“Stop. You’re hurting me!” Buffy said the words with as much surprise as anger. “Rick, Stop it!” She pulled her arm away and gasped at the sound of her favorite cardigan ripping. “I mean it. I just want to go home.”
He scowled. “Give me a break. This is our fifth date. You don’t have to put on this wounded bird routine.” When he reached for her again, she pushed open the car door and climbed out.
“Buffy, this is ridiculous!”
She slammed the door shut and, standing as tall as she could on shaking legs, she crossed her arms. “I’ll walk.”
“Get your ass back in the car.”
She shook her head. “Not a chance.”
Rick snorted “You’re such a fucking child. It’s three miles back to town. You’re not going walk back in the middle of the night. “
She walked around the car and held out her hand. “Give me my purse.” It was at least three miles back to town. Letting Rick take her to the cliffs had been incredibly stupid; she knew it was where the local teens came to make out but she’d never thought he’d get so forceful. She straightened her shoulders; she could berate herself later.
He shook his head and gave her the warm smile she now knew hid a snake’s personality. “Look, this whole thing had gotten blown out of proportion. Why don’t you just get into the car and I’ll drive you home. We talk it out tomorrow.”
“Just hand me my purse, Rick.”
The smiled vanished. “Look, bitch—”
His rant was interrupted by a deep voice coming from behind her. “Do you need a hand, miss?”
Buffy turned and gasped. Her potential help looked just as likely to be a potential problem. She wasn’t sure what it was exactly, maybe his hair, which was bleached nearly white, or his well-worn black leather motorcycle jacket, but something screamed dangerous.
“Miss?” His head tilted to the side as he waited for her to respond. “Do you need some help?”
Buffy looked back at Rick.
“Just a misunderstanding, man. My girlfriend is going to get back in the car now.”
Buffy shook her head. “I’m not.”
“Buffy.” Rick shot a glance towards her mysterious stranger. “You’ve made your point. Get in car.”
The white-haired man took a few steps closer. “Think she’s made it pretty clear she’s not gettin’ in the car, mate. How about you give the girl her things now?”
“How about you fucking mind you own business, mate?” Rick snarled the words before turning back to Buffy. “I should have known you’re more work than you’re fucking worth. You think you’re so hot, right? You think you can just drag men along like they’re your fucking lapdogs.”
The white-haired man’s hand shot in through the driver’s side window and grabbed Rick’s neck.
Buffy gasped and watched with wide eyes.
“Shut your bloody hole and give the girl her bag before I forget my manners.”
Rick’s eyes went wide and he tried to pry the other man’s hand away from his neck as he gasped, “Fuck you.”
The other man jerked his hand roughly before leaning in and talking in a deep, hoarse voice. “This can go two ways. You can be a good little douche bag and hand the nice girl her bag or I can pull you out through this window and kick in your smarmy ass face. Your choice, mate.”
Gasping, Rick felt around until he found Buffy’s clutch and then tossed it out the window. The other man gave his throat a squeeze. “I said hand it to her, dickweed.” He released him and walked over to where her bag had landed. He picked it up, brushed it off and walked over her. As he held it out to her, Buffy watched Rick drive away.
“Thank you,” she whispered as she took her bag.
“Are you hurt, pet?” The stranger’s voice was softer now and, though he took a step back, he smiled just a little.
She couldn’t help rubbing the spot on her arm that she knew would be bruised by morning, but she shook her head. “No. I’m fine.”
The man nodded and then glanced around. “Don’t suppose you’ve hidden yourself a car around here somewhere?”
Buffy felt her eyes sting as they filled with tears. “No. I…” She lifted her hands to her mouth.
The man’s eyes widened. “Hey…whoa…it’ll be alright. Don’t— there’s no need for that.” He sighed and stepped closer. “You’re safe now. No harm done, right?” He lifted his hand and then brought it back down to his side.
She really didn’t want to cry, especially not in front of her stranger, but she couldn’t help it. She simply felt too stupid to exist. She turned away as the first few hot drops slid down her cheeks. After a few moments she felt his hand pat her shoulder very lightly.
“There, there,” he said.
It was so awkward; he seemed so very awkward, that she laughed. “You really can’t handle crying girls, can you?”
He chuckled. “You got me there.”
“I’m sorry.” She sniffled and wiped her cheeks. “I was just…” She shook her head. “And thank you.”
He gave her another nod and she studied his face for a few seconds. He was handsome, really handsome, now that she looked. Sure his hair was kind of weird, but it didn’t look bad and he had a nice face with very blue eyes. She smiled. “I’m really lucky you came along.”
His forehead wrinkled and he shrugged. “You were handling yourself.” He looked away for a moment, frowning. “Why don’t I give you a lift back home?” He pointed to a path in the forest that Buffy assumed led to another one of the openings used for parking and then started walking.
She followed. “What’s your name?”
He stopped for an instant, but didn’t turn around. “Spike.” He continued walking.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
She swallowed and remembered her initial impression of danger. “Oh,” she said quietly. “I’m Buffy.”
“Yeah, I heard that arse say it a few times.”
She followed him back out of the woods. He stopped in front of a large black motorcycle. Her jaw dropped. “You don’t have a car?”
He turned back towards her a sighed. “I have a car. I rode the bike.”
“Oh.” She stared at it. Did he really mean to take her home on a motorcycle?
“I can go fetch my car, but that’ll mean leaving you up here all by your lonesome. You want me to do that?”
No! Her stomach plummeted at the thought, but she tried to look calm. “No,” she said quietly. “I can…this will work.”
He chuckled. “That sounded a bit like a question.”
She shrugged. “I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before.”
“I’d have never guessed you had, pet.” He laughed.
She liked his laughed. It was unique; sort of deep and jagged. She could feel her cheeks warming up from his teasing.
“It’s not hard. Never had a girl fall off yet.”
Buffy nodded and tried not to point out that falling off wasn’t a problem if you were in a car. It certainly wasn’t his fault that she was in this situation. She watched him climb onto the bike with an increasing sense of dread and a little flare of something far different deep in her stomach. He really was very handsome. She’d been rescued by a handsome stranger on a motorcycle. Her lips twitched despite her nerves.
“Alright, so you just climb on behind me and hold on tight, right?’
“Right.” Except that she felt frozen in place.
“I’ll go slow,” he said gently. “It’s not so bad. Might even like it.”
Buffy doubted that, but she nodded anyway before walking over to the bike.
“Step up here.” He pointed to spot on the side of the bike. “And then swing your leg over the seat.”
Buffy was grateful he was looking forward as she followed his directions. She quickly realized that dresses and motorcycles were not meant to mix. She pulled her skirt down as far as she could and, trembling slightly from nerves, gripped the rails on the back of her seat. “Okay,” she said as confidently as she could.
“Sorry, pet. We’re gonna have to get a bit friendlier.”
She frowned. “What?”
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “I’m gonna need you to put your arms around my waist.” He said it slowly as though he was worried he might spook her.
“Oh.”
He sighed. “Would you rather wait here while I get the car? Or maybe call someone else?”
She shook her head. She definitely didn’t want to be alone. The thought of Rick coming back turned her stomach.
“I’d wait with you, pet. Not trying to scare you.”
“It’s okay.” She nodded and carefully put her arms around his middle, the leather of his jacket felt chilled through her thin cotton sweater.
“’Atta a girl.” He gently rearranged her hands so she was holding him tighter. “Where to, pet?”
“Shouldn’t we be wearing helmets?”
“Yup.”
When she realized he wasn’t going to say anything else, Buffy recited her address and tried not to think about her bare thighs brushing against his jeans. Why couldn’t she have been wearing pants?
He started the bike and took off without another word. She couldn’t hold back a squeak of surprise. He took one hand off the handle bars and patted her hand. “Just hold on tight, kitten”
She really had no choice. Buffy flattened herself against his back and squeezed her eyes shut. The highway was sheer terror, four minutes that felt like a lifetime, but once he hit the edge of town Spike slowed down and Buffy forced herself to open her eyes. She didn’t move her cheek from his leather covered back or loosen her grip around his chest, but she did try to push her hips back just a little. It didn’t work. She was pressed more intimately against this stranger than she’d been with any man in her life. The thought shocked her, but not as much as the tightening of her nipples or the tingling in her stomach did.
He stopped in front of her house a few moments later. Shaking only a little, she climbed off. “Thank you…again.”
He shrugged. “It was nothing.”
She smiled. “That’s not true.”
He looked away. “All done now—get some sleep— try not to pick such an arse next time.”
She winced. It wasn’t like she’d expected Rick to turn violent. Feeling defensive, she frowned. “It’s not like I make this a habit. I usually drive myself.”
“Sounds like a good plan.” He nodded. “You do that.” He reached for the key.
“It was our fifth date. He didn’t do anything like that before and…and my car broke down a few days ago.” She sighed. What difference did it make? Who cared what this guy thought? She knew the answer, she did. She just didn’t know why.
He was looking at her again, studying her face like he could figure her out entirely if he squinted hard enough. She lifted her chin.
“I work at Joe’s, over on Winslow,” he said finally. “You bring in your car; I’ll make sure it gets fixed up at a fair price.”
Buffy nodded. Her mom had already taken her car to a shop, but it seemed rude to say that. “Thanks…Spike.” Somehow his name didn’t seem nearly as bad when she said it herself.
He nodded once more before turning the key and taking off.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This is an idea I have been playing with for awhile and finally just had to be written. I have a few chapters written and even beta-read already, so updates will come quickly. Also, this is my first self-made banner. Don't make fun of it. ;)
Extra Special Thanks to Puddinhead for beta-reading and enthusiasm!!!
Extra Special Thanks to Puddinhead for beta-reading and enthusiasm!!!
Chapter End Notes:
Thoughts?