just fine.”

Not good, not good, not good, Buffy’s brain chanted, while tingles ran through her at his closeness. Seriously not good.

He lifted a hand and let it trail down through her blonde locks. Buffy swallowed. His other hand came up to rest at her side. He closed the gap, Buffy’s hands coming up to his chest but lacking the strength to push him away. Music erupted from the living room, blaring through the house, distracting Spike and shocking Buffy into twisting away from him.

“Guys can you get in here please?” Dawn called loudly over the music.

With a last side-long glance at the vampire, Buffy raced into the living room, Spike following. Pausing in the doorway, they took in the sight before them. Dawn was trying to untangle Xander, who had managed to get caught up in the drapes. He was successfully twisting himself into them even worse, despite the teen’s best efforts. Giles was the one who had set off the music and was fiddling with the knobs on the stereo, flicking through a range of stations, nodding along to the various beats.

“Giles, stop with the music please. It’s not a toy,” Buffy said, rushing over to battle with her Watcher.

Spike couldn’t help himself. He started laughing. Buffy tried to grab Giles but the older man hopped away from her, and so began a chase around the living room, between the coffee table and the furniture. Buffy pounced and made another grab at him, but Giles dodged by jumping up on the sofa. Suddenly, a very familiar song came blaring through the speakers just as Dawn got Xander free and they noticed Giles on the couch.



Music can be found here



U can’t touch this

U can’t touch this

U can’t touch this

U can’t touch this



Giles began bouncing up and down on the cushions, arms in the air. Xander started giggling and clapping, and Dawn gaped at the stuffy Englishman she thought she knew.



My-my-my-my (U can’t touch this) music hits me so hard

Makes me say, “oh my lord thank you for blessing me

With a mind to rhyme and two hyped feet”

It feels good

When you know you’re down

A superdope homeboy from the Oaktown

And I’m known as such

And this is a beat-uh!

U can’t touch…



Buffy lunged at her mentor, only to be evaded again as he leaped over the coffee table, landing on the living room floor and spinning to face them, punching the air triumphantly. Xander clapped his hands in glee and joined the older man. Both started to dance to the music and sing along. Dawn and Buffy gaped.





You can’t touch this



Fresh new kicks and pants

You got it like that now you know you wanna dance

So move out of your seat

And get a fly girl and catch this beat

While it’s rolling

Hold on

Pump a little bit and let ‘em know it’s going on

Like that

Like that …



The doorbell rang, and Buffy shook off her stunned look and ran to answer it, elbowing Spike, who by this time was doubled over with laughter.

“Not helping, Spike!” she yelled, opening the door to Anya.

He ignored her, took one look at Anya’s face as she walked into the mad-house, glanced back to the two M.C. Hammers, and broke down in hysterics again.





Yo, sound the bells, school is in, sucker

U can’t touch this

Give me a song or rhythm

Making ‘em sweat

That’s what I’m giving ‘em

Now they know

You talk about the Hammer, you’re talking about a show

That’s hyped and tight

Singers are sweating so pass them a wipe

Or a tape to learn

What it is going to take in the ‘90’s

To burn the charts





“What’s going on here?” Anya asked, dumbfounded as she watched Xander and Giles doing a surprisingly good rendition of “Can’t Touch This.”

“It’s the smoke they inhaled. They’re loopy,” Buffy answered, frowning at Spike who still hadn’t let up with the laughing, annoyed that she was finding it kind of adorable.

“Hang on!” Dawn ran off before Buffy could blink and returned, quick as a flash with a video camera just in time to catch the killer dance moves.



Break it down



Spike looked over at the men again, got an image of them in flash pants, and ended up on the floor howling with laughter, clutching his stomach. Buffy glared, but it did little good. It was infectious. Dawn did her best to hold the camera steady, giggling the whole time, and Buffy soon found her mouth twitching to the point she couldn’t ignore it anymore. After another look at the men, she broke down in laughter herself, getting a very vivid image of them wearing gold flash pants.



Stop…Hammer time



Go with the flow It is said

That if you can’t groove to this

Then you probably are dead

So wave your hands in the air

Bust a few moves, run your fingers through your hair

This is it for a winter

Dance to this an’ you’re gonna get thinner

Move slide your rump

Just for a minute, let’s all do the bump

Bump, bump, bump

Yeah, U can’t touch this

Look man,

U can’t touch this

You better get hyped

Boy ‘cause you know ya can’t

U can’t touch this

Ring the bell, school’s back in

Break it down



Anya actually started clapping and shuffling along with the beat that just made the others laugh harder. Spike stood up with difficulty, still laughing, and nudged Buffy.

“Go on then, pet, round ‘em up, unless o’ course you can’t touch ‘em.”

Buffy rolled her eyes dramatically at him, but couldn’t keep the grin off her face as she watched her father figure and one of her closest friends dance and rap as if they’d been at this double-act all their lives.



Stop. Hammer time



The others actually found themselves nodding to the beat too, the entire situation overwhelmingly ridiculous, yet also refreshingly light-hearted. They hadn’t had a good laugh in ages.



U can’t touch this

U can’t touch this

U can’t touch this

Break it down



Stop. Hammer time.



Every time you see me

The Hammer’s just so hyped

I’m dope on the floor

And I’m magic on the mike

Now why would I ever

Stop doing this?

When others making records

That just don’t hit

I’ve toured around the world

From London to the Bay

It’s Hammer, go Hammer, M.C. Hammer, Yo Hammer

And the rest can go and play

Can’t touch this



U can’t touch this

U can’t touch this

Yeah, U can’t touch this

I told you, U can’t touch this

Too hype, can’t touch this

Yo, we outta here, can’t touch this



As the music faded out, Buffy pulled herself together enough to switch off the stereo before one of the neighbors called the cops. Anya grabbed hold of Xander, who swayed for a second before recognizing her and squeezing her in a bear hug.

“Anya, love of my life! You’re here!”

“Xander, honey, the love of your life needs to breathe,” Anya gasped pushing back until he released her somewhat. Giles pouted at the loss of music and headed for the stereo. Spike grabbed his arm and led him back to the couch.

“Easy old man, we don’t want you to break something now, do we? Well, you don’t. I might, but only ‘cause I’m evil.”

“Yeah, because really evil guys always roll around the floor laughing-” Buffy started.

“At others misfortune.” Spike finished grinning.

Buffy frowned. “Shut up.”

“Nice retort, luv.”

“What do we do?” Anya asked, interrupting Buffy who had just opened her mouth for another good come-back.

“Not much we can do, except wait it out. You could take Xander home I think. He doesn’t seem so bad. Just keep a good grip on him, and watch out for sudden movements,” Buffy answered.

“How much longer do you think it’s gonna last?” Dawn queried, putting down the camcorder at last.

Spike glanced at the clock. “Not much longer. Matter of fact it’s getting’ about time for…”

“I’m hungry,” Giles announced, and Xander nodded.

“…the munchies,” Spike finished, smirking.

“Wonderful,” Buffy said with a sigh. “Well, let’s get ‘em fed, and they should crash after that, if it works the same way it did with me.” She purposely avoided Spike’s eye. “Dawn, you wanna help?”

Dawn gave her an obvious look.

“Tough, you’re helping anyway.” The Slayer ignored her sister’s eye roll and led the way to the kitchen to rustle up some sandwiches, praying there was enough food in the house.

***

Minutes later, Dawn and Buffy re-entered with a plate stacked with sandwiches and a pitcher of juice just as Joyce had prepared for Buffy.

“Let’s hope I don’t walk in on Spike and Giles making out on the sofa this time,” Dawn whispered to Buffy just before they entered the room.

“Dawn! Eww!” Buffy hissed back, unprepared for that mental image.

Luckily there were no make-out sessions going on this time, although Anya was doing her best to restrain Xander, who seemed intent on trying to stick his head into the fireplace to look for Santa Claus, while Spike was having his own troubles with Giles poking him in the chest.

“Will you cut that out before I make you bloody cut it out, chip or no chip!” Spike snapped, shifting away from Giles as he poked him again.

Clearly Giles was unfazed by the threat as he followed Spike, edging further away on the couch and continuing to harass the increasingly ticked off vamp.

“Food guys,” Buffy called, and suddenly she had their full attention, Santa and vampires be damned.

Giles and Xander squatted on the floor, tucking heartily into the food. Anya sank into one of the chairs, exhausted from trying to handle Xander. Dawn skipped over and plunked herself down in the other one before Buffy could get there, meaning the only available seat left was on the couch, next to Spike. He leaned back into the cushions and grinned at her, glancing at the empty space next to him. Bunching her fists, Buffy raised her head higher and sat down, trying not to let his nearness faze her. It was working, until he shifted in his seat, and his knee brushed against her leg. She jumped and squirmed a little further down the couch.

“Did you at least kill the demon after all this trouble?” Anya asked.

Buffy was grateful for the distraction from Spike’s telling smirk at her jumpiness.

“Sadly no. Somehow I don’t see them being so eager to help me again either,” Buffy commented, gesturing to the two men on the floor.

“Guess you’ll have to look for help elsewhere then, won’t you?” Spike said, arching an eyebrow at her.

Buffy nodded in agreement.

“Yep. I think I’ll wait until Willow’s free. Magic should work, and it can be used from a distance.”

Dawn snorted, and Spike rolled his eyes. Anya leaned forward and petted Xander’s head, making the man grin like an idiot.

“If you ask me Spike would be the better choice. I mean, not needing to breathe would make him more capable right?” Anya said, missing Buffy’s dismayed look.

“Yeah, pet. Not breathing makes me much more capable in certain---areas.” He gave her a long slow look that made her squirm uncomfortably again.

Oh my God, how does he do that? It’s like he’s touching every inch of me with just his eyes. And that voice. How can anyone do that with their voice?

Buffy hadn’t missed the sly purr he’d used when he mentioned the word “areas.” The leer he was giving her left her in no doubt as to what areas he’d be very good in and knowing Spike’s bragging rights, she had no doubt he would be more than good in those areas.

Stop it! Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him.

Averting her gaze to look anywhere but at Spike, Buffy noticed the guys had polished off their meal and were seated much more contentedly on the floor licking their fingers.

“I think it’s time we got them settled for the night. Dawn, why don’t you keep an eye on Giles, while I help Anya get Xander moving. Actually Spike, you should probably help her take him home. It’s a long way to walk with him in this state."

“Oh that’s okay,” Anya interrupted cheerily. “I’ve been taking driving lessons since the Olaf incident when I took Giles’ car. I liked driving, and it makes moving around much easier when I can transport myself now that teleportation is out.”

Buffy wanted to smack her. Then she wanted to smack Spike for the victorious smirk he shot at her.

“Fine. I’ll help you get him to the car,” Buffy said through gritted teeth.

“I’ll help,” Spike said, grabbing one of Xander’s arms.

“No, you can stay and help Dawn with Giles. I’ve got him,” Buffy answered, pulling on her friend’s other arm.

“No, no, I insist,” Spike replied, helping Xander stand up and continuing towards the door.

“It’s really unnecessary,” Buffy shot, tugging Xander along.

Dawn and Anya watched as the two hauled the bemused brunet to the front door. Anya rushed over to open it, and the trio stumbled outside and down the front steps with Buffy and Spike continuing to bicker.

“Come on, luv. I’m the one with experience handling people under the effects of that smoke, an’ you got a bit of it yourself. Don’t want you singin’ ‘Rock Lobster’ again and droppin’ the whelp to dance around the place, do we?”

“The B52s’ song?” Anya asked.

“I’m perfectly fine now. Yes the B52s’ song. It was the smoke,” Buffy responded, glaring at Spike.

“Oh, I’ve always been partial to ‘Quiche Lorraine’ myself,” Anya stated.

That was a bad idea. Springing to life, Xander suddenly jumped up, dislodging the blonds’ grip on him and started to sing.



Music can be found here



The skies are charcoal grey,

It’s a dreary downtown day,

But at the end of my 40 foot leash,

Is my little friend Quiche.

Quiche La Poodle is her name

And having a good time on a crummy day is our game



Quiche Quiche Lorraine

Quiche Quiche Lorraine



Xander grabbed Anya around her waist from behind and began swinging her around at a dizzying speed, ignoring her squeals. Buffy stared, and Spike groaned, raising his head to the heavens.

“Not a-bloody-gain. First you and now him. What is it about the B52s and you people?”

Buffy turned to scowl at him, but couldn’t help wondering the same thing. A much happier squeal from Anya caught their attention, and they turned to see that she was no longer annoyed by Xander’s actions, instead laughing and swaying along with him as he twirled her around the driveway.



Everyday I take her out. Yea!

She runs around, she shouts out and barks, Yea!

Cause she’s a good doggie

She’s a sweet, sweet, sweet PUPPY! Arf Arf

And I know she’ll stick by me, Yea! Arf Arf



Oh no! Here comes a Great Dane

Drivin’ down the lane

Quiche, Quiche, Quiche come back here;

Don’t leave me.

I’ll go insane.

I’ll go insane.



Xander continued to prance about with Anya who was now singing along enthusiastically.



How do you like that?

Has anybody seen a dog dyed dark green.

About two inches tall, with a strawberry blonde fall;

Sunglasses and a bonnet

And designer jeans with appliqués on it?

The dog that brought me so much joy

Left me wallowing in pain.



Quiche Lorraine.



I’ll show her!

Do you see the key in my hand?

I’m gonna throw it in the lake.

Yea, you’ve been so rotten to me,

You take the cake.

I’m just gonna lock the door to your kennel,

And just you try to come back to me.

Yea, you’ll see.



Quiche Quiche Lorraine you mangey mutt.

Quiche Quiche Lorraine

I’m talking about Quiche!

Quiche Quiche Lorraine Quiche Lorraine!



The pair collapsed against the car in a fit of giggles.

“Guys-neighbors.” Buffy tried to get them to settle down.

They ignored her, but Anya was already helping Xander into the car. He grabbed her by the waist again, dragging her down to him and giving her a big sloppy kiss. She laughed and pushed away from him, strapping him in with difficulty and, checking to make sure all his limbs were securely in the car, shut the door. She raced around to the driver’s side, gave them a parting wave, and got in.

“Please don’t let them crash,” Buffy whined, watching them pull away and head home.

“That’s a real possibility. Looks like the whelp got a second wind in him. Guess that stuff makes you horny, eh Slayer?” Spike asked, nudging her with his shoulder.

“Oh please, they’re always like that,” Buffy answered, then froze.

Daring to glance over at him, she was greeted with that self-assured grin of his and a raised eyebrow.

“That so?” he said.

“I didn’t mean that I—that we—you’re turning stuff around again! Ugh, why don’t you just go home?”

Buffy turned to go back to the house. Spike followed.

“And leave my girls to deal with the high-strung Watcher by themselves? Never.”

Buffy came to a halt so fast he couldn’t help bumping into her. She clenched her fists, took a deep breath, then turned on him, jabbing a finger into his chest viciously.

“We are not your girls. I am not your girl. I will never be your girl!” she hissed.

Spike stumbled back with every painful jab of her finger. She gave him a final murderous glare and whirled around, ready to storm back into the house. Now Spike was pissed off. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him forcefully. She tripped and fell against him, and he used the opportunity to band an arm around her waist, pinning her other arm, maintaining his grip on her wrist and staring down into her furious eyes.

“And why the bloody hell not? What’s so wrong about it that you won’t even try it? Still think you’ll be happy with a human, is that it? When are you gonna learn, Buffy? Normal can’t handle you, and you don’t want it, not really.”

“I don’t want you,” she spat, struggling uselessly to break free.

“That has to be the biggest lie you’ve told yet, pet. I know you want me. That’s the whole point. You wouldn’t be so petrified of me if you didn’t.”

“You’re wrong.”

“Am I? C’mon Buffy, admit it. You want me. Part of you just wants to forget this moral battle you’re having with yourself and just give in. Do it. Let go. I promise you’ll like it. I can make it so good for you, kitten.”

He lowered his head to her neck, nuzzled her pulse point and inhaled. He could smell it; her arousal. It was everywhere, surrounding him. He wanted her. If she’d just give in…

“Spike.”

It was more of a moan than a complaint. He knew what it meant. She was torn between fighting him and letting him win. He waited, blowing his cool breath gently against her neck, making her shiver. She whimpered, her struggling becoming more like meek wriggling.

“Stop it,” she whispered.

He knew then, she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to give into her desires completely, no matter how much she wanted it. She couldn’t admit it. Not to him, not to herself, not to anyone. Not yet. But she did want him. And right now, she wanted him to make it easy for her, wanted him to spare her. And he did. She wanted someone to blame, so he’d let her blame him. For now.

“Slayer.” His voice was a low rumble against her ear.

Why does the way he say that make it sound so dirty? And why do I like it? Something is seriously wrong with me.

Buffy gave up the struggle. It wasn’t exactly getting her anywhere. She wasn’t sure if it was the effects of the smoke that was making her weak, or if it was just Spike. Either way she could feel herself melt against him.

That’s it, pet. Spike smiled, then started kissing a trail up her jaw.

Buffy tensed when he started kissing her, but gradually relaxed as he continued the gentle journey across her skin with his lips. She closed her eyes, just feeling him until he pulled back slightly. She gasped a little at the loss and opened her eyes. He was staring down at her intently. Oh so slowly he leaned in, and the next thing she knew his mouth was on hers. She let his lips glide over hers softly, felt his tongue slip out to run along the seam of her mouth. She opened up to him, welcomed him in, and soon their tongues were dueling, chasing each other. Spike moaned, releasing her wrist and moving his hand up her arm until it slipped beneath the curtain of her hair to hold the back of her neck, keeping her against him. It was a chance to push him away, but all she did was lift her free hand up to rest against his chest while she continued kissing him. The sound of a throat being cleared loudly broke through their haze. They both faced the open door of the house and the teenager standing there.

“As much as I hate to—interrupt,” Dawn gave her sister a pointed look, assuring her there would be a very long conversation taking place later about this, “Giles hasn’t quite passed out yet, and Mom will not be happy if she comes home to find her designer lamp disassembled, just because he wants the shade for a new hat. Think you could help me settle him down? I promise you can make with the super-hot smoochies afterwards, okay?” Dawn smirked, turned around, and walked back in the house before either of them could reply.

Spike chanced a glance at Buffy. Her eyes were wide, obviously startled, and remained fixed on the open doorway. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing rapid, and Spike felt pride at having raised the Slayer’s libido, but all this was mingled with apprehension of her reaction to being caught---again. He moved first, lowering his arms and taking a step back. Buffy pulled herself together, glanced at him quickly, and he had time to see the panic and confusion in her eyes before she practically ran inside. He paused, unsure of what to do, but noticing she’d left the door open, decided to follow.

Upon re-entering the house, he was just in time to see Buffy haul Giles away from some fancy artwork of Joyce’s on the wall and try to guide him upstairs. Wordlessly Spike stepped up behind them and urged the man forward. Eventually they made it to the top.

“Where you planning on stashin’ him then?” Spike asked.

“Mom’s room. I just hope he goes to sleep and doesn’t break anything, or Mom will have a fit,” Buffy answered, leading her Watcher into Joyce’s room by the arm.

She needn’t have worried. Seconds after plopping him down on the bed Giles lay back, and when his head hit the pillow, he rolled over spread-eagled, and went to sleep, loud snoring a telltale sign that he would be out of it for hours. Buffy couldn’t help the small grin that crossed her face as she observed her mentor, before she removed his shoes and left him to sleep off the excitement of the evening. Spike waited outside the bedroom door for her. She shut off the light, closed the door behind her, and headed downstairs, avoiding eye contact with the vampire. She could feel his presence behind her though, dominating the space around her.

At the bottom of the stairs, Buffy wrapped her arms around herself, unsure of the next step. Dawn saved her from an awkward conversation—at least this time.

“He’s asleep?” she asked eagerly.

Buffy nodded and Dawn exhaled loudly, raising her eyes to the ceiling.

“Finally. Sheesh, who knew a guy his age, could be so much trouble? Oh, uh, no offense Spike.”

“None taken, luv. I might be older than he is, though I could technically still pass for a bloke in his twenties, and I’m a hell of a lot fitter,” Spike responded, tucking his hands into his coat pockets, very aware of the awkward Slayer next to him.

“Yeah, I’ll say,” Dawn scoffed, then blushed.

Spike smirked at her, and she blushed even more.

“Okay, I think I’m off to bed, all this Scoobie-sitting has me worn out.” She yawned enthusiastically to emphasize her need to retreat upstairs and flew by them.

“Night you guys.”

“Uh, okay, goodnight---Dawn,” Buffy finished as she heard her sister’s door bang shut.

Slowly she turned to face Spike. He just looked at her, waiting for her to say something. Argue with him, throw him out, anything. She hadn’t a clue what to say. After a few tense moments Spike gave up. He headed for the door. Buffy watched him. Spike was leaving.

Good. It is good isn’t it? But—

“Umm, Spike?”

He paused just outside, half-turning to her, waiting. Buffy shifted uncomfortably. She took a deep breath and forced herself to Slayer-up and just do what she knew was unavoidable at this stage.

“Would you…Will you help me kill this Smoke demon?”

She waited, holding her breath, expecting a snarky answer or goading. She was surprised.

“Sure, pet. When did you want to chase it down?”

She blinked a few times, then shook her head to concentrate.

“Uh, well tomorrow night’s good, I guess. Is tomorrow night good?”

Spike nodded, smiling.

“Well, uh, yeah. Tomorrow night it is then. Meet in Restfield?”

Spike nodded again, finding her sudden tentativeness adorable.

“Well then. Yeah. So, uh---goodnight?” she tried cautiously.

“Night, pet. Get your rest,” Spike said, starting to walk down the path.

Buffy was just closing the door when she heard him call to her over his shoulder.

“You’re gonna need it!”

Now why did that sound like it meant so much more than a fight with a demon?


Chapter End Notes:
So, what did ya think? Live up to standards or expactations?



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