Title: Blue Eyed Devil
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: The characters in this
story do not belong to me
Feedback: Yes, please.
Rating: Will differ from chapter to
chapter, but it will go up to NC-17

Summary: AU. (Here I go again)
Spike is an up and coming rock star. His
band is called "Blue Eyed Devil". Buffy is
a pre-school teacher, who meets him one
night in a club where his band is singing.

AN: Since I can't write music, and music is
going to be a major theme in this story, I'll
be using other songs that I like. Unless it's
noted that the song belongs to someone else,
I need you to suspend a little belief and pretend
it's a Blue Eyed Devil song. I'm sure none of
you will have any problem imagining "him"
singing a love song...to whoever.






Part One...


"Are you busy tonight?"

Buffy glanced up at her best friend and employer. Willow
was standing in the doorway to her classroom, clutching a
piece of poster board that looked like she'd stolen if off the
side of a building.

She finished dumping the last of the wooden blocks into their
bins, then sat back on her heels and pushed her hair out of her
eyes. "I'm just finishing up some of my early evaluation reports
and maybe working on next weeks lesson plan a little more. Why?"

With an impish smile, Willow turned the poster board around and
gave Buffy a look at it.

Buffy looked, then shrugged. "Blue Eyed Devil? Who's he?"

Willow sighed. "Honestly, Buff...do you ever turn on the radio or the
television? I know you own one of each."

Climbing to her feet, Buffy pushed the block box off into a corner,
then turned around, smoothing down her skirt. "Look...I'm not
up for one of your "let's drag Buffy into the modern world, kicking and
screaming" talks. I don't know who he is...so just tell me."

"It's not a "he", Willow explained, placing the poster down on
Buffy's desk. "It's a band. A really...really...hot band. Their
first single went platinum almost overnight, and they've just signed
a zillion dollar contract for three albums..."

Buffy straightened the books on the reading shelf. "So...why
do I need to know all this?"

"Because," Willow exclaimed. "They're gonna be playing here to-
night! In a couple of weeks, they're kicking off this mega city tour,
but they'll be here at Union Jacks tonight!"

"At who?"

"Union Jacks," Willow repeated. "That new club down by the pier.
It just opened a couple of days ago."

Buffy scraped a crayon mark off one of her books with her thumb-
nail. "How come...a big band like that is playing in a little club here
in Sunnydale?"

"I heard that the owner of the club is Spike Devlin's uncle and he..."

"Hold it," Buffy said, holding up one hand. "Who...is Spike Devlin?"

"Oh for..." Willow shook her head in disgust at Buffy's ignorance. "He's
the front man...the lead singer...plays lead guitar...and he's related
to the man who owns the club...so they're playing here as a favor to
him. You know...to get the place off to a good start."

Buffy nodded. "And I take it that you want to go and see them? And
drag me along for the ride."

Willow grinned. "You got it, best friend."

"But I've really got a lot to do tonight, Wils and I..."

"Best friend here!" Willow cut her off. "Who gave you your first teaching
job at her school...over more experienced applicants."

Sighing, Buffy rolled her eyes. Willow was never...ever...gonna let
her forget that little piece of information. She had indeed passed over
three other teachers with years of experience behind them, and hired
her instead...fresh out of school herself.

Buffy knew she was trapped. Willow owned the school, and while
she wouldn't use that as a weapon, Buffy didn't want to make waves
with her boss.

"All right...I'll go with you," she agreed. "I'll hear Blue Eyed what's-his-
name sing and play, and...whatever. But you..."

"Great!" Willow said happily, cutting Buffy off mid-sentence. "I'll meet you
there at 7:00. We can have dinner first. My treat."

Gathering up her purse and her jacket, Buffy grabbed her leather
satchel as well. She stuffed her unfinished evaluation reports and her
lesson plans in it. Maybe she could get a little work done before the
band started breaking her eardrums.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were seated at a side table with a fairly good view of
the stage. After ordering hamburgers and milk shakes, they
sat and talked about their plans for the school year. Willow
filled Buffy in on some of the background of her fellow teachers,
and Buffy countered with stories about some of her own
class mates who were now working in the public school system.

The bands instruments were all set up on stage, ready to go.
Buffy counted five guitars, an elaborate keyboard set up, and
a drum kit that looked like it could shake the walls to kindling.

Their meals arrived, and they had just begun to eat when Willow's
cell phone chirped loudly. She grabbed the tiny phone and went
out into the main entry way to talk, and when she came back
to the table, Buffy could tell it wasn't good news.

"I've gotta go," she said, gathering her things together. "That
was the cleaning service. A pipe burst in Marian's class-
room and they don't know how to turn off the water."

Buffy wiped her mouth with a napkin and started to stand, but
Willow waved her back down. "You stay...it's nowhere near your
room, and there's no reason for you to miss the band. Um...I'll
see you tomorrow...and if you can get me an autograph...I'd..
I gotta go..."

Sitting back down, Buffy considered leaving as well. But, she
was hungry and didn't have much at home, since she hadn't
bothered to go to the market. Besides, Willow had looked so
upset and all....maybe she COULD get her the autograph she'd asked
for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Once her stomach was full, she pushed the plate away and
grabbed her satchel. Spreading out the evaluation papers, she
began to write on them, quickly becoming so engrossed that she
wasn't really too aware of what was going on around her.

She heard the band being introduced and the burst of loud
applause that followed. Music began to play, but she didn't bother
looking up....until a voice spoke almost directly into her ear.

"S'cuse me, luv....are we bothering you with all that loud music
we're playing?"

Buffy finally raised her head and found herself looking at what
had to be the 'Blue Eyed Devil' himself.

Oh, boy....were his eyes blue! Like aquamarine gems...or maybe
blue topaz...and they were framed by long, dark lashes that a girl
would envy.

He was leaning on her table, smiling down at her like a wolf
who'd just stumbled over a particularly vulnerable looking lamb.

A little over average height, he was dressed in a pair of skin tight
jeans, a black t-shirt, and a red button down shirt on top of that,
loosely tucked into his pants. He wore a pair of scuffed black
boots, worn down at the heel, and around his neck hung a silver
Celtic cross.

Buffy's cheeks turned bright pink. "I...I beg your pardon?" she
asked nervously.

"I asked you if we were disturbing you with our music, darling," he
repeated.

The people sitting at the tables around them giggled and whispered
amongst themselves as they watched this little drama. The band was
still playing their instruments, but softly, wanting to hear what was
being said.

"Why are you asking me that?" she hissed, wiping suddenly
sweaty palms on her skirt. "Am I offending you in some way?"

"As a matter of fact, luv," he said, nodding. "I'm sort of used to people
actually paying attention to the show. Makes me feel all warm and
cozy inside."

"I can hear you," she answered smartly. "Am I required to sit and
stare at you as well?"

The people around them all went "oohhh" at the same time, as
though they were expecting a knock-down drag out fight to start.

But the man bothering her looked delighted. "Sassy little thing,
aren't you? What are you doing?" he asked, gesturing at her
papers.

"I don't see how that concerns you," she answered huffily. He
laughed and made a grab for her lesson planner. Buffy grabbed the
other end of it, and there was a brief tug-of-war between them. "Let
go!" she demanded, slapping at his hand.

"Ouch!" he said, pretending to be grievously wounded. "Come on...let
me see." He yanked the book out of her hand and flipped it
open. "Lesson plans....are you a teacher?" he asked, handing the
book back to her. He leaned his elbows on the table and cupped his
cheek in his palm. "That's fantastic," he murmured in a silky tone of
voice. "You wouldn't believe the fantasies I've had about teachers, luv.
Not as pretty as you...but close."

Buffy's cheeks flamed scarlet again as her eyes darted nervously
around. "Will you just get back up on the stage and...and do what
you're supposed to be doing?" she whispered hotly.

"Depends," he said, eyeing her up and down. "Will you promise to
listen? I'll sing a song for you, if you do."

At this point, she would have agreed to do almost anything in order
to get him to go away. Her embarrassment was reaching horrifying
proportions, and she was afraid that she might start to cry. This
reaction was a holdover from her adolescence that she just couldn't
seem to shake, even at the age of twenty-five.

"Fine," she said irritably. "I'll listen."

He leaned closer, until she could feel the warmth of his breath on
her skin. "Will you watch, too?"

The other people in the club were getting restless. Apparently they
were tired of watching this particular show and wanted to get back
to the one they had come to see. She sensed a few dirty looks
being aimed in her direction, but her tormentor obviously cared
nothing about keeping the rest of his audience happy.

"Yes," she snapped. "I'll watch, too. Now...shoo!" She waved
him away, pointing at the stage.

"Thanks, luv," he said, making a kiss at her. He turned and went
back to the stage, jumping up on it in one leap.

The bass player, a nice looking boy with reddish blond hair, gave
him a look. "Thought you were never coming back. Not that I
blame you...she's something else."

Spike Devlin clipped his guitar strap back around his neck and
stared straight at Buffy. "Down, boy," he said, audible to everyone
in the club. "I saw her first."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


TBC....
Comments?














--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Part two...


Buffy's cheeks were still hot with embarrassment as the
band began to play. She could feel people's eyes on her,
and she'd never wanted to cut and run so badly in her life.

But she could also feel HIS eyes on her, challenging her to keep
her promise, and so she stayed glued to her chair. She was
damned if she was gonna let this, no doubt second rate singer,
chase her off like a frightened rabbit.

Summoning up all her nerve, she raised her eyes and
looked directly at him, ignoring the stares directed her way
by the rest of the audience....and found him looking right back
at her.

"When she walks in the room
every eye in the place turns to follow her
every move..."

Okay....so he wasn't a second rate singer.

"She's arrived on the scene, in her diamonds
and jeans.
World class....she's got nothing to prove.."

Actually...he was fairly talented.

"It takes a long time to know her
She gives it up a little at a time.."

No....he was amazingly talented.

"She's getting what she wants
She's a popular girl
Setting those hearts on fire
Everybody wants to be part of her world
She's a...popular girl
Such a....popular girl."

Oh, god....he was probably one of the best singers she'd ever
heard. No wonder his first single had jumped to the top of the
charts.

As she watched him, she had to admit that it wasn't just
the voice that he had going for him. His fingers were deft and
agile as they coaxed the melody from his guitar. His hips swayed
very slightly, in a suggestive manner that was all too obvious.

He didn't seem to be able to stand still for very long. He prowled
around the stage, making brief eye contact with a few of the
female members of his audience.

But every time he looked away from them, he returned his gaze
to Buffy. Unexpectedly, as if he was trying to catch her in the act
of not paying him the attention she'd promised.

As if she could look away!

"She walks down the street
Knocks 'em dead on their feet
With a casual nonchalance."

She'd been too unnerved before to pay much attention to his
looks, but now that there was a little distance between them,
she could see exactly why all the girls in the club were eyeing
him like a potential meal.

He had white blond hair...it had to be bleached, no way it
could be natural with the darkness of his lashes and eye-
brows...and although he'd slicked it back, it was resisting his
efforts to tame it and was showing it's natural curls.

His face was almost pretty. He had beautifully sculpted cheek-
bones, with a high arch to them, and a strong jaw. His complexion
was on the fair side, which only added to the intense piercing
quality of those blue, blue eyes of his. His left eyebrow sported a
scar that looked like it had always been there...like it was supposed
to be there.

"When she's breaking your heart
She's the state-of-the-art
With license to take what she wants."

But his mouth was a real work of art. Soft and sensual looking,
it begged to be kissed. And she could almost taste.....

"It takes a hard man to hold her.."

She gasped when she heard him sing that line, staring right
at her and pushing his hips forward in a thrusting motion that
definitely left no need for guess work as to what he was implying.

"She likes to get a little out of line."

Buffy clasped her hands together on the table top, squeezing
her fingers until her circulation was in danger of shutting
down.

"She's getting what she wants, she's a popular girl
Setting those hearts on fire
Everybody wants to be part of her world
She's a..popular girl
Such a...popular girl."

She swallowed hard. How much longer was this song going to
last? More importantly, how much longer was she going to be
able to sit still for this?

"She stands by the window, the world is her stage
Each smile is her mirror, in the passing parade
Passing parade."

Grabbing the glass of water the waiter had set on the table
earlier, she drank it down in four gulps.

"And in the end, all she'll be is your friend
Though passion's your lone desire.."

She sat back and folded her arms across her chest, feeling
oddly exposed as he stared at her. His next move, though, totally
unraveled her.

Her mouth dropped open as he dropped to his knees at the very
edge of the stage closest to her, leaning his body back slightly, his
guitar held on his upper thighs.

"She's the one you can't touch
You want her so much
You're burning...your heart's on fire.."

On fire. Apt lyrics indeed. She was actually beginning to feel
more than a little overheated herself.

"It takes a hard man to hold her
The challenge is forever on my mind.."

Buffy wiped her damp hands on her napkin, then shredded
it into tiny bits of confetti in her lap. Would this song NEVER
end?

"She's getting what she wants
She's a popular girl
Setting my heart on fire

Everybody wants to be part of her world
She's a...popular girl
Such a....popular girl.."

Her eyes became wide and round. He had changed the lyric! Had
stared right at her and changed the lyric of the song!

People were looking at her again as the band played the closing
notes of the song. Looking at her...and whispering.

Okay....enough was enough.

She began packing her belongings back up, shoving the
evaluation forms into her satchel without considering that they
were made of paper and would be hopelessly wadded up and
crinkled.

Grabbing her purse, she jumped to her feet and headed
towards the exit. She walked swiftly, eyes glued to the door,
not even registering it when someone in the audience muttered
"Oh, not again!"

Buffy didn't stop until she was forced to by someone behind her
placing a hand on her shoulder. Ducking away, she whipped
around and saw that Devlin had once again left the stage and
was chasing after her.

Half the audience looked intrigued and amused, the other half...not
so much. Afraid that they were going to start some kind of riot,
she placed her hand on his chest and pushed him away from her.

"Quit following me!" she snapped.

Completely unrepentant, he smiled. "Give me your name and your
phone number, and I will."

Trapped, Buffy's eyes darted about and fastened on the ladies room
door. "I'm just going to the bathroom," she said, projecting a look
of sincerity blended with urgent need. "Get back up there and...do
what you were doing and...and I'll write it down for you when I get
back."

He hesitated, then backed away a little. "All right, then."

Safely locked in the bathroom, she waited until she heard the
band begin to play and then bolted out the door, running to her
car like a bat out of hell.

As though the devil himself was on her heels....


TBC...
Feedback is welcome!

Title: Blue Eyed Devil
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the characters in
the story belong to me.
Feedback: Don't make me beg.
Summary: AU. Spike Devlin is the
lead singer for the band Blue Eyed Devil.
Buffy Summers is a local preschool
teacher. They meet and .....

Rating: Up to NC-17





Part three.....


After a long night filled with disturbing dreams punctuated
by a few moments of restless sleep, Buffy had to drag herself
out of bed. It wasn't until she'd had two cups of black, highly
sweetened coffee and a shower that she began to think she
might be able to screw her head on straight and go to work.

Her morning was hectic and loud. The children from Marian
Banner's class room had been parceled out amongst the other
teachers until the plumbing could be fixed and the carpet relaid.
This meant that Buffy had five more 4 year olds to deal with.

She made it through the morning on a caffeine and sugar
energy burst, and she only stopped to think about her experience
the night before a half a dozen times or so. Fortunately, her
attention had to focus on her children, which saved her from a
lot of useless imaginings.

Although he had haunted her last night in her dreams, Buffy
had no illusions about the reality of the situation. She was
quite certain that she'd been nothing more to him than an
interesting diversion, probably prompted by her initial ignoring
of his stage presence, and a challenge to his ego. To a person
like him, it wasn't enough to have most of the girls in the
audience bowled over...he needed to have them all in the same
condition.

During the morning rest period, she snuck into the kitchen and
drank a bottle of Coke, hoping to boost herself up with more
caffeine and sugar.

It seemed to work, because she got through the rest of the
class time until lunch without collapsing into a tired heap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So...how was the band last night?"

Buffy shrugged as she filled her basket with supplies
from the storage closet. Construction paper, glue sticks,
buttons, pipe cleaners and Popsicle sticks weighed her
arm down...ingredients for an art project she was planning
for the afternoon session.

"They were all right," she murmured absently, silently
berating herself for telling such an outrageous lie.

"All right?" Willow asked, disbelief making her voice
squeak. "That's the best you can say...they were all right?"

Buffy cleared her throat. "They were...good. Competent
musicians...pleasant voices."

"Well, which songs did they sing?" Willow pressed.

Glad that she was facing in the other direction, Buffy allowed
herself a brief memory of a silky, sensual voice and of pene-
trating blue eyes fixed on her like a laser beam as he sang
words that made the heat rise in her body..."She's setting my
heart on fire...."

"I don't really remember," she said, swallowing hard.

Willow was silent for a long moment, and Buffy could almost
feel her friends eyes burning into her, trying to gauge the
level of truth in her voice.

"Well, what about the guys themselves?" she asked. "Were
they hot?"

"No!" Buffy said, a shade too loudly. "They were just...just
ordinary looking guys. Nothing special." She closed the door
to the storage closet, hoping to avoid whatever lighting bolt God
was about to pop her with for telling so many lies.

"Oh, come on." The disbelief in Willow's voice ratcheted up about
three degrees. "I've seen them on TV," she added, "They are
majorly sexy...especially Spike Dev...."

Buffy cut her off before she could finish the name. "I suppose
they were, if you like that type!" she snapped. "But they just
don't appeal to me."

Another lie. She was actually afraid to step outside at this point. If
not a lightning bolt, then surely an anvil would come crashing down
from the sky and squash her flat.

"Okay, okay," Willow said placatingly, holding up her hands as
though she were being robbed at gunpoint. "I get the message. Miss
Summers doesn't like rock and roll singers." She smiled, and
Buffy knew what was coming next. "She prefers tall, blond loan
officers."

As hard as she tried, Buffy couldn't even muster up a small
smile acknowledging Willow's teasing comment. Her best friend
and employer was referring to Riley Finn, the officer at the bank
that had approved Willow's small business start up loan.

Riley had brought some paperwork to the school a few months
ago, and Willow had introduced him to Buffy, hoping to prod her
into wanting more satisfaction out of life than she got from teaching
preschool.

He was very nice, and there was no doubt he was good looking. Tall
and built more like a athlete than a bank officer, Riley Finn had sandy
blond hair, friendly gray eyes, and an open, guileless face. Riley was
what he was. There was no hidden mystery to him, no secrets to
explore. What you saw...was what you got. No more, no less.

She had accepted his invitation to lunch that day, and had been out
with him a few times since then. But, much to Willow's dismay, she
couldn't seem to work up more than a casual liking for him. Even
when he kissed her, although she tried to leave herself open for the
bells and skyrockets that romance novels rhapsodized about, she
never really lost herself in his kiss. Never wanted to drown in his eyes.
Never wanted to lie in his arms and listen to him sing to her...sing
softly...only to her....

Oh, no. She wasn't going there again. THAT was a dream. A silly,
unattainable dream that had crept into her innocent sleep, uninvited.

Buffy tried to change the subject. "What did the plumber say?"

"Oh, it was just a faulty pipe. He replaced it and checked out
everything else, said it all looks good." Willow wiped imaginary
sweat from her brow. "The carpet in Marian's room will be back down
by the end of the day, so...all's well."

"Good," Buffy murmured, pushing open the door to her class room.

Willow said nothing for a moment, and Buffy was afraid that her
friend was once again gathering her forces to continue her "Buffy
could love Riley if she just gave herself half a chance" lecture.

But all Willow did was ask if she could supervise the noon play
period outside.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There were twelve children in her class, and she adored every
single one of them.

>From the time she'd been a child herself, Buffy had wanted to
be a teacher. She had spent most of her playtime conducting
pretend classes with her dolls and stuffed animals lined up in
a neat row as she explained the mysteries of 2+2=4.

As she grew to adulthood, she discovered that she had a
special affinity for very young children. They were so full of wonder
and joy, so eager to learn and so willing to love and be loved.

Her little ones were old enough to truly learn what she was
teaching them, but not too old to climb up on her lap for a
hug, or to have an 'ouchie' kissed after it was treated with
antiseptic and a band aid.

They loved nothing more than to come and take Miss
Buffy's hand and lead her out onto the playground to take part
in whatever imaginary flights of fancy they were participating
in.

And Miss Buffy loved nothing more than to be taken along
for the ride. She climbed the monkey bars, swung along on the
swing sets, teetered as they tottered, and crawled on her hands
and knees into the playhouses. She dressed and undressed
dolls, built Lego skyscrapers, molded clay into recognizable
shapes, and blatantly crayoned outside the lines of coloring
books.

When she took her class on a mini field trip to the little farm
Willow had set up in the field behind the school, they followed
her in a row, like ducklings. They tossed grain to the chickens,
cuddled the bunnies, and laughed when she purposely allowed
the tiny pygmy goat to lower his miniature horns and bump into
her backside.

And they asked questions. Endless questions about everything
under the sun. Why was this like that, and why was that like this?
Where did the sun go at night? Why did the moon change colors as
it rose? Do flowers feel it when they're picked? How did the cinnamon
and sugar stick to the graham crackers, and why was there no butter
in the peanut butter? Do bunnies like jelly beans, and why did some
have floppy ears while others had upstanding ones?

They asked so many questions that she thought nothing of it at
first when she was crawling out of the iron tunnel and heard
Samantha ask, "Miss Buffy? Who's that man by the front gate?"

Buffy looked up, saw who it was, and bumped her head on the
edge of the tunnel hard enough to make the iron ring like a dull
chime.

Oh, no......



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


TBC.....

Comments?

Part four....


He had been watching her for several minutes before she was
alerted to his presence, watching as she played with the children,
looking much like a child herself.

But there had been nothing 'childlike' about her last night.

Spike had noticed her when he'd walked out on the stage,
scribbling on a stack of papers, her entire concentration devoted
to whatever she was doing.

When the applause from their intro had ebbed, he'd waited for
her to put her pen down, but she'd just carried on with her
paperwork as though she was in a library instead of a venue
where loud rock music was making the walls shake.

A minute into the first number, he had looked over at her
and was slightly irked to see that she wasn't paying a damn
bit of attention to the band. They could have been playing on
the dark side of the moon, for all she was aware.

Never one to turn down such an obvious challenge, he had
signaled for the music to continue being played at a softer
volume, unclipped his guitar strap, and jumped down from
the stage.

Fully intending to deliver a little nasty sarcasm, the notion
had been wiped clean from his mind when she'd raised her
head and looked at him like the proverbial deer in front of a
quickly approaching pair of headlights.

Christ..what a knock out she was. Delicately made, with
a lovely face and a wealth of shining, honey brown hair, she
had the biggest eyes. Large and long lashed, they were jade
green with tiny gold flecks in them.

Although he'd been unable to see much of her figure, hidden
beneath the table as it was, the parts that he COULD see
were very pleasing to the eye. Very pleasing, indeed.

Instantly jettisoning his plan to be rude to her, he'd begun
flirting shamelessly, not deterred in the slightest by her
whispered insistence's that he return to the stage.

After securing her promise that she would both listen and
watch the performance, he had finally done just that.

Watching her squirm as he sang for her, he had been
completely charmed by her. Charmed enough, in fact,
that he'd had no qualms about stopping her from leaving
until he knew who she was and where he could call her.

But, the little sneak had hidden in the ladies room and
somehow managed to escape without him seeing it.

Which had pissed him off...momentarily.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike flinched in sympathy when he saw her head come
in contact with the metal pipe she was crawling out of. He
could hear the sound it make clear on the other side of
the play yard.

There was a little blond haired cutie standing next to the
tunnel, and she must have been the one to announce his
presence.

But teacher lady was now climbing to her feet, dusting her
skirt off and heading towards him with fire in her eye. He
couldn't remember the last time he'd pissed off a teacher,
although he'd done more than his share of it in school.

When she was only a few feet away, he got his first good
look at her in the light of day...and wasn't a bit disappointed. She
was just as pretty now as she'd been last night...and a good
deal angrier.

"You all right?" he asked, hoping to distract her with his sincere
concern. The little girl was trailing right along with her teacher,
hiding behind her skirt.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, her cheeks beautifully
pink with irritation. "How dare you come here?"

"Nobody dared me," he shrugged. "I just did."

That took the wind out of her sails...for about three seconds. "Why?
Why are you here?"

Spike grinned. She must know why he was here. After last night...how
could she not? "You ran out on me last night," he reminded her. "Pro-
mised me a name and phone number, and then you snuck off without
giving it to me."

Her breasts were heaving with her agitation, and it was all he could
do to keep his eyes on her face. He had the feeling that if she even
suspected he was staring at her chest, this would all be over before
it began.

No way he was gonna let that happen.

"You have to leave," she informed him. "This is...this is private pro-
perty, and you have no reason to be here."

"How do you know that?" he countered. "Couldn't I be checking out
the local schools for the benefit of my kids?"

For some bizarre reason, Buffy's heart jerked unpleasantly in her
bosom. "You...you have children?"

"Not yet," he replied. "But....you never know what the very near future
might hold."

Meeting his eyes as boldly as she could manage, Buffy saw that
he was definitely checking her up and down when he said those
words. If possible, her cheeks became even redder.

"Well...if you want to know more about the school...you have
to make an appointment with Willow. She's the owner and she'll
tell you everything you need to know. Goodbye."

"But I'd rather talk to you," he said quickly. "Come on," he added,
lowering his voice, "talk to me."

Buffy glanced around, then stepped a bit closer to the fence he
was on the other side of. "I'm at work," she announced, as though
he couldn't see that plainly. "I don't have time to play games like
this with you."

Spike chuckled. "Oh, darling...I'm not playing a game. Not the kind
you mean. In fact," he stepped a little closer, "I've rarely been more
serious in my life. Why did you run out on me last night?"

Running her hands over her hair in frustration, Buffy countered
with a question of her own. "How did you know where I worked?"

He stared down at his feet, kicking a rock around with the dusty toe
of one boot, then looked back up at her from beneath his lashes. This
was a practiced maneuver that usually charmed the hell out of whatever
girl he was after. Most girls had such a soft spot for shy, boyish
behavior.

"Remember when I opened your book? I saw the name of the school
at the bottom of the first page," he explained, grinning devilishly.

The little girl tugged on the back of teacher lady's skirt.

"Just a minute, Samantha," she said, then looked back at Spike. "I
have to take my class in...and you have to leave," she said firmly.

Spike sighed. This wasn't going to be easy...but something like
this...like her...was worth the extra effort. "I'll go," he conceded. "But
can I call you? Will you at least tell me your name?"

"No," Buffy replied.

Wondering if he was going to have to actually take a tour of the
school to get the information he wanted, Spike grinned when the
little blond cutie came to his rescue.

"Miss Buffy?" she asked, tugging again on her skirt. "Is that your
boyfriend?"

Insanely pleased, Spike knelt until he was at eye level with the
child. "You are a very clever little girl to guess that," he said bold-
ly. "And you're very pretty, as well." He rose slowly to her feet. "Isn't
she...Miss Buffy?"

Casting him an evil scowl, Buffy turned to the little girl. "Samantha,
it's almost time for recess to be over. Will you start collecting the
balls for me and put them in the ball cage?"

Nodding eagerly, Samantha skipped off to do as she'd been asked.

Buffy turned back to Spike. "Why won't you go?" she sighed help-
lessly.

The question made him frown. He wasn't used to being treated this
way by a girl. "I will," he said. "When I get what I came for."

Pausing a moment, Buffy clasped her hands together. "Look...Mr.
Devlin, I..."

"Spike" he interjected.

"Mr. Devlin....I don't understand why you're doing this. You must have
plenty of women just dying to throw themselves at your feet. Why you've
decided to single me out for your...attention...I don't know, but..."

"You really don't, do you?" he cut in, surprised. "Well, I'll tell you
why. Because I felt something last night. The minute I saw you, heard
your voice...I felt something. And you damn well felt it, too. Don't tell
me you didn't. I was singing for YOU, Miss Buffy. And if you'd had
the courage to stick around, I would have kept on singing for you."

She couldn't think of a thing to say in reply to such a declaration.

"When you get to know me better," he went on, "you'll see that I don't
give up easily...not when I want something badly enough. So get ready
for me, darling," He leaned over the fence until his face was close
to hers and whispered, "because I intend to rock your safe...little...world."

Before she could move, he dropped a light kiss on her lips.

"Bye for now, luv." Sliding a pair of sunglasses on, he turned and
crossed the street, then climbed into a black Mustang and drove away.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TBC...
Feedback is very appreciated

Title: Blue Eyed Devil
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the characters
belong to me.
Feedback: Of course!
Rating: Will vary, up to NC-17

Summary: AU. Spike Devlin is the
lead singer for the band 'Blue Eyed Devil'. Buffy
Summers is a local preschool teacher. They
meet and sparks fly!




Part five.....



Buffy wiped the chalkboard clean with slow, measured strokes
of the eraser, staring through the gray slate.

Her mind was still reeling from her earlier encounter, and
she'd purposely stayed late this evening to try and distract
herself with the little odds and ends of her preparations for
tomorrow's class.

But she couldn't concentrate on anything but him...couldn't
see anything but his blue eyes as they moved over her
body...couldn't hear anything but his voice tell her exactly
what he wanted from her....his voice...

"Well, well, well...if it isn't Miss Buffy. Still at school, and so
late at night."

She spun around in shock, clutching the eraser to her breast
like a shield. There he was...the man she'd been trying so
hard not to think about.

He was wearing another pair of snug jeans, fraying at the
knees. His boots were soft, scuffed leather, and he had on a
blue button down shirt....the exact color of his eyes.

"Tell me, teacher," he said, pacing slowly towards her with
his hands tucked into his front pockets. "Have you ever been
made love to...on your desk?"

She shook her head, no.

"Now that's a bloody shame," he added, stopping directly in
front of her. Before she knew it was happening, he had his
hands under her arms and was pulling her forward.

And then his mouth...that beautifully sinful mouth...was on
hers, devouring her like a hungry animal. His lips coaxed hers
apart, and his tongue slid sinuously between them, finding and
stroking hers.

Buffy's knees turned to water, and she clutched at him to keep
from falling to the floor.

Without lifting his mouth from hers, he walked her backwards
a few feet and sat her bottom down on the edge of her desk. Then,
with one sweep of his hand, he cleared it of the books and papers,
the pens and pencils, and all the other minutiae that cluttered up
her work space.

All of it landed on the floor in a messy pile.

"Oh, teacher," he whispered hotly in her ear. "Can you teach
me what you like? What gets you hot? Where you want to be
touched?"

He pushed her legs apart and stepped closer, easing her down
onto her back.

Of their own volition, her fingers slid from his shoulders up into
the silky mass of platinum curls. Curving inwards, they held him
to her.

"And then," he murmured, his lips traveling down her throat, "I'll
teach you what I like...where I want you to touch me...taste me."

His right hand began to unbutton her blouse. He pressed slow,
hot kisses to the skin he exposed.

Buffy was panting as she stared at the ceiling, fondling and
caressing his soft hair, holding him to her breast.

Spike Devlin wasted no time. With one hand, he easily undid
the front closure of her bra, then peeled the cups away from her
overheated flesh.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathed against her skin. "And I want
you so much."

She was through trying to resist this. Stubborn she might be, but
she wasn't stupid.

"Make love to me," she whispered, begging shamelessly. "Please..oh,
please. I want you..."

"And I want you, darling." He straightened up and pushed her skirt
up around her thighs. "Lift up," he directed her, then pulled the scrap
of satin and lace between her legs down and off.

Reaching for her hand, he lifted it to his lips and pressed a tender
kiss into her palm, then guided it down to the top snap of his pants.

Without a second thought, she unfastened it, watching in delight
as his zipper began to slide down on it's own, helped along by the
intense pressure from the other side.

"So big," she said, meeting his eyes. He smiled, pleased that he
was pleasing her.

"Touch it," he demanded. "Wrap your little fingers around it and
squeeze a little...ahh...perfect."

His head dropped back a little as she stroked and caressed him.

"Miss Buffy," he moaned. "You have the sweetest little hands."

She smiled. "I think you're going to be a very good student."

"Mmm...tighter, darling...yeah, that's it...slide it up and down....good
girl..."

Buffy parted her legs further. "Do you have something for teacher?"
she asked teasingly, tugging on his hard shaft, aiming it where she
wanted it to go.

Spike fell forward onto his hands. "Something better than an apple," he
promised.

She rubbed the cleft of her sex with his glans. "I do believe...that's an
A+ you have there."

"Lift your legs a little," he instructed, as he slid the head of his cock
inside her. "Fucking tight," he groaned, his hips beginning to move back
and forward in a rhythm that made them both happy.

"Faster," she pleaded. "Harder....now....I want more..."

"Yes, teacher," he panted, pounding into her like a jackhammer. "I'll
give you all you can take."

Buffy ran her hands up his arms and dig her nails into his biceps. The
pleasure he was giving her was beyond anything she'd ever imagined.

With no effort whatsoever, he was bringing her to a cataclysmic orgasm.
Her own hips began to rise and fall, harder and faster, meeting every
slam of his pelvis into hers. "Oh...oh, yes....yes..."

"Say my name," he begged. "Please, teacher...say my name."

"S-Spike....oh, yes, Spike....I'm...oh....oh....Spike...Spike...SPIKE!"

As her body began to calm, she looked up into his lovely blue
eyes, and wanted nothing more than to drown in them.

"You're so beautiful," he said, still sliding smoothly in and out
of her. "You're soft...and warm...and so pretty...you're a five car pile
up on the interstate...with multiple injuries."

Buffy frowned. "Huh?"

"Ground fog...visibility...watch your speed..."

"What....what do you mean...."

"And in other news..."

***************************************************************

Buffy's eyes flew open wide as she shot up in bed. Shaking
her head, she reached over onto her nightstand and slapped
off the clock radio, then collapsed back onto the pillows and
placed one hand over her wildly racing heart.

"Damn."



TBC.....

Part Six....


Three days went by, with no sign of Spike Devlin.

Buffy wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed, or
a combination of both. After her rather vivid dream she had
actually considered calling in sick at work, afraid he might
show up. She wouldn't have been able to even look him
in the eye, and she had a terrible feeling that he would
know why just by looking at her.

But her students were counting on her and, as always, they
were the ones who really mattered. For some of them, the
only stability they had was found at Willow Tree Preschool.

As the days passed, Buffy began to relax and to believe that
her experience with Devlin was a one shot deal. He'd probably
just been bored in their bucolic little town, and needed something
different to do to fill in his time before he left to go wherever it
was he was going.

Then, Friday afternoon rolled around.....


*********************************************************


"Miss Buffy? Tanner took the straw from my juice box!"

"Tanner...give Melody her straw back... NOW...please
Tanner! Thank you... Michael, do you need help with your
thermos?... No, turn it the other way...Be careful when you...It's
all right...Go inside and ask Miss Willow for a towel...Don't
get upset...It's only apple juice...Megan, your mother wants you
to eat some of those carrots...No, BEFORE the cookies, not
after...Because you'll be too full to eat them...You may save one
for the bunny, but that's all...David, bring me your orange and I'll
peel it for you...How about if I get it started?...Kyle, sit still...Be-
cause when you bounce up and down that way, you shake the
whole bench...Just pick it up and throw it in the trash can,
Mia...Not when you drop it outside, no...Tyler, that's NOT what
your sleeve is for. Please go inside and get a tissue..."

"Miss Buffy?"

"What, Samantha?"

"Your boyfriend's here."

Buffy's head whipped around so fast that her neck
popped unpleasantly.

**************************************************

Her heart lurched in her chest. Half of her was thrilled
that he'd returned, wondering if he had actually meant the
things he'd said the other day.

But the other half, the sensible Buffy, was scared witless
at the whole idea.

She turned around. "If you're finished with your lunch, you
may throw away your trash and play for the rest of the
hour."

The children seemed to be in no hurry to leave. Normally,
they would have taken off before she could utter the final
word.

Today, sensing that something was up, their little butts
appeared to have been hot glued to the bench. Trying to
make a good show of things, they fiddled with the remains of
their lunches, remains that had been destined for the garbage
only a moment ago.

Crusts of bread, some squishy raisins at the bottom of
their bags, the four or five drops of juice left in their
drink boxes and thermos bottles...even the granola
bars that they universally detested...all of this was
being consumed slower than an arthritic snail as they
methodically went about qualifying for membership in
the "clean plate" club.

She closed her eyes tightly, deciding that he was an
illusion brought on because she'd been thinking about
him so much...much more than was actually good
for her.

Opening her eyes, she turned around again.

The "illusion" smiled and waved.

With a look of grim determination, she rose to her
feet and, once again, headed across the play yard.

Several of her students started to follow after her, but
she turned on them and stopped THAT misguided notion
with a look that meant business.

*****************************************************

She halted five feet from the fence he was leaning
on. "What part of 'private property' and 'you'll
have to make an appointment' was I unclear about?"

Spike Devlin smiled and shrugged. "How do you I
didn't?" he challenged.

**Yeah, right!** she scoffed, inwardly. **Like Willow
would be able to keep THAT to herself!**

"Fine. The main office is over there," she said, pointing
in it's direction. "Goodbye."

"All right, all right," he said when she began to leave. "I'll
tell you the truth."

The words stopped her in her tracks, and she waited.

"I lied."

Buffy turned and faced him.

"I wanted to see you again," he confessed. "Is that a
bloody crime...Miss Buffy?"

"Yes," she answered tartly. "When I asked you to please
leave, it became trespassing."

Devlin chuckled. "Good luck getting THAT one to stand
up in court."

She was just about to give him his walking papers yet
again, when the office door opened and Willow stepped
outside with a piece of paper in her hand.

"Buffy?" she asked absently, not looking up. "Do you
know when the supplies for the copier came in? I think
I've been billed twice for the same..." Finally raising
her head, she was startled into silence when she saw
who Buffy was talking to.

"Oh!" she said, when she found her voice. "You're him! You're
Spike Devlin! Buffy!" she turned to look at her. "This is
Spike Devlin! Here! In our school!"

"Will wonders never cease," Buffy muttered.

"Wow," Willow continued to gush. "I can't believe this. I
am such a fan of Blue Eyed Devil. I mean...I went to
see you guys at Union Jack's but I had this...stupid
emergency and I had to leave. But, you're here!"

Sighing in disgust as she watched her employer
de-evolve into a teenage groupie right before her eyes, Buffy
made the introductions. "Willow Rosenberg...Spike
Devlin," She paused for a moment, then crossed her
arms over her chest and gave him a look. "Who is interested
in the school."

Willow gasped. "Really? In MY school? I mean...OUR
school? I mean...THIS school?"

Spike Devlin smiled charmingly. "It's nice to meet you, luv,"
he said. "This is a real sweet little place you're running here."

Willow blushed, her cheeks turning the color of her hair.

"Well, thank you!" she said. "What a nice thing to say."

"Yeah," Buffy added. "Nice." She looked at Willow. "You
should take him into your office, Wils," she suggested
pointedly. "Show him our curriculum."

Willow seized on the words. "Sure! Great! How old is
your child?" she asked giddily.

"To tell you the truth, pet," he answered. "I don't have
one...just yet."

Spike allowed his gaze to linger on Buffy for a moment
longer, his expression making it clear that he knew
exactly what she was about.

Oh, GOD...he was going to enjoy this! Pursuing little
Miss Buffy would be wildly exciting...and definitely worth
the chase....


TBC.....
Feedback is very welcome!

Chapter Seven.....


Buffy could feel his eyes on her in a way that was
almost palpable. The lovely blue of his iris seemed
to have deepened, and they snapped with pent up
energy.

He made her so nervous that she actually had to take a
step back.

"So," Willow spoke up. "You don't have any children?"

Spike Devlin shook his head, his eyes still pinned on
Buffy. "None of my own," he replied. "I have a niece
and nephew," **In England** he added silently, mentally
crossing his fingers. "My sister's kids."

"Oh...and you're checking out the available preschools
for them?"

"What?" He pulled his gaze away from Buffy and addressed
himself to Willow. "Oh...yeah. Yeah, they're...about the right
age and....so on."

"I see." Willow glanced at her watch. "Well, it's almost time
for the children to go in and have their quiet time. If you'd like to
come into the office, I'd be happy to show you how we operate
here at Willow Tree."

Buffy sighed with relief. An escape opportunity presenting
itself at exactly the right moment. Her out-of-whack stars
must be moving back into alignment.

"Excuse me," she murmured, then walked out into the play
yard and clapped her hands.

The children knew the drill, and they left what they were
doing to form a slightly disorderly line.

Buffy waited until all her ducklings were in a row, then
marched them inside. The children followed along, going
straight to their cubbyholes and pulling out their rest mats
and stuffed animals.

She read to them for fifteen minutes, turned off
the overhead light, then sat down at her desk to
begin cutting pieces of colored construction paper
into different shapes and sizes for their afternoon
art project, and NOT think about Spike Devlin.

**********************************************

Spike was having a far more difficult time not thinking
about Miss Buffy.

He had willingly followed Willow into her office, and taken
a look at her curriculum and the goals she set for the
children attending her school.

During a lull in the conversation, he was struck by a
sudden inspiration.

"You know," he said sincerely. "All this looks just great,
and I'll definitely clue my little sister in...but I was just
thinking that maybe I could visit one of the classrooms.
Watch how things work. That be okay, luv?"

This was a common and reasonable request, so Willow
didn't find it strange. "The children are having their quiet
time right now," she informed him. "But you're more than
welcome to sit in on the afternoon session."

"Fabulous," Devlin murmured, trying hard not to look
too eager.

But Willow just smiled and pulled out her attendance
sheets. "Everyone has a full class today," she said,
scanning the list. "Since you already know Buffy...maybe
you should start there." Looking up, she closed her
ledger and put it away. "I assume you've told her what
you want?"

He grinned. "Oh, yes," he said firmly. "She knows EXACTLY
what I want."

"Great," Willow said, standing up. "I'll show you where her
class is."


****************************************************

Buffy was beginning to think that someone had it in for
her in a major way.

As if she didn't have enough on her mind, the children
were continuing to act up. Kyle needed to go the bathroom.
Jason needed a drink of water. Keiko needed to get her
stuffed 'sleep buddy' out of her cubby. Andrew just enjoyed
making noise. Nina had sand in her shoes.

By the time she had attended to each one, Jason
needed to go to the bathroom, Kyle was thirsty, and she
was back at square one.

Even when she finally had them down on their mats,
they couldn't seem to be still and rest. They giggled,
they whispered, they kicked their legs, they hummed
tunelessly, they flopped around like a school of beached
goldfish.

Then, when she was already on her last nerve, it got
worse.

****************************************************

"That's enough!" Willow stood in the doorway and
clapped her hands sharply, twice. "Now," she added,
when all of the children were lying as stiffly and silently
as planks of wood, "we have a guest today."

Buffy, who had her back to the door, clapped one hand
over her eyes. She knew, without even having to look,
exactly who the mystery guest would turn out to be.

"This is Mr. Devlin," Willow said. "He's here to see
how we do things at Willow Tree, and I KNOW
that you want to show him what good boys and girls
you all are. Do you think that's what you were doing
a moment ago?"

Twelve heads wobbled from side to side.

"Then I expect you all to quiet down," she said
firmly. "Buffy...?"

Heaving a sigh that came all the way from the soles
of her shoes, Buffy turned around and saw Willow wave
her over.

She smiled weakly, her suspicions confirmed. Standing
beside Willow, with a smirk on his face that she could
have cheerfully slapped right off, was Spike Devlin.

**Help me, someone. Anyone?**

Buffy approached the pair at the door, pushing her
hands into the side pockets of her denim skirt.

"Willow...I'm having a hard time settling them down,"
she murmured. "Maybe this isn't a good idea...today.
Why don't you try Carolyn's class."

Her friend stared at her as though she'd lost every
last one of her marbles. She honestly couldn't believe
that Buffy was turning down a visit from Spike Devlin.

But, before she could say anything in reply, he cut
her off.

"I'd actually rather observe YOU, Miss Buffy. Watch
how you...handle yourself," he double entendred in
silken tones. "When the children aren't minding their
P's and Q's, I mean."

Trapped. Trapped like a caged ferret.


*************************************************

The instant that the door closed behind Willow, Buffy
dropped her smile and returned to her desk without
speaking one word to her unwanted guest.

As calmly as she could, she picked up her scissors
and continued the task of cutting out shapes of con-
struction paper.

Devlin strolled leisurely around the room, pausing to
study different displays of the children's work tacked
to the walls, slowly working his way towards her
desk.

Buffy ignored him, concentrating on cutting the paper
and not herself. In the state of mind she was in, she had
no doubt whatsoever that she would slice a finger off.

"What are you doing?" he asked, perching on the side
of her desk.

She stopped cutting and looked up at him. "Baking a
cake," she replied sarcastically, with a dead-pan ex-
pression.

The children snickered, and she could have kicked
herself. "Quiet!"

Devlin just smiled. "Need any help?" he whispered.

"No, thank you."

"You sure?"

"Completely."

He was silent for a few seconds. "I don't mind
helping."

"No, thank you," she said doggedly.

"My triangles are a bit lopsided, but my circles are
works of art. Just ask my mum."

Another wave of giggles swept through the room.

Buffy flung her head up and smacked her palm on
the desk. "THAT'S ENOUGH!" Looking up at Spike,
she scowled. "I'm sorry...but if you can't refrain from
disrupting my class, then...."

"ME?" he asked, pointing at himself. "YOU'RE the one
yelling at them."

She stared at him, her lips slightly parted. He was
absolutely right. HE had been whispering. SHE was the
one with the volume control problem.

The children's eyes bounced back and forth between the
two adults, like tiny spectators at a really intense
ping-pong tournament. It wasn't long before they began
fidgeting and whispering again.

*********************************************

Spike could see that the imminent loss of control
over her class was agitating Buffy. Since he didn't want
to be the cause of this problem, which would certainly
not endear him to her, he decided to take some action.

Leaning over, he spoke quietly to her. "I'll be right back,
luv."

Watching him walk out the door, Buffy was momentarily
tempted to lock it.

His car, the black Mustang she'd seen the other day, was
parked at the curb. He unlocked the trunk and reached inside,
bringing out a .....

"Oh, no," she said beneath her breath. This was the last
thing on earth that she needed at that particular moment.

Jumping to her feet, she intercepted him as he came
through the door. "No. You can't do that in here," she
said curtly. "I absolutely forbid you to...zip that back
up! I mean it...do NOT take that out in my classroom."

"Calm down," he said quietly. "I'm going to help."

"How?" she demanded. "By damaging their hearing?"

Spike opened the inner lining of it's case and removed
a guitar. "Do you see any electrical outlets on this instrument?"
he asked. "This, my lovely, is an acoustic guitar. It has a
red cedar top and rosewood back and sides, mother of pearl
inlay on the headstock, and a rosewood fret board."

He looped the strap around his neck. "My first guitar,"
he informed her. "I take it everywhere, but I rarely play it
except when I'm alone...because it's very special to me."

Buffy was quite unable to say anything.

"Today," he added, running his fingers lightly up and down
the neck of the instrument. "I want to play it...for you. And for
the little ones." He smiled at her, a genuine and open smile,
with no hidden meanings. "That all right with you, lovely?"

After a moment, she returned his smile. "Yes," she said
softly. "It's all right with me."

Actually...it was so VERY all right with her...that it
scared her.

Just a little......

****************************************************

Spike Devlin spent the next fifteen minutes of his
life enchanting twelve children...and their teacher.

Sitting on the edge of Buffy's desk, he moved his fingers
over the strings of his guitar, drawing out lovely melodies
designed to calm the wildest heart.

Then he left the desk and began to wander through the
room. It made Buffy smile, remembering how he prowled
the stage at Union Jack's. It must be a habit so deeply
ingrained that he did it without even thinking about it.


"Hush a bye, hush a bye
Go to sleepy little baby
When you wake, you shall have
And all the pretty little horses,"


The children never took their eyes off him, but they
remained as quiet as it was humanly possible for
them to be.


"Blacks and bays
Dapples and grays
All the pretty little horses."


His voice was every bit as beautifully tuned an
instrument as the guitar itself. He kept his tone low
and soft.


"Hush a bye, don't you cry
Go to sleepy little baby
When you wake, you shall have sweet cake
And all the pretty little horses.

A black and bay, a brown and gray
All the pretty little horses

All the black ones, and all the white ones
All the calm ones, and all the wild ones
All the pretty little horses.

All the pretty little horses."


He stopped singing, but continued to play softly. Five
minutes later, every child in the room was sound asleep.

Then he turned and smiled at her, and Buffy knew that
she was in danger of completely losing her heart if she
wasn't careful.

Problem was, she wasn't sure she wanted to be careful
anymore.


TBC....
Comments? I love 'em!

Part Eight....

Devlin placed the guitar back in it's case and propped
it up against the wall, then turned his penetrating blue
gaze on Buffy.

When their eyes met, he smiled and she blushed...which
only made his smile widen. He approached her with
slow, measured strides, resuming his seat on the edge
of her desk.

He said nothing, but took the extra pair of scissors out
of her pencil box, then picked up a sheet of red construction
paper and began cutting out the circles she had traced on
it earlier.

The room was quiet, and they worked in a surprisingly
comfortable silence with nothing but the soft sound of
the scissors to mar the peace.

When the chore was finished, Buffy stacked the different
shapes in neat little piles, and tossed the scraps into her
waste basket.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"My pleasure, Miss Buffy."

She could tell that he was waiting for her to make the
next move. "Listen," she began. "I was...I mean...I
know that I was a little...rude to you...before. But...it's
just that...that I'm not used to...."

"Not used to what?" he asked, softly. "Not used to a man
being interested in you? Being attracted to you?" His
voice dropped into a lower register. "Wanting you?"

These words sent a pleasant shiver up and down her spinal
column, but what he said next would have buckled her
knees had she been standing.

"You'll need to get used to it...Miss Buffy."

**Oh, help....**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She expected him to pack up and go, but he surprised her
yet again by showing no such inclination. Instead, he waited
until the children began to wake up, then sat at the back of
the room and watched as they did their "wake up stretches"
on the interlocking rubber mats in the middle of the floor.

Buffy was acutely aware of his eyes following her as she
moved around the room, and she couldn't forget the sound
of his voice telling her that she'd need to get used to being
wanted...by him. She wasn't quite sure this was something
she'd be able to do.

She'd had her share of male admirers throughout high school
and college, and had dated a few of the young men in Sunnydale
when she'd first arrived. Riley Finn had made no secret of the
fact that he most certainly was interested in more than casual
friendship.

But she had no experience with the sort of situation she was
in now. She'd never even met a man like Devlin before. He was
cocky and confident, completely sure of himself, and she had
the feeling that he usually got pretty much anything he wanted.

Spike Devlin lived in a totally different world, a world she had
no knowledge of, a world she could never belong in or fit into.

He had aspirations far beyond her scope, and probably wanted
much different things out of life. She was a small town girl, and
always would be. He was big city, born and bred, destined for
stardom, for fame and fortune.

These were things she had no interest in. Her goals in life
were much simpler. She loved her job, and couldn't imagine
doing anything else. Eventually, she wanted to be married and
have some children of her own. Being an only child, she'd grown
up lonely and so had planned to have at least three kids when she
found the right man to settle down with.

Spike Devlin wasn't the "settling down" type. How could he be? His
career was just getting up and running, and he would have to be
moving at a fast pace to keep it going in the right direction.

Buffy couldn't hope to keep up with someone like that.

And yet....

**He wants me...Spike Devlin, who could no doubt have any
girl he chose...wants me**

Yes, but for what? And for how long? Until the novelty wore
off?

He seemed interested now...but was it just the love of a
chase that was turning him on? If she stopped running...would
he still be there afterwards?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"All right, munchkins...this is called a command perfor-
mance." Spike sat on the bench beneath one of the
weeping willows and smiled at the children gathered
around him on the grass. "That means your wish is
my command. You tell me what you want to hear..and
if I can, I'll play it for you."

The entire faculty and miniature student body of
Willow Tree Preschool was present for this particular
performance. They all sat, grouped in their individual
classes, giggling and excited.

Buffy had to smile. Giggling and excited was a perfect
description....and the children were enjoying it as well.

The afternoon play period was almost over when
Miss Willow came outside to see what everyone was
watching. Within five minutes she decided that since
it was such a nice day, and they had such a special
guest, the period could be extended for a while.

The children's taste in music was fairly simple, and
well known. Standards like 'Old McDonald's Farm'
and 'Pop goes the Weasel' were requested and granted.

Devlin had a way with children that was very appealing. Not
a lot of men had such a natural rapport, or could be
so completely relaxed and at home in such a setting.

He not only played and sang the children's song re-
quests, he led them along with him, encouraging them
to sing at the top of their lungs, to make sure "the people
way in the back of the concert hall" would be able to hear
them.

"He's really something," Willow said quietly.

Buffy nodded. "He's definitely a surprise," she agreed.

There was a pause. "I get the feeling that you're a little
better acquainted with him than you let on," Willow said,
giving Buffy a speculative look. "You don't act as though
this is the first time you've met him...and I don't mean just
sitting and listening to him at Union Jack's either."

Buffy stared at her shoes for a moment. "He was here the
other day," she finally admitted. "We....talked."

"But how did he..." Willow gasped. "Something happened
the other night, didn't it? That's why you were so strange
when I asked you about the concert!"

"Willow..."

"You'd better tell me," her friend warned, a wide smile
on her face. "This is NOT something you can keep to
yourself."

Buffy's cheeks were bright red, she could literally feel them
heating up. She didn't have the faintest idea in the world
how she could explain to Willow about what had been going
on between her and Spike Devlin.

She avoided the situation by glancing at her watch. "It's
getting late," she said quickly. "I have to go get the snack
together."

"Buffy..."

"Later, Wils." Buffy said, making a promise of full
confession with her eyes.

Willow Tree provided a daily afternoon snack to all it's
students, and each day it was a different teacher's turn to
prepare it.

Today was Buffy's responsibility. She was turning to
go to the kitchenette in the main building when the kids
all began to applaud the end of Devlin's performance. Some
of them scrambled to their feet, jumping up and down in
excitement.

When they all scattered for a few minutes in the play yard,
Spike put his guitar back in it's case and walked over to
where Buffy and Willow were standing.

The owner and operator of Willow Tree was effusive in
her gratitude. "This has been such a treat for all of us,"
she said, smiling up into Devlin's eyes. "Thank you so
much."

"Don't mention it, pet," he said, returning her smile. "I
enjoyed it, too. They're a great group of kids." He looked
at Buffy. "Which isn't surprising, since they seem to have
great teachers."

Buffy was momentarily caught in his intense blue gaze,
but said nothing.

"Well," Willow said, sensing the the spark of electricity
that seemed to be zinging back and forth between Buffy
and Spike, "you have a whole new fan club now. The
kids, I mean. It's nice to have you around."

Buffy finally broke eye contact with Devlin. "Excuse me,"
she said softly. "I need to go inside and get their snacks
ready."

"Go ahead," Willow nodded. "I'll bring your class over
to the benches for you."

As Buffy turned and walked away, she heard Willow
asking Devlin whether Blue Eyed Devil would be playing
anywhere in the area before they left on their tour.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buffy stood in the darkened kitchenette, breaking
graham crackers along their dividing lines and
placing them in small baskets. There was one
basket for each table, and she made sure that there
was enough for each child to have two full crackers.

She was slicing apples onto paper plates when
the bat wing door creaked open behind her. Her
heart began beating at twice it's normal pace, and
she knew who was standing there.

Devlin crossed the small room and stood directly
behind her, so close that she could feel the heat of
his body.

"What about you, Buffy?" he asked quietly, dropping the
appellation 'Miss'.

She swallowed nervously. "What about me?" she
echoed, reaching for another apple.

He placed his hands over hers, making her stop
cutting up fruit. "Do YOU think it's nice to have me
around?"

Buffy closed her eyes for just a moment as he turned
her around to face him. "Wh...what?" she stammered,
looking up at him.

"Do YOU think it's nice to have me around?" he asked
again.

Giving her no opportunity to reply, he put his hands on
her waist, then slowly...so slowly...he lowered his head
and captured her mouth in a kiss that was both tenderly
sweet and madly passionate at the same time.

**Oh, God...help...**



TBC.....
Comments? I love 'em!

Part Nine....


He kissed her until she felt herself becoming
light headed. With a technique that was truly
amazing, he alternated between firm pressure and
light touches, just barely running his tongue along
the closure of her lips, until they parted and invited
him inside to play.

After an initial moment of uncertainly, Buffy allowed
her tongue to tentatively touch his. He tasted of
coffee and a faint trace of peppermint, probably from
toothpaste.

When he drew back, he leaned down and whispered
in her ear. "Miss Buffy...has anyone ever told you
that you kiss like a dream come true?"

Her eyes opened halfway, and they were slightly
unfocused. "Mm...no, not really."

Devlin chuckled softly. "Good, then I'm the first."

A cacophony of childish voices from outside
cleared her scattered mind, and she suddenly
remembered exactly where she was.

Placing her hands on his chest, she pushed
him away. "I...I have to finish this. It's...it's
time for the..."

"Afternoon snack?" he offered.

Buffy nodded. "Yes. That." She turned away
and resumed working on the apples.

He watched her in silence for a moment. "We're
playing at Union Jack's tonight," he finally
said. "Will you come?"

She kept slicing apples, and didn't reply.

"Buffy...will you come to Union Jack's tonight?"
he asked again.

Still, she said nothing.

"Buffy!"

"I don't know!" came bursting out of her. "I don't
think I can."

Spike placed his hands on the counter top on either
side of her, caging her in. "You don't think you CAN?"
he asked bluntly. "Or...you don't think you SHOULD?"

"What's the difference?"

"Oh, there's a big difference, luv," he said softly. "You
don't think you CAN means you're too busy to come.
You don't think you SHOULD means that you're afraid
to."

Buffy tried a weak laugh. "I'm definitely NOT afraid,"
she replied. Which of them she was trying to convince,
she wasn't quite sure.

"Yes, you are." He nuzzled the side of her neck. "And
it's exciting, isn't it?"

She shook her head. "Hardly."

Devlin's mouth traveled up until he was once again
speaking in her ear. "It makes the hot blood race
through your veins like wildfire. Your heart beats
harder, 'til you think it'll just explode if you can't have
what you want...what you need. Tell me, Buffy," he
whispered. "Tell me what you want...and I'll move
heaven and earth to give it to you."

If she knew the answer to THAT complex question,
she wouldn't be in the predicament she was in
now.

Impatiently, he put his hands on her shoulders and
forced her to turn around. "Say you'll come tonight,"
he said, taking a handful of her hair and tugging on
it until her head dropped back and her neck arched
invitingly. He pressed his lips to the place where
the blood was visibly throbbing, his breath hot on
her skin. "Say it!"

Every ounce of her resistance drained out of her. "I
will," she said, almost inaudibly. "I'll come."

Devlin pulled back and looked into her eyes. "Promise
me," he demanded.

However hard she tried, Buffy couldn't break away
from that laser blue gaze. "I promise."

He nodded and smiled, satisfied. "Now," he said. "It's
gonna be a long time before I see you tonight, so
kiss me again. Give me a kiss that'll last me until
then."

Helpless to do anything else, Buffy complied.

Devlin was the first to break away. "See you tonight,
luv," he said, pinching her cheek, then heading
out the door to say goodbye to the children.


****************************************************

Hours later, Buffy stood in front of her full length
mirror.

She'd decided to wear a cream colored tank
top, covered with a blouse made of the same colored
lace. It had a V-neckline, and the sleeves were snug
all the way to her wrists where they ended in a
bell of lace that covered half of her hands.

Her skirt was a black leather wrap around, it's
hem just skimming the tops of her boots.

After applying her make up, she'd had a twenty
minute internal debate over how to wear her
hair. Up in a loose chignon, or tumbling down
her back?

She'd compromised by leaving it down, but pulling
it back and securing it with a gold barrette.

When there was nothing more she could do, she
grabbed her car keys and purse, and headed out
the door, still wondering what in the name of god
she thought she was doing.

******************************************************

Union Jack's was at maximum capacity when
she arrived. Certain that there was no way she'd
be able to get in, she was ready to turn around and
go home when someone tapped her on the shoulder.

"Are you Miss Summers?" The boy was wearing
black pants and a shirt with the club's namesake
on the back. His name tag read "Tim."

Buffy nodded that she was indeed Miss Summers,
and the boy beckoned her to follow him.

He led her around the building and through a side
door that opened directly into the main room. Every
table in the place was occupied, save one in the
middle, close to the stage.

Tim seated her at the small table, then asked if
he could bring her something to drink and if she
needed a menu.

Buffy declined the menu, but ordered a glass of
white wine. Feeling ridiculously conspicuous, she
didn't allow her eyes to wander around the room.

Five minutes crawled by before the house lights
darkened slightly and Blue Eyed Devil hit the
stage.

Spike Devlin's eyes zeroed in on her immediately,
and he grinned broadly at her as he picked up his
guitar.

Determined not to let him rattle her, she lifted her
chin and met his gaze with hers.

He was delighted with this response, and he winked
at her, adjusting his microphone.

"Well, hi there Sunnydale," he said, looking out over
his audience. "Didja miss us?"

The crowd applauded wildly, some of them releasing
whistles that only a dog should be capable of hearing.

"I guess that means yes," the bass player said when
the noise died down.

Devlin laughed and looked at him. "S'nice to be wanted,
innit?"

The drummer gave them the down beat, and the band
began making the walls shake once again.

Devlin stepped up to his mic.

"Watch closely now," he said. "You'll observe a
curious exchange of energies." Deliberately, he
looked at Buffy. "Are you a figment of my imagina-
tion....or am I one of yours?"

"Watch closely now
Are you watching me now?

Your eyes are like fingers
They're touching my body
And arousing my soul
Riding the passion arising inside me
How high can I go?

You're coming with me, girl
I'm gonna show you how

When it's scary...don't look down."

Buffy couldn't take her eyes off him.

"Watch closely now
Are you watching me now?"

The song had a fast, hard beat, and the words
brought back the memory of the last time she'd
sat in this room and listened to him sing, the night
he'd made her promise to watch him.

"I see the hunger arise in your eyes
And it's urging me on
Higher and harder
And faster and farther
Than I've ever gone

We're coming closer, lady
Don't you leave me now
We're gonna make it
Don't look down.."

Was he promising her something...or warning
her?

"Maybe I'm taking me too many chances
With no net at all
Baby, I'll teach you at least
That you've gotta be free when you fall"

Taking chances was not something she was good
at. After a lifetime of safe and secure, how could she
even begin to take this particular chance?

"Watch closely now
Are you watching me now?"

But if she didn't, would she regret it for the rest
of her life?

"I'm the master magician
That's setting you free
From the lies you've been told

When you're breaking your back
Bring your last straw to me
I turn straw into gold"

Would it be worth it? Taking the chance...risking
the possibilities...

"I'm gonna need you later
Will you be around?
And I can take it
Don't look down

Watch closely now
Are you watching me now?"

**Yes...I'm watching you...I am**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TBC....


Comments?

Title: Blue Eyed Devil
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks.
Rating: Will vary, up to NC-17.
Summary: AU. Spike Devlin is the
lead singer for the band "Blue Eyed
Devil." Buffy Summers is a local
preschool teacher. They meet, she
runs, he chases....



Part 10.....


"Let's bring it down a little, okay? How about some-
thing soft and sexy?"

The applause was enormous, and went on for some
time.

Devlin grinned. "God, I love this crowd."

The bass player nodded. "They're something special,
all right."

The band's lead singer turned and looked straight
at Buffy. "Very special," he said softly.


"Well just look at that girl
With the lights coming up in her eyes
She's got to be somebody's baby
She must be somebody's baby.."


Her cheeks turned pink, but she kept her eyes
on him.


"All the guys on the corner
Stand back and let her walk on by
She's got to be somebody's baby
She must be somebody's baby
She's so fine..."


Actually, she was nobody's baby...not yet.


"She's probably somebody's only light
Gonna shine tonight
Yeah, she's probably somebody's baby, all right."


He smiled and winked at her. She reached for
her glass and drank the rest of the wine.


"I heard her talking with her friend
When she thought nobody else was around
She said she's got to be somebody's baby
She must be somebody's's baby."


A waiter appeared at her table, and she ordered
another glass of Chardonnay.


"Cause when the cars and the signs
And the street lights light up the town
She's got to be somebody's baby
She must be somebody's's baby
She's got to be somebody's baby
She's so fine."


The room began to feel somewhat hot.


"She's gonna be somebody's only light
Gonna shine tonight
Yeah, she's gonna be somebody's baby tonight."


A new glass of wine was placed in front of her.


"I try to shut my eyes, but I can't
Get her out of my sight
I know I'm gonna know her
But I gotta get her over her fright."


Once again, the waiter left without requesting
payment.


"Well, I'm just gonna walk up to her
I'm gonna talk to her tonight."


The unaccustomed alcohol was starting to make
itself known, giving her a warmish glow all over.


"Yeah, she's gonna be somebody's only light
Gonna shine tonight
Oh, yeah..she's gonna be somebody's baby tonight."


Lacing her fingers together, she threw all of
her caution away and gave him the most dazzling
smile she had as she met his gaze.


"Gonna shine tonight, make her mine tonight."


He stared at her, a slow smile forming on his
sensuous mouth.


"Mm-hmm...she's gonna be somebody's baby tonight."


This time, she managed to control her blush.

Barely.....


****************************************************

Thirty minutes later, the band took a break.

Three of them jumped down and headed straight
for the bar.

One of them headed straight for her.

"You came," Devlin said, leaning on the
table.

Buffy shrugged and finished her fourth glass of
wine. "I told you that I would."

"Well, that's true." He gave her a speculative
look. "Did you have some dinner tonight before you
came here?" he asked.

She had to think for a moment. "I...yes. Yes, I did,"
she nodded. "Why?"

"Nothing, luv," he replied. "It's just that you've been
drinking, but I haven't seen you order anything to eat."

"I wasn't hungry. I ate before I left my house."

The band was heading back to the stage for their
next set. Devlin stayed where he was.

"Umm...I think they're gonna start without you,"
Buffy pointed out.

"They can't start without me," he said. "It's my
band." Leaning a little closer, he lowered his
voice. "I want to kiss you so badly I can hardly
stand it."

Buffy's heart lurched in her chest. She had no idea
how to answer such a provocative statement.

The bass player twanged a discordant note, and
Devlin looked slightly irritated.

"Shit," he swore softly. "I have to get back up there."

"Okay," Buffy said agreeably.

"Listen...I'm gonna drive you home tonight, luv."

No, no, no....bad idea.

"But my car is here," she protested.

"I'll drive you home in it. I have someone who'll
come and pick me up." He started to return
to the stage, then turned back to her. "Do
NOT try and leave without me. Got it?"

Buffy had to smile at her reference to what she
had done the night they'd met. "Got it."

Devlin returned her smile. "That's my girl," he
murmured.

** Your girl? **


***********************************************

"Okay...this is the last one. We need..."

The air was peppered with cries of "No!"

"Oh, come on," Devlin laughed. "We're beat. Just
look at us....you've worn us out...and I have plans
for the rest of the night!"

Buffy had one elbow on the table, holding her
chin in the cupped palm of her hand, resting her
slightly fuzzy head. His announcement snapped
her back to full alert.

Plans? He had plans? He had plans for....THE
REST OF THE NIGHT?!

Instinct told her to run and not stop until she got
home. If he had plans with some girl, she didn't
particularly want to know about it.

Buffy was surprised at how unpalatable the thought
really was. She would have to start getting her
defense mechanisms up and running again. No way
would she allow these feelings to show.

Sighing deeply, she listened to him sing for what
she was determined would be the very last time.


"Friday night I crashed your party
Saturday I said I'm sorry
Sunday came and trashed me out again."


The song was fast paced and loud. Not what she
would have chosen to hear for her final time.


"I was only having fun
Wasn't hurting anyone
And we all enjoyed the weekend
For a change."


He couldn't have sang something soft and sweet,
something just for....


"I've been stranded in the combat zone
I walked through Bedford-Stuy alone
Even rode my motorcycle in the rain
And you told me not to drive
But I made it home alive
And you said that only proves
That I'm insane."


Buffy couldn't take her eyes off him....again. He
was sweaty and smiling, obviously having a wonder-
ful time.

He suddenly pointed at her, and sang...


"You may be right,
I may be crazy
But it just might be a lunatic
You're looking for
Turn out the light
Don't try to save me

You may be wrong for all I know
But you may be right."


What the hell was he doing? Buffy turned around
and looked to see if he was perhaps pointing at
someone behind her.


"Remember how I found you there
Alone in your electric chair
I told you dirty jokes until you smiled."


The only people behind her were definitely already
paired into couples. There were no single girls to be
seen.

Confused, she looked back and found his eyes
on her.


"You were lonely for a man
I said take me as I am
'Cause you might enjoy some madness
For a while.

Now think of all the years you tried
To find someone to satisfy you
I might be as crazy as you say.."


Out of the blue sky, she remembered him
telling her he would drive her home, and have
someone pick him up. His "plans for the rest of
the night" girl, no doubt.


"If I'm crazy, then it's true
That it's all because of you
And you wouldn't want me any other way."


Well, she was completely sober now, so there
was no reason for him to delay his stupid plans.


"You may be right
I may be crazy
But it just might be a lunatic
You're looking for

It's too late to fight
It's too late to change me
You may be wrong, for all I know
But you may be right."


The song ended, and the audience clamored
for more.

But Devlin just smiled as he unclipped his guitar
strap.

"Gotta save something for next time," he
said. "You've been great, though. G'night."

Everyone in the place got to their feet and rattled
the silverware with their applause. It went on and on,
but there were no more encores forthcoming.

The band left the stage, and someone killed the spot-
lights. Buffy waited for a break in the crowd as they
all headed for the exits.

"Did you like the music, luv?"

Spike Devlin hadn't followed his band mates offstage
into the rear of the club. He had jumped down from
the stage again, and headed straight for Buffy,
stopping only to thank anyone who praised the band.

"Listen, honey," he added, shaking his damp curls
back from his face, "I smell like a wet pony right now.
Would you mind waiting while I grab a quick shower?"

Buffy's lips parted slightly in surprise. "Wh..what?"

Devlin grinned. "I want to take you out for something
to eat, but if I get in a car with you like this...you'll
find it pretty offensive."

She looked at him. Ohhhhh....plans. He'd meant plans
with her.

Before she could say anything, he reached for her
hand and brought it to his lips. "Promise I'll be quick,
luv," he said softly. "Wait for me?"

"Yes," Buffy nodded, feeling ridiculously happy. "I'll
wait."



TBC....

Comments?
>

Part Eleven...


Good as his word, he was back in just under
10 minutes.

Buffy watched him approach, her heart beating a
little faster. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans
and a black t-shirt that looked as though it had shrunk
a size in the dryer. The sleeves in particular fit very
snugly around his nicely muscled biceps.

His hair was a soft mop of loose waves, still damp
from his shower, and he was pulling on a short, brown
leather jacket.

"Ready to go?" he asked, holding out one hand.

Buffy nodded. He looked, and smelled, wonderful.

She placed her hand in his, allowing him to draw her
to her feet. Halfway to the door, she pulled back.

"Oh, wait...I need to pay the bill," she said, opening her
bag.

Devlin shook his head. "It's done, love. All taken care of."

"By who?" Buffy asked.

"By me. I told Tim to bring you anything you wanted."

"Oh. Well....thank you."

Those blue eyes looked into hers with definite
intent. "Don't thank me yet, love," he said softly. "I'm
just getting started doing things for you."

The words made her blush from head to toe, but he
had turned around and was pulling her along behind
him and he missed it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


In the rear parking area, Buffy handed him her
car keys. He unlocked her door and helped her
in gracefully.

As she buckled herself in, he went around the
front of her Camry and seated himself in the driver's
seat, then adjusted it slightly.

Before he turned the key in the ignition, he looked
at her. "Much as I'd love taking you someplace
elegant," he said, "it's late and I don't think we'll
find a place like that still open, so...got any ideas?"

Buffy thought for a moment. "There's a place right off
the interstate that's open 24 hours. A little coffee
shop," she suggested.

Devlin started the car. "Sounds good to me. Just
point me in the right direction."

**Me, too...**


************************************************

"Tell me about Miss Buffy."

They were sitting in the very back booth of
Sunnydale's International House of Pancakes.

Outside of a couple of long haul truck drivers,
a group of giggling teenagers, and a CHP officer,
they had the place pretty much to themselves.

In the twenty minutes it had taken them to
drive from Union Jack's to the IHOP, Buffy had
learned a couple of new things about Spike
Devlin.

Number one...that he was a careful driver, and
number two...that in spite of the fact that he made his
living from rock and roll, he had very eclectic taste
in music.

He'd fooled around with the radio, tuning it from one
station to another; jazz, soft rock, country, and even
classical. Every time a station went to a commercial,
he flipped to another one, then asked if she had any
CDs in the car.

Buffy had taken a handful of them out of the small
compartment in the console, displaying them for his
perusal. Surprisingly, he had chosen a Beatles CD,
a collection of their biggest hits.

Even though the band had broken apart years before
she was born, she had always been partial to them.
They had been her mother's favorite group, and Buffy
had been raised with their songs as the background
music for her life.

Sitting and waiting for a red light to change to green,
Devlin had sung along softly...

"I give her all my love
That's all I do
And if you saw my love
You'd love her, too
I love her..."

His fingers kept time on the steering wheel,
tapping it gently.

"She gives me everything
And tenderly
The kiss my lover brings
She brings to me
And I love her..."

Almost hypnotized by the display, Buffy had no
problem imagining him singing this song on stage.

Alone...sitting on a stool with his guitar...bathed in
the soft glow of a single spotlight...singing...

"A love like ours
Could never die
As long as I have you near me.."

Singing to her...

"Bright are the stars that shine
Dark is the sky
I know this love of mine
Will never die
And I love her..."

Buffy had been a little disappointed when he'd
turned into the restaurant's parking lot. She'd
have been quite happy to sit right there and listen
to him forever.

**********************************************

"There's not all that much to tell about Miss
Buffy."

"Come on...tell me something." His voice was a
soft invitation, seducing her into revealing anything
he might care to know.

She drew a deep breath. "Miss Buffy is...a pre-
school teacher. She attended UCLA...moved to
Sunnydale a year ago when her best friend offered
her a job teaching at her school...."

Devlin chuckled. "Okay...we've covered all the
basics. Now let's get down to the details."

Her mouth suddenly dry, Buffy picked up her
water glass and took a sip. "Such as?"

He leaned forward and tilted his head. She'd
noticed this gesture before. It was the kind of
thing that made whomever he was talking to feel
like he was hanging on their every word.

"Such as, is Miss Buffy...involved...with any-
one? Someone...special?" he asked.

Her restless heart once again began pounding
madly beneath her breast. Carefully, she placed
the glass back on the table.

"Not at the moment," she confessed.

Devlin smiled. "Happy to hear that, love. I don't like
invading another man's territory...although I will
if I have to."

"Territory?" Buffy asked, arching her brow. "You
make me sound like the Louisiana Purchase."

"No," he shook his head. "You're far more valuable
than that. And," he added, lowering his voice to a
deeper timbre, "far nicer to...explore."

***********************************************

She was saved from having to respond to his
comment by the waitress arriving with their order.

The woman was no sooner gone, when Buffy
discovered another new facet of this man's
personality. He had a serious sweet tooth.

She watched, fascinated, as he spread butter
liberally over the surface of the pancakes on his
plate, then in between each one as well.

Choosing a bottle from the selection offered,
he poured a veritable ocean of syrup over
them, until they were soaked nearly to the
point of falling to pieces.

When he caught her staring at this spectacle,
he grinned and shrugged. "I know...I'm worse
than a child, aren't I? I can't help it. I've always
been this way. I used to drive my mother crazy
by eating my dessert before my dinner."

Buffy smiled, too. Picking up the salt dispenser,
she shook it lightly over the omelet she'd ordered.

"I'm sure that's not the only reason you drove your
mother crazy," she observed.

He swallowed the bite of pancake he'd taken. "Oh,
sassy," he murmured approvingly. "I love it."

Buffy blushed slightly, forcing herself to maintain
eye contact and not let him rattle her.

After a moment, he asked, "How's your omelet?"

"It's good," she said, taking another bite. "How are
your...?" She gestured with her fork.

"Delicious." He cut off a substantial bite. "Taste,"
he offered, holding the fork out.

"Oh, I don't think so," she demurred.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to go into a diabetic coma."

*************************************************

"...but it's really all I ever wanted to do. From
the day I picked up a guitar for the first time,
I knew."

More than an hour had passed since they'd
finished eating. Absorbed with each other, they'd
paid no attention to the passing of the time,
and just sat there talking.

"Did you always want to be a teacher?"

Buffy nodded her head. "My first day in kinder-
garten? I didn't want to leave. I was in the morning
session and I tried to talk my mother into letting
me attend the afternoon session, too."

"And did she let you?" he asked, amused.

"No...she had to pull me out of the classroom to
the car, dragging my feet every step of the way.
My poor mother. She was so embarrassed."

Devlin smiled, obviously picturing the scene in
his head.

Buffy saw this. "Are you laughing at me?" she
demanded.

"Of course I am," he admitted. "It's funny."

There was light dancing in his eyes as he studied
her face.

"I want to tell you something," he finally said.

Seeing the look on his face, she clasped her
hands together on the table. "What?"

"Do you know," he began, speaking in that
husky voice, the voice she could FEEL, as
well as hear. "that you have the sweetest mouth
I've ever seen? I've been fantasizing about it since
the minute I saw you."

Buffy gulped down a lump in her throat, unable
to speak a coherent word in the face of his dis-
turbing...and arousing...remark.

Devlin reached for her hand. Turning it palm up,
he rubbed his thumb over the bracelet of lines
circling her wrist, pressing down hard when he
felt her pulse quicken.

"Miss Buffy," he said softly. "I could fall in love with
you...without even trying."

Every nerve ending she possessed was jumping
with an electric zing, just from the touch of his
hand on hers.

"Do you think," he added, lacing his fingers with
hers, "that you could fall in love with me, too?"



TBC....

Comments?

Part 12....


Buffy's lips parted on a softly indrawn breath.

Never in her life had a man stated his intentions so
clearly, and she wasn't at all sure how to cope with it
now that one had.

The way he was eyeing her made her feel that this
man enjoyed making her squirm by uttering out-
rageous statements, then sitting back to observe
her reactions.

Determined not to give him the upper hand this time,
she rallied herself as quickly as she could.

"I...I barely know you," she stammered. "Falling
in love isn't something you do in a couple of days."

"Sometimes it is," he pointed out. "Sometimes it
only takes hours, sometimes minutes. And sometimes,"
he added, stroking her wrist with his thumb, "all it
takes is a moment. Just one."

**Oh, I know...I KNOW..**

She shook her head. "I don't know anything about you,"
she said, trying not to be distracted by the way he
was touching her.

Devlin kept up the gentle massage, smiling the smile
that Buffy surmised charmed a lot of women right out
of their clothing.

"Ask me anything you like, love. My life is laid bare
for you." He chuckled down deep in his throat. "So
to speak."

Buffy had a million questions to ask him...and they
all disappeared from her brain at the same moment,
leaving her with nothing but silly small talk.

"Well...for instance...how old are you?"

She wanted to take the question back the moment
it came out of her mouth. Was that REALLY the
best she could do?

"Older than you, I'm sure," he replied, folding his
hand over her palm.

Was he avoiding the question?

"I'm almost thirty."

No, he was not.

"Next question?"

Okay. Next question.

"Um...your favorite things? Like your favorite
food?"

"Chocolate cake," he answered promptly.

Buffy gave him a skeptical look. "I meant real
food."

"Chocolate cake IS real food."

"But you don't eat it for dinner," she said.

"I've been known to."

She wasn't a bit surprised by that.

"Your favorite song?"

"The ones I write. Listen," he said. "How about
I save you some time? My favorite color is green.
My favorite time of the year is autumn, favorite
holiday is Christmas, favorite movie is...don't
laugh...The Wizard of Oz. I like going to movies
and reading, when I have the time. I'm difficult to
get up in the morning and I'm usually late for
every appointment I make. I'm concerned about
the situation in the Middle East, I'm pro-choice,
and I think OJ did it."

It was the longest speech she'd ever heard
him make, and it stunned her just a little.

"Anything else? Feel free to ask."

Buffy stared at him, helplessly. "What do you
want from me?"

He studied her face for a moment, brushing back
a stray lock of her hair. Leaning just a little closer,
he looked straight into her eyes, demanding that
she do the same to him.

"I want...to wake up in the morning with your hair
spread out on my pillow," he said softly. "I want to
hold you on my lap and feed you chocolate covered
cherries. I want to feel your breath on my lips...and
your fingers on my skin...and your body beneath
me, and over me, and around me." He placed his
finger under her chin and tilted her face. "I want
YOU," he whispered.

And...God help them all...she wanted him, too.


**********************************************

His gaze locked with hers and suspended her
in it's tender light.

Giving her a little grin, he allowed her a moment
alone to collect her thoughts while he paid the
bill.

When he came back and stood beside the
table, Buffy grabbed her purse and jacket and
scooted out of the booth.

Without asking, he reached for her hand...and
without hesitating, she gave it to him.

A fresh breeze touched her burning cheeks as
they walked slowly towards her car. When they
reached their destination, Buffy waited for him
to unlock the passenger side door of her car.

But he did no such thing. Instead, he turned her
until she was facing him. Placing his hands on
the roof of the car, one on either side of her, he
nudged her gently against the door with his body
pressed to hers.

Looking down at her, he asked, "Have you
decided, yet?"

She didn't try to pretend that she was unaware
of what on earth he was talking about. "I...I
think I could. If I let myself."

"Oh, Miss Buffy," he sighed on a soft laugh. "Please
let yourself."

In the next moment, they came together, their lips
meeting in a feverishly moist kiss. It wasn't gentle
and sweet, but hard and passionate, almost bruising.

Her hands were on his shoulders, his were holding
her hips as their mouths worked together in a fierce
exploration.

Pulling back to breathe, Buffy nearly collapsed as
she felt his lips travel down the length of her throat.
When he came to the small hollow at it's base, he
tongued it delicately.

Passion rose like a tsunami, starting in the middle
of the ocean with a single swell, then scaling to
breathtaking heights before it crashed over them,
leaving them weak in the knees and panting for air.

She swallowed hard, dizzy with desire and a linger-
ing insecurity.

"Buffy," he breathed hotly against her skin. "I want to
make love to you. Want you so much...you beautiful,
beautiful girl." He kissed and nuzzled the side of her
neck. "Say you want me, too."

Her hands gripped him more tightly, holding on for
dear life. "I do," she said weakly. "I do want you."

It wasn't enough. "Say my name," he begged.

"Spike," she whispered into his shirt front. "I want
you...Spike."

He must have been able to sense her sudden shy-
ness and lack of certainty, because he stepped
back and cupped her face in his hands.

"Don't be frightened of me," he said. "I'll be very
careful with your heart...and I promise I'll never
break it."




TBC...
Feedback is wonderful!

Title: Blue Eyed Devil
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks.
Rating: Up to NC-17
Summary: Spike Devlin is the lead
singer for the band 'Blue Eyed Devil'.
Buffy Summers is a local preschool
teacher. They meet. She runs. He
chases...and he's about to catch her!




Part 13....

Nothing in Buffy's limited experience had
prepared her for this man. Sinfully handsome,
wickedly sexy, and seductively charming...it
was a heady combination of parts that went into
the makeup of his being, and she had no idea in
the world how to deal with them.

Oh, but....she wanted it so badly. Wanted
him....possibly more than she'd ever wanted anything
in her life.

She felt his hands on her back, under her jacket
but over her blouse. They were warm hands...strong
and certain. He definitely didn't have any trouble
deciding what HE wanted from this relationship.

"You're thinking so hard about something," he
murmured, apparently quite amused by the notion
that a woman would have to think over whether or not
she wanted him to touch her. "I wish I could see inside
your mind...I don't suppose you'll tell me."

"M..." She almost called him Mr. Devlin. Well, THAT
would surely be a laugh riot, calling him Mister after
those mind drugging kisses. "Spike, I....is that your
real name?"

Devlin sighed and pulled back slightly. "Um, no. My
mother didn't take one look at me after giving birth
and say "He looks like a Spike". I sort of...acquired
the nickname in school, and it just....stuck."

Buffy parted her lips to say something, but he placed
his finger over them to hush her. "Before you ask...my
given name is William. William Christopher Devlin."

She looked up at him and shrugged. "Mine is Elizabeth
Anne," she said, figuring it was a good idea to exchange
this information.

"Well," he said quietly. "It's a very pretty name, to be
sure...but I kind of like Buffy, so I think I'll stay with
that. If you don't mind, of course."

The part of her brain that was still retaining a smattering
of sanity allowed her to nod in agreement.

Devlin pulled her closer. "I just love the idea of whispering,"
he added, leaning down and doing just that into her ear,
"Buffy...you're so lovely...so soft...and sweet...Buffy..."
His breath stirred the soft tendrils of her hair. "...when I
make love to you."

Her head tipped back and she stared at the stars as his
lips caressed her ear, then her cheek, then her throat...be-
fore finding hers again.

Surprisingly, he didn't close his eyes this time either. He
locked his gaze with hers, watching as the different
expressions flickered through their green depths.

He tightened his arms, and she immediately slid
hers around his neck, holding on to him, keeping him
where she needed him to be.

When he finally pulled back, she stared at him with
dazzled eyes. "Now what?"

His smile was tender, almost as though he was
speaking to a child. "Now...I take you home."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Buffy directed him to her house, taking the shortest
route she could come up with. She wasn't quite sure
why she was in such a hurry for them to arrive at
her house, but she didn't question it too closely
either.

When he pulled into the driveway of the small two-
bedroom house she was renting, he set the parking
brake and turned off the ignition.

Buffy's hands were clammy with nerves. She didn't
know whether to stay put or run like hell and lock
herself safely on the other side of her door.

The click of a seat belt latch being undone sounded
off in her head like a gunshot, making her jump. Be-
fore she could react any further, he had leaned over
and unfastened hers as well.

Looking up at him, she found his gaze on her,
his eyes so soft that she could taste his sweetness
before his lips touched hers.

"Buffy," he said, breathing warmly on her skin. "Are
you...will you invite me inside, darling?"

"In...inside?" she asked, her heartbeat doing wind-
sprints beneath her breast.

He seemed to understand everything about her without
even trying to puzzle it out. "Inside your house...inside
your life...inside your..."

"Yes!" she yelped, cutting him off before she was so
completely undone that she melted into a sugary
puddle right in front of him. "Please...come inside
my...my house," she said, and left it at that.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As she unlocked her front door, she could hear
the small brass clock on her mantle striking the
hour. One, two, three chimes....

Buffy was honestly surprised. The cliche "times
flies" had never seemed quite so apropos before.

She dropped her bag on the sofa, then peeled off
her jacket and dumped that as well. Gathering up
all of her nerve, she turned to speak to the man who
had crashed into her life so abruptly, mussing it up
until she didn't know if she were coming or going,
up from down, day from night.

"Can I...offer you anything? To drink!" she added
quickly when his eyes sparked at her invitation.

But he just smiled. "I'm fine, thanks," he assured
her, looking about at his surroundings. "Nice house,"
he said, glancing at a few still unpacked cartons. "Been
here long?"

"Um...no, actually just about a month. Before I moved
in here, I was in an apartment a few blocks away," she
explained, her cheeks stained red at the idea that he
might think her to be rather lazy, the type of person who
couldn't organize their lives and their living space in a
reasonable amount of time.

Devlin nodded. "I hate moving," he said. "Although I
suppose I'll have to get around to it one of these days. Get
a permanent place here in the states." He grinned
boyishly. "Gotta stop living out of suitcases."

Buffy hated to bring up the subject. "But you're going on
tour," she pointed out.

"I know," he agreed. "But when it's over...I want to find a
place and settle in." He paced slowly towards her. "Any
suggestions on where I might do that?"

His thumbs were hooked in the belt loops of his jeans,
drawing her eye.

"Um...well, I would guess...that is...where...where do you
do most of your...your work?" she asked, purposely looking
slightly to the left of him.

He took in and released a deep breath. "We record in
Los Angeles, right now," he said. "But that's not written
in stone. You set up the right equipment, it can be any-
where you want it. Sunnydale...for instance."

Before she could reply, he took her hand and tugged
her across the living room, then urged her to sit down
on the green and blue plaid sofa she'd found at a local
garage sale.

"Relax, love," he said, turning her until her back was
to him and placing his hands on her shoulders. "You're
all....tensed up."

It was a testament to her state of mind that it took her
a few moments to realize that all he was doing was
massaging her shoulders...rather expertly at that.

His touch was gentle and direct, easing the tension
from her. She could actually feel it draining away, leaving
her limp and pliable.

Leaning back, she sighed. "You're very good at that."

"I've been on the other end of one enough times to know
what I'm doing," he explained.

Yeah. She just bet he had.

Without consciously wanting to, she tensed again. "Well,
you must have been paying attention to...whoever was
doing you...doing IT!" she tacked on hastily.

Spike laughed, his head dropping forward and resting
on her shoulder.

"Don't laugh at me," Buffy said fretfully.

"I'm not, sweetheart," he replied, taking a deep breath. "I
promise you, I'm not. Not in a bad, making fun of you, way.
You're just so damn cute sometimes." His hands moved to
her upper arms and pulled her back. "I can't resist you, you
know." Tucking her hair behind one ear, he brushed the
backs of his fingers against her cheek. "You're so
completely....irresistible."

Standing up, he drew her to her feet, keeping her in
front of him, but still facing away.

As his hands moved down her arms, he placed
his lips close to her ear....

"You want commitment
Take a look into my eyes.."
....he sang softly.

"They burn with a fire
Just for you now."

Reaching her hands, he took them and pulled
them up until her arms were winding around the
back of his neck.

"Until the end of time
I would do anything
I'd beg...I'd steal...I'd lie
To have you in these arms tonight.."

When he had her arms where he wanted them,
his palms slid down her body and held her by
her waist.

"Baby, I want you
Like the roses want the rain
You know I need you
Like a poet needs the pain.."

She had to lock her knees to keep from slipping
to the floor right then and there.

"I would give anything
My blood, my love, my life.."

Her eyes drifted closed when she felt him tugging
her blouse from the waist band of her skirt.

"If you were in these arms tonight
I'd hold you...I'd need you
I'd get down on my knees to you
And make everything all right.."

Buffy felt him bend his knees slightly, then press
his front more intimately against her back. She
could feel the hardness of his arousal rubbing
against her bottom.

"If you were in these arms
I'd love you...I'd please you
I'd tell you that I'd never leave you
And love you...till the end of time.."

His fingers came up to begin undoing her blouse. One
button....then two...then three....then.....

"If you were in these arms tonight..."

That voice like rough velvet, singing only to her. It
was really happening. He was seducing her with
his voice while he undressed her with his hands.

"We stared at the sun, and we made a promise
A promise this world would never bind us.."

Her blouse slipped down her arms, falling to the
floor to lie in a champagne colored puddle at her
feet.

Devlin's hands moved slowly back up her arms,
caressing her skin. His fingers slipped under the
straps of her tank top.

"These are my words
Our words are our songs
Our songs are our prayers
Our prayers keep me strong.."

Each strap was eased down off her shoulders. In-
stead of slipping them all the way off, though, his hands
moved back to her waist, encircling it, moving her ever
so slightly to the sensuous cadence of his voice as it
purred in her ear.

"It's what I believe
If you were in my arms tonight.."

Still holding her waist, he stepped around in front
of her. One hand then moved up to unfasten the clip
holding her hair back. He dropped the barrette onto the
coffee table, and then his fingers delved deep into her hair,
mussing all it's tidy perfection. He played gently with
the soft strands, dragging his fingers through it slowly.

"Your clothes are scattered all over our room
And everything smells like your lovely perfume.."

He took her hands again, raising them both to his
lips and kissing them, never breaking eye contact.

"Everything here reminds me of you
And there's nothing I wouldn't do
To be in your arms.."

He began to back up towards the stairs. She followed,
with no thought of doing anything else...completely his
at that moment.

When they reached the first riser, he surprised her
again by turning her around and sitting her on the
third step. His hands moved down and lifted the hem
of her skirt, easily relieving her of her footwear.

"I'll hold you...I need you
I'll get down on my knees for you.."

And, to her shock, he did just that. Dropped down to
his knees and leaned forward, urging her back into a
lying position, careful not to press her down hard into
the carpeted edge of the step.

Catching himself on his outstretched arms, he moved
just a fraction closer until their lower bodies came into
contact.

Buffy gasped, raggedly.

Devlin's eyes closed briefly as he savored the contact. When
he opened them again, they seemed to be an even deeper
blue than ever, like dark sapphires with a flame flickering in
their centers.

"I'll love you....I'll please you
I'll tell you that I'll never leave you.."

Judging by the amount of difficulty she was having herself,
she didn't know how he was managing to produce the
lovely sounds coming from his throat.

Lifting her own hands, she placed them on his cheeks,
feeling the fine arch of his bone structure. Her fingertips
danced down, touching briefly at his lips.

"Buffy," he whispered, kissing the soft pads of her
fingers. "I want you. Right now, darling."

He wanted her....and she wanted him. Did anything else
in the world matter at all?

"I'll love you till the end of time..."

Smiling down at her, he suddenly straightened and
scooped her up off the stairs, carrying her the rest
of the way up.

"When you're in my arms...tonight.."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


TBC.....

(This is going to be a long, slow seduction. No
wham-bam, if you get my drift. Let me know
what you think, please)

Part 14




Buffy directed him to her bedroom, thankful that at
least one room in her house was fully put together.

Spike stepped over the threshold and set her on her
feet. Sliding one arm around her waist, he pulled
her body flush against his and lowered his mouth to
capture hers.

Melting like chocolate in hot sunshine, Buffy offered
no resistance. She participated fully in the experience,
slipping her arms around his back and hugging him
fiercely close.

When she finally had to break away to breathe,
she tried to think of something to say to fill the silence.
Something terribly sophisticated and seductive.

"I...I should brush my teeth," was what came out of
her mouth. **Oh, for....**

She made a face at the inane comment she'd just
uttered.

He didn't seem to mind. "If you want to, by all means,"
he said, releasing her. "But don't do it on my account."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Brilliant...just brilliant..**

Buffy glared at herself in the bathroom mirror.

Sophisticated and seductive. Yeah, right. She
was the ANTI-seductive champion of the world at
that moment.

Spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste, she rinsed
her brush and placed it back in it's holder with
absurd care, then filled a cup with water and added
a small amount of mouthwash.

After she spat it into the sink, she ran the water to
clean the basin. She brushed her hair and dried her
face on a towel.

When there was nothing left to do in the bathroom
outside of the obvious...and she wasn't about to do
THAT with him in her bedroom, able to hear every-
thing...she flicked off the bathroom light and opened
the door.

Peering nervously into the dim light of her bedside
lamp, she saw him sitting on the end of her bed. His
jacket was tossed on the back of a padded armchair,
with his scuffed boots on the floor next to it.

As she watched, he reclined back on the bed. Leaning
on one elbow, he raised his free hand and beckoned
her with one finger, displaying the universal sign that
meant "Come on over here."

Ordering her feet to quit being such scaredy-cats, she
approached the bed. When her knees made contact
with the mattress, she started to climb on...only to
be stopped by his voice.

"Will you do something for me?" he asked, his eyes
moving up and down her body.

She would do pretty much anything for him right
then, so she nodded yes.

Moving a little ways back on the bed, he
smiled. "Take your shirt off," he requested, his
voice husky.

Buffy hesitated for a moment, then crossed her
arms over herself and grasped the hem of her
tank top in both hands. She peeled the snug
material away from her skin, then over her head
and off.

She stood before him, clad in her wraparound
skirt, and her strapless bra...a little confection
made of cream lace and satin.

One of her deepest passions was beautiful
lingerie, and she had a vast collection of it
in her bureau. Everything from tiny lace thongs,
to camisoles and tap pants, to snug fitting
teddies, to garter belts and fancy stockings.
In many different colors and fabrics, she was a
one woman Victoria's Secret catalog.

Since it was her only true needless indulgence,
she indulged every chance she got. She only
bought the best, and if the expression on Devlin's
face was anything to judge by, he appreciated
the effort.

"That's very pretty," he said, with that killer smile
on his good looking face. "Is there more?"

Well, yes, there WAS actually.

His eyes were riveted on her as she undid the hook
of her skirt, unwrapping her wraparound and letting
it fall to the floor.

Devlin drew in a harsh breath at the sight she pre-
sented him.

The matching panties to her bra clung to her hips,
secured only by tiny, flimsy satin ribbons. Her
stockings were thigh-highs, held up by a decorative
band of elastic lace and nothing else.

"You are, hands down, the sexiest looking thing
I've ever laid eyes on," he swore, his gaze burning
with a new heat.

Buffy blushed at the compliment. It couldn't possibly
be true, since he no doubt had contact with beautiful
women every hour on the hour, but it was pretty nice
to hear, just the same.

It was as though he could read her mind. "You think
I'm just saying that, don't you," he asked.

She did...but she couldn't very well admit it to him.

Playing it safe, she just shrugged.

"I'm gonna prove it to you." He rose to his knees and
walked on them to the foot of the bed. Placing his
hands on her waist, he bent his head and nuzzled the
soft flesh of her abdomen.

Buffy's own knees wobbled. The feel of his lips pressing
slow, moist kisses on her skin, was just...magical.

Seemingly on their own, she watched her fingers
thread into his silky blond hair. She stifled an
urge to pinch herself and make sure she wasn't
in the middle of an erotic dream...AGAIN...and played
with the unruly curls.

He startled her by straightening up suddenly. Looking
directly into her eyes, he reached behind her and
searched for the hooks that held her bra.

Unable to locate them, he frowned. "Um..I can't..."

Buffy took his hands and brought them back around
her front, taking them to the place hidden beneath
a small satin rosebud in the middle of the garment.

A slow, hot smile began to tug at the corners of his
lips. "Handy," he murmured, twisting the clasp
open.

"It's hard to believe...being who you are and all...that
you've never seen a front closing bra before," she
said.

He just laughed a little. "I've had a very sheltered
life," he teased.

Letting the bra fall on the floor behind her, he placed
his hands over the lush curves of her bare breasts,
squeezing them gently.

"Oh!" Buffy gasped as he fondled her. Unaware of
it, she leaned forward, pushing her flesh more firmly
into the warm palms of his hands.

He explored every inch of her, massaging the soft
mounds, sweeping his thumbs back and forth on
her nipples.

"Such a lovely shade of pink," he mused, tugging
gently on the the tight peaks.

Buffy was rapidly scaling a height she'd never
reached before. He started at the base of her
breasts and then squeezed them all the way
up to her engorged nipples. It was a sensuous
caress, almost a milking motion.

She could feel her body responding with pleasure,
expelling moisture into her underwear as her
sex contracted with every pull of his hands.

He moved harder and faster, making her whimper
in the most amazing torture he could devise.

Before she knew what was about to happen, she
felt an orgasmic rush shooting through her loins.

Buffy couldn't believe what had just happened,
and it took her a moment to process it.

Devlin seemed to know without any sort of in-
depth analysis. "You're so responsive," he murmured
in amazement. "God....you came...just from me
caressing your breasts."

She couldn't summon up the energy to be em-
barrassed by her lack of control. "Uh-huh," was
all she could say.

He grinned a delighted grin. "I can't wait to see what
you do when I lick and suck them."

Just HEARING that sentence nearly brought on an
immediate encore.

"Um...I need to sit down." **Before I FALL down**
she wanted to add, but didn't.

"All right, love," he said, pulling her forward until
she was on the bed and kneeling in front of him. "But
let me taste first."

Cupping her breasts from beneath, he lifted them in
his palms and lowered his head.

His tongue darted out, playfully flicking each pink
bud.

Buffy looked down to watch as he moved back
and forth from one breast to the other, giving each
one his devoted attention.

It was an erotic sight, and it felt better than just
about anything she'd felt before, but it was getting
to the point where she needed something more.
Something like.....

He pushed her breasts together, looking up at her
as he lapped them with his tongue. "Do you want
me to suck them?" he asked, his face buried in her
cleavage.

Oh, yes, that was it.

His teeth nipped at her, then he opened his mouth
and took her right breast in. Sucking hard, he nursed
at her aching flesh.

With soft moans of pleasure erupting from him, he
swirled his tongue around the nipple as he kept
sucking. When he had her the way he wanted her,
he moved, dragging his tongue wetly to her other
breast and taking it deeply into his mouth.

Holding it there, he sucked as his hands left her
breasts and moved down her sides to her hips. With-
out releasing her breast, he found and tugged the
little satin ribbons that held up her panties.

He pulled them from between her thighs, then
dropped them and replaced them with his hand.

Indicating that he wanted her to widen her knees,
he wedged his hand in and cupped her firmly,
giving her a gentle squeeze.

His mouth released her nipple with a wet suck
as he fumbled with the front of his jeans.
Buffy heard the snap pop open and the zipper
slide down.

Then he straightened up and took her hand,
guiding it into the opening of his trousers.

"Touch me," he whispered.

She wrapped her fingers around the hard velvet
length of him, taking it out of his pants. She
couldn't help staring for a moment, and she
blushed when he caught her doing it.

"Well?" he asked, his eyes dancing with light.

Well. Well, indeed. His thick, straining erection
was as beautiful as the rest of him. It throbbed
in her hand and moistened her fingers with a
clear fluid that seeped from the head.

Instinct was the only explanation for it when her
hand began to slide up and down.

Spike whipped his t-shirt off while his hips moved
back and forth, his shaft gliding through her wet
fingers.

It only lasted a few moments before he had to pull
out of her grasp.

"Oh, Christ," he moaned, in a delirium of both
agony and it's counterpart. "If...you have to stop or
I'm gonna come."

When he managed to calm himself back down a
bit, he met her eyes and smiled, taking hold of
her shoulders.

"Come here and lie down," he said turning her in
his arms and easing her down on the bed. "And
I'll take you to the stars and back."


TBC.....

Feedback is appreciated.

Part 15



His promise sent a shiver of anticipation racing
up and down her spine, and she had no doubt
that he could keep it.

Hovering over her on his hands and knees, Devlin
dipped his head and kissed her. His tongue
coaxed her lips apart and plunged between them,
feeling it's way around the inside of her mouth.

Buffy's head immediately began to swim
dizzily around the room. Good lord, this man
knew how to kiss!

With his tongue thrusting deeply, it was long
and slow, and very wet. He pulled back just
enough for their lips to separate, but their
tongues continued to play outside of their
mouths, flicking at each other.

Shifting his weight onto one hand, he brought
the other up and cupped her breast, his thumb
rubbing the sensitive nipple. When he pinched
it gently between thumb and forefinger, Buffy
nearly lost contact with the bed.

Finally taking his mouth from hers, he smiled.

"I think you liked that."

"I..think so, too!"

"Shall I do it again?"

"Yes, please."

He chuckled. "So polite."

His fingers continued their tender torture, making
Buffy writhe and pant beneath him.

Devlin lowered his head. "Buffy?" he breathed
warmly in her ear. "Touch me, baby. I want your
hands on me."

She forced her eyes to open, and stared dreamily
up into his beautiful face. Placing her hands on
his waist, she flattened them and ran them around
and up the smooth skin of his back.

When she dug her nails in gently, dragging them
down his spine, he hissed in through his teeth and
arched his back. "God...do it again," he begged.

Buffy did...luxuriating in the feminine power over him
that he was giving her so willingly.

Deciding on a change of venue, she slipped her
hands back around and explored the firm muscle
of his chest. Her fingers skimmed lightly over the
flat copper nipples, making them tighten.

After letting her play for a moment, he dropped
a light kiss on her lips. "Don't go away," he
whispered, lifting himself off her and standing
in order to get rid of his trousers.

Moonlight streamed in through the curtains, painting
his body in a silver wash of light. He was lean
and well built, with a firm layer of muscle over his
abdomen. His biceps were nicely defined, not over-
blown like so many mens were. There wasn't an
ounce of fat anywhere on him, which seemed odd
considering the sort of diet he existed on.

He was, in a word, beautiful.

Beautifully made, and beautifully hard. His erection
extended straight out from his body, and there was
a pearly drop of semen at the very tip.

Spike kicked his jeans off, then looked at her. She
smiled and held out her arms.

Without a moment of hesitation, he fell into them.

He kissed her, then pulled back to look into her
eyes. "I'm falling, Miss Buffy," he said softly. "Will
you fall, too? Will you, baby?"

How could she not?

"Yes," she nodded. "I will. I....I have."

Devlin's eyes blazed with new heat. "Oh...me,
too," he told her. "Baby...me, too."

"Really?" she asked in a tiny voice.

"Really." He kissed her again, then nuzzled the
side of her neck. "Buffy...sweetheart," he whispered,
"I'm gonna make long....slow....sweet love to you. I'm
gonna touch you...and taste you...and make every
part of your body quiver. And when I'm inside you...oh,
I'll be in heaven, darling."

Buffy was pretty certain she'd be right there with
him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


He moved down her body at a leisurely pace, not
about to be rushed through this experience..no
matter how much her breathy sighs of pleasure
urged him on.

His tongue darted out, lightly touching here, then
caressing there, leaving a moist trail in it's wake.

Over her breasts, lingering on the tips, swirling
around them until they were diamond hard.

Down the middle of her chest, then over to taste
both under curves of her breasts. He drew a line
down over her abdomen, then flicked his tongue
in her navel, chuckling softly when she twitched
and uttered something that sounded like "yeesh!"

After rubbing his cheek against the soft swell of
her belly, he continued down. The light brown curls
guarding her sex were neatly trimmed, and he
nuzzled her there, his nose taking in the scent of
her excitement.

Slipping down a little further on the bed, he gently
pushed her legs further apart.

She tensed suddenly, and he looked up at her.

"What, baby?" he asked.

She seemed unable to articulate whatever was
crossing her mind, so he took an educated guess.

"No one's ever done this for you, have they?"

Buffy blushed and shook her head.

It was all he could do to keep from shouting out
loud in triumph. Just knowing that he would be
the man to teach her about this aspect of love-
making exhilarated him.

"Just relax, baby," he coaxed her, massaging her
inner thigh with one hand. "Just let it happen."

When she began to soften under his touch, her
thighs parted invitingly.

Before Buffy knew what was happening, his
head dipped and she felt the wet stroke of his
tongue.

He licked her hard, then soft. Fast, then slow.

Stars were bursting behind her tightly closed
eyes. Going super-nova. Exploding into particles
and fragments of particles. Making her shudder
and twist in his gentle hands.

When she finally had the presence of mind to
open her eyes, she looked down and saw that
he was watching her face, studying her response.

It must have pleased him, because he pulled
away for a moment and gave her one of his devilish
grins.

"This is the sweet spot," he said, then lowered
his head again and began to suck at her clit.

Buffy inhaled sharply, her hands grabbing fistfuls
of bedding. She had never in her life imagined that
anything could be this good.

His tongue working over her was the most erotic
sensation she'd ever known. The moisture he was
drawing out of her seemingly had no end, and he
lapped it up with hungry groans.

Still maintaining eye contact, he slowly slipped
his tongue into her...then out....then back in again.

She was coming apart at the seams, her entire
body straining beneath the lash of his tongue.

Blindly, she groped around and sank her fingers
into his hair, forcing him down harder on her
needy flesh.

His tongue being otherwise occupied, he spoke
to her with his eyes.

** Do you like that, baby? Does it feel good? You
taste so sweet...so ripe and juicy...should I go
harder? Faster? Deeper? Anything for you, baby.
Absolutely anything. You want more? So do I.
Want to make you wet...make you come. Do it.
Come on, baby...let it happen. It's gonna taste
so sweet, and I want every drop. I can feel how
close you are. That's my girl. Now....scream for
me...**

Unable to hold out, Buffy gave him what he wanted.

She raised her hips and stiffened all over, coming
in a burning wave of pure liquid heat, screaming
her pleasure to the stars he had promised to show
her.


TBC....
Feedback is welcome!

Part 16


In the aftermath of ecstasy, the room was
blissfully quiet.

Devlin lay with his arms wrapped around Buffy's waist,
and his head pillowed on her tummy. He smiled
when he felt her fingers playing in his hair.

"You okay, kitten?"

"Mm-hmm," Buffy sighed. "Never...ever...better."

"Never ever?"

She giggled. "Ever."

He raised his head and caught her sweet smile. Suddenly
inspired, he leaped to his feet on the bed, grinning like
a fool. "I feel fantastic!" he said loudly, throwing his arms
out dramatically.

Although a certain portion of his anatomy was in
serious need of attention, Buffy focused on his face,
greatly amused at his demeanor. She almost expected
him to start pounding on his chest.

She was about to tell him to settle down when he
dropped to his knees and pounced on her.

"You," he said happily, "are the best thing that's ever
happened to me. I'm gonna write music for you...and
songs about you...and make love to you every chance
I get."

By reply, she slipped one hand behind his neck and
pulled him down close. "So...what's stopping you?"
she asked, her breath warm on his lips.

Spike looked at her, chagrined. "Oh, baby....I'm
not doing right by you, am I?" He dropped a kiss on
her lips. "Forgive me?"

Buffy shrugged. "Only if you do right by me...right
now."

Giving her the smile that made her toes curl, he
arranged himself next to her, then took her hand.
Bringing it to his lips, he pressed a gentle kiss in
her palm, touching it briefly with his tongue.

Without a word, he guided her hand down between
them and placed her fingers around the steely hardness
of his shaft.

Instinctively, Buffy tightened her grasp and moved he
hand up and down.

Devlin's breath was ragged as she touched and
teased him. "Oh, baby....that's perfect," he said,
allowing his eyes to close briefly. "You have such
a soft little hand."

His own hand moved between her legs, cupping the
wet mound and squeezing gently.

She was only peripherally aware of the pleasure his
touch was giving her. Most of her attention was pinned
on what she was doing to him, and the reaction it was
getting.

His penis was rock hard, but the skin covering it was
smooth. He felt warm and solid in her hand, and when
she moved her thumb up and over his glans, fluid seeped
from it, wetting her fingers.

She used her thumb to massage the semen back into
the tip of his erection, making him shudder and moan.

"You...you can do it harder, babe," he murmured in
a husky voice. "That's right....a little faster...oh, yeah.
Yeah, that's....that's it....mmm.."

He gasped, and she lifted her face to look at him
at the same moment he looked at her. Their mouths
came together, melding and burning with love, and
lust, and need. Little parts blending to form
a wonderful whole.

Breaking away, Devlin fell over on his back and
pushed his hips forward, thrusting his hard flesh in
and out of her tiny fingers.

Buffy raised up slightly and watched him.

"Spike?" she whispered. "What do you feel...when
I touch you?"

He didn't open his eyes, but he smiled. "Heaven,"
he whispered back. "Paradise...Valhalla...Shangri-
La...all those places...where miracles happen."

She hesitated, trying to work up enough nerve to
ask her next question. "Do you...would you like me
to...to..."

"Don't stop," he begged.

"Oh!" She HAD stopped. Hadn't meant to, but she'd
been concentrating too much on putting her thoughts
into words, and her hand had ceased it's easy, up and
down caress. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "S'all right, love...God, that feels
good...such soft hands..."

This time, she kept her hand in motion. "But I was
just thinking that...if you want me to..."

Devlin opened his eyes and looked at her. "What,
baby?"

Buffy's cheeks turned red, but she fought down the
embarrassment of having to ask a man if he'd enjoy
feeling her mouth where her hand was.

"What you did to me...before?" she ventured. "I...I
want to...I mean, if YOU want me to...I...I could...oh,
dear," she finished fretfully, certain that she was
making a huge muddle of the whole thing.

But he came to her rescue. "Buffy...I would love
that," he assured her. "Please...do anything you
want to do to me. I'm your's, baby."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now, a whole NEW tide of crimson swept into her
cheeks. Although her offer had been sincere and
heartfelt, she had neglected to mention one small
detail.

Taking a deep breath, she looked at him appealingly. "I
think it's only fair to tell you, that I...I've..."

She was stammering like a high school girl con-
fronting the captain of the football team, and she
hated it.

When she chanced a quick peek at his face, she
found him smiling tenderly.

He knew. Somehow...he knew.

"You've never done THIS before, either." It wasn't
a question.

Buffy turned even redder. "Uh-uh."

His grin widened, as he reached down and wrapped
his fingers around hers, keeping up the slow stroking
motion.

"It's really not all that difficult, love," he told her. "Are
you sure you want to?"

So sweet, he was. Giving her a chance to back out.

She was confident that she wouldn't be getting
a second one.

"I'm sure," she said firmly, not allowing herself to stop
and think.

Sudden fire kindled in his eyes at her words. "Go on
down, then," he directed her. "Get comfortable."

Beating her nervousness back with a broom handle,
Buffy slid down and positioned herself between his
wide spread legs.

Holding him at the base of his erect penis, she
studied the task before her with all the same
careful consideration she'd given final exams in
school.

It was an impressive sight. Bigger than she'd
expected it to be, having only observed it in
furtive little glances when it was beneath the
confinement of tough denim.

Long and straight, with prominent veins feeding it
the rush of blood it needed in order to develop and
maintain erections, it had a blunt, bell shaped
head that was leaking drops of semen.

A loud sigh jolted her out of her silent perusal,
bringing back the tinge of color to her cheeks.

Knowing that if she hesitated further she would
lose her nerve, Buffy leaned down and took him
into her mouth.

His groan told her that she'd done exactly
the right thing. He was hot and tasted salty on
her tongue.

Sliding down as far as she could without gagging
herself...and how embarrassing would THAT be...she
found the right rhythm and applied it diligently.

As his shaft slid wetly in and out of her mouth, she
remembered him watching her while he'd been
giving her this same pleasure.

Wanting to see...wanting to know...she looked
up at his face.

His eyes had become an even deeper shade
of blue. A rich indigo, they were glassy and heavy
lidded.

Meeting her gaze with his, he mouthed, "So good,
baby..."

Buffy was thrilled by this, and a little surprised at the
same time. Apparently, experience wasn't the only
factor in doing this well. Instinct counted for a lot,
too.

Redoubling her efforts, she did everything she could
think of...which, admittedly...wasn't much. She ex-
perimented with pace and pressure, moving her head
like a weaving cobra slithering out of it's basket to
be charmed.

Releasing her hold on the base of his shaft, she
dared to send her hand down further between his
legs, cupping and fondling the heavy sac of his
testicles.

Spike was moaning steadily now, striving for the
delicious release she was bringing him to.

Buffy inched one finger just a little further down,
stroking a place that seemed to be excruciatingly
sensitive.

With a hoarse shout, he buried his hands in her
hair and began thrusting up into her mouth.

"Oh...oh, yeah," he breathed. "Do it again! Do it
again! Yes...suck harder...sweet...

Buffy obliged, and it was the last bit of stimulation
he could take. He had to make her stop.

"Buffy!" He frantically pulled her up and rolled on
top of her. "NOW!!"



TBC.....

What do you think?

Title: Blue Eyed Devil
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks.
Rating: Up to NC-17
Summary: Spike Devlin is the lead singer
for the band 'Blue Eyed Devil'. Buffy
Summers is a local preschool teacher.
They meet. She runs. He chases.



Part Seventeen....


He was just barely inside of her when he stopped.

Looking perplexed for a moment, the realization of what
he was feeling slowly dawned on him. Shocked surprise
followed, and was itself followed by a staggering sense
of responsibility.

"Buffy," he breathed, leaning down to speak softly in
her ear. "This is another first for you....isn't it, love?"

Trying to parcel out whether he was pleased or horrified
at the whole idea, Buffy was too embarrassed to force
out a verbal affirmative, and had to settle for nodding in
jerky little movements.

She had been hoping right up until he penetrated her
that she could get away with it. Hoping that if she seemed
eager enough, and put on a "woman of experience" bluff,
he might not notice until it was too late for him to stop.

Well, THAT plan had just blown up in her face. He had
stopped. Question was....would he continue?

If she'd been able to divine his thoughts at the moment,
she'd find that she had nothing to worry about.

There wasn't a chance in the world that he was going to
stop now. He would wait a moment, give her time to
adjust....and then make her his.

Raising his head, he smiled at her. "Open your beautiful
eyes, baby," he coaxed her sweetly. "Don't be shy."

When she did as he'd asked, he could read every
emotion that she was feeling, could see it all in the
light green pools that were begging silently for his under-
standing.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, brushing her tangled
hair back with one hand. "Don't be frightened. I'm going
to be very gentle, I promise, and try very hard not to hurt
you...any more than I have to."

Buffy returned his smile, tremulously. He wasn't going
to stop...wasn't going to leave her...wasn't put off by
the knowledge that she was a twenty-five year old virgin.

Devlin wasn't put off in the slightest. He was actually
having a difficult time controlling the rush of
possessiveness, coupled with an anticipatory thrill
that came of knowing he was the first to breach the
walls that this beautiful creature had been living
behind.

For her part, Buffy wanted it to be done. She wanted
to know and experience all the things romance
novels promised, wanted to put an end to her
blasted virginity once and for all.

And she wanted Spike Devlin to be the one to do it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you sure about this, sweetheart?"

Some weird impulse of chivalry made him ask the
question. After it was out of his mouth, though, he
wanted to take it back. What if she said no? What
the hell would he do then?

If he was forced to leave the paradise he had found
in her body, he would expire right there in her arms. He
had no doubt that any denial at this moment would
cause his innards to implode, leaving him in such a
state of frustrated agony that he'd be begging to die.

**All right, maybe that's laying it on a bit thick But it won't
be fun, that's for DAMN sure..**

"I'm sure," Buffy whispered, saving him from his gloomy
imaginings. "I've been sure...I think...from the first time
I saw you."

That was ALL he had to hear!

His arousal hadn't abated in the smallest degree during
their little intermission. He was hard and ready, and
she was extremely wet.

"Try and relax, love," he said soothingly. "Start with
your toes and move up."

She followed his advice, going slowly up and up,
a bit at a time. When the calm reached her thighs,
they loosened up and parted even more.

Devlin took immediate advantage. He gradually
slid in a little deeper, then back, then deeper again.

The sensation was nearly excruciating. The warmth
and the tightness was unbelievable, and he
had to concentrate on not thrusting into her with
wild abandon.

When he felt her nails scoring his back, he dipped
his head and took her lips in a long, open-mouthed
kiss.

Need for air became an issue, and Buffy pulled back,
gasping for it. "Please," she whispered on a raggedly
indrawn breath. "Spike....don't be gentle. Be fast."

A groan of assent escaped him, and he adjusted his
position and buried himself completely inside her.

Once he was in, he fought for a modicum of control
and remained quite still, catching her scream in his
mouth.

Buffy's nails dug deeper, almost drawing blood.

The pain was as bad as she'd imagined, but she
forged her way through it just the same.

"I'm sorry," he choked out. "I know I'm hurting you,
honey."

She could hardly deny it. The scream had pretty much
given her away.

"It's all right," she panted in his ear. "It's...getting better."

He pulled back and looked at her. "Really?"

"Yeah," she nodded, putting all the sincerity she
could summon up into her voice and expression. "Just
give me a minute....or two."

Devlin was running on instinct at that point. He'd never
been a girl's first lover before, and the only thing he could
think to do was to try and distract her until the pain abated.

"All right," he said agreeably. "Can I kiss you while we're
waiting?"

Buffy cupped his face in her hands, smiling at the
shy request. "Oh, I wish you would," she replied softly,
drawing him down to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Catching her cheek, he kissed the sweet curve of
her lips, penetrating her mouth with his tongue.

Buffy moaned and tunneled her fingers up through
his silky curls, making his kiss harder and
deeper.

He could feel the extreme tightness begin to
ease up, making her no less snug, but far more
accessible. Gently...slowly...he moved his hips
from side to side.

Devlin moved his hand from her face, trailing
it down the side of her body in a teasingly light
caress. When he reached her outer thigh, he lifted
himself just a small amount, just enough to allow his
hand to slip in between them.

When she felt the touch of his fingers, her eyes
flew open wide and stared up into his.

Their mouths separated, and Buffy arched her
back. "Oh...oh, God," she whimpered, helpless
beneath the assault of pleasure.

His mouth hovered above hers, absorbing her
breathy sighs. "S..soon, love?" he begged, unsure
just how much longer he could hold himself back.

She helped him. Her hands moved down his
back to clutch at the firm muscle of his rump. "Now,"
she breathed hotly.

He began moving, each gentle thrust burying him
deeper into her body as well as her heart.

Although there was a lingering ache between
Buffy's legs, the sharpness of the initial pain
had begun to fade. As it left, she was able to
concentrate on the other sensations her body was
telegraphing to her brain.

Every time he entered her, he rubbed himself in just
the right spot, creating the most delicious friction
exactly where she needed it.

Her sex felt fluid and hot, almost heavy with the
need to...the need for...

Unknowingly, she raised her legs and wrapped
them around his hips as he increased his rhythm.

He kissed her once more, quick and hard.

"Baby...oh, sweetheart," he murmured. "Are you all
right? Is it good?"

He leaned on one arm and moved his free hand
around to hold her soft bottom, fondling it and
squeezing it firmly as he lifted her into his down-
strokes.

It was so good now that she didn't know how to
articulate it. The pain had turned to pleasure and
the pleasure was all encompassing. How had she
lived without this?

He didn't seem to expect an answer, and he kept
moving his hips in that slow, rolling wave of
motion.

"Baby...you feel so good," he said, locking her
gaze with his own. "So wet and tight...and so bloody
hot. Never been like this...never... you're the one...."

Buffy couldn't hold back a soft cry of his name.

Devlin's eyes burned with new heat at the sound.

"You're the one, Buffy," he said again, pumping a little
faster. "You're all I want...all....I...want..."

Obeying her instincts one more time, she unwrapped
her legs from around him and planted her feet flat
on the mattress, then lifted her hips up into him,
meeting each increasingly strong and demanding
thrust.

He went wild, growling deep in his throat, pumping
faster and harder. Burying his face against the side
of her neck, he felt the beginning of her climax.

"Do it, baby...come for me...I want to feel it...make
it tighter, love...that's perfect...yes...so sweet...my
beauty...my star...unh...unh...now, love....now....do
it now....now....Buffy....AHHH...NOWWWW!"

Her moisture slickened him as he drenched her womb
with a flood of semen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The act of love...performed with love.

It was better than anything he'd ever dreamed of.




TBC......
(I'll bet you thought they'd NEVER get here,
didn't you?)

Blue Eyed Devil/ part 18






"I just now thought of something."

Buffy opened her eyes and found him lying
beside her, his head propped on his hand.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Birth control. Are you angry?"

How could she be angry? She hadn't thought of it
either. Until now...

"I'm sorry," he said.

Buffy met his gaze straight on. "You don't really look
all that sorry," she informed him.

Spike couldn't deny it, and no one was more surprised
by that fact than he was himself. He'd had his share
of brief relationships and even a few one night stands,
but he was always careful to provide protection.

With Buffy, though...it had been the absolute furthest
thing from his mind. All he'd been able to think about
was her, about how beautiful and sweet she was, and
how badly he'd wanted her. He wouldn't have been able
to stop and fumble around with a condom if his life had
depended on it.

He wanted a family someday, had always planned on
having one...when he met the right woman.

The right woman....

Was she here with him now? Lying beside him, looking
at him with heavenly green eyes, in a room scented with
the fragrance of perfume and sex.

Yes. This had to be her. He wouldn't be nearly as
calm and relaxed discussing the possible consequences
of unprotected intercourse with any other woman.

Buffy would be a spectacular mother. All you had to
do was watch her for five minutes with her little students
to know that. Tenderness and caring for them emanated
from her in huge amounts.

An incredible feeling of good fortune washed over him. How
lucky could one guy get?

He was in bed with a woman that he was falling in
love with by leaps and bounds. She was beautiful and
sexy, and sweetly innocent at the same time. A face
that was cameo perfect...and a body that could stop
traffic. With a wealth of golden brown hair for his
fingers to get lost in, and the softest skin he'd ever
touched...she was perfect.

Add on the fact that she made him laugh just
by being herself, and that she loved kids, and
he was brought all the way back to his original
question; How lucky could one guy get?

He placed his hand lightly on her stomach, rubbing
it gently. What if there was already a child growing
inside of her? She was young and healthy, and no
doubt fertile. There was no reason why a baby
couldn't have been conceived.

He'd certainly done HIS part, he decided,
grinning arrogantly. He couldn't ever remember
being so turned on and coming so hard....and so
much. Yes, she was probably....

"You don't need to worry," she said, placing
her hand over his. "It's not the right time of the month
for that to happen."

Oh.

Oh, well....it was most likely for the best. That
wasn't a good way to hold on to a woman. A
baby should be planned for, by a husband and
wife. He had very strong opinions on that subject,
disliking the casual relationships that he saw so
much of in his profession. There were a lot of
people in his immediate circle of friends and
acquaintances that had more than one child without
ever bothering to get married.

It wasn't going to be that way for him. He wanted
the entire package...the bride, the house with the
picket fence, the dog and cat....and the little ones.

Someday.

**********************************************

Buffy turned on her side, wincing slightly from
the ache between her legs. Her cheeks turned
pink at the sticky feel of her thighs peeling
apart.

This losing of one's virginity was not all moonlight
and roses, no matter what the romance novels
touted. Although painful at first, the sex itself had
become wonderful, and the pleasure she'd felt
was everything she'd dreamed it would be.

The aftermath, though, was a different story. The
lingering soreness, and the messy feel of their
mingled fluids wasn't heaven on earth.

But looking into the dark blue eyes of the man
who'd taught her the meaning of sexual desire, she
couldn't have cared less about the discomfort.

And she was eager to learn more.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked him.

He hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "Just
about you, luv. Did I hurt you?"

Buffy could hardly lie about it. "It hurt at first, but
you made it better." She placed one hand on his
cheek, smiling when he turned his head and kissed
her palm. "I guess I should have told you."

He raised one eyebrow. "Why didn't you?" When she
couldn't seem to find an answer, he provided one. "Did
you think that I wouldn't want you if I knew ahead of
time that you were a virgin?"

Buffy smiled ruefully. It seemed kind of silly to hear
it out loud.

Devlin chuckled. "I'll tell you the truth," he said. "I've
wanted you from the second I laid eyes on you. The
way you tossed your head and gave me that 'who
the hell do you think YOU are' look. Ignoring me,
then ordering me to get back up on stage and stop
pestering you."

"Not used to women telling you to go away, are
you?" Buffy asked.

"Hell, no," he admitted. "But that's just one of the
reasons I came after you." He wrapped one lock
of her hair around his finger, rubbing it with his thumb.
"When I saw you at the school the next day...I
knew I was right to come looking. You absolutely
knocked me out, ya know? Watching you play with
the kids...then seeing you stomping across the yard
to give me all kinds of hell."

Buffy remembered it, too. She'd never forget.

"I'll tell you a secret," he said, leaning closer. "When
you were telling me off that day...I wanted to grab
hold of you and throw you over my shoulder, carry
you to my car, kicking and screaming. Just disappear
with you....and make love to you for days and days."

She felt her heart rate speed up.

"And someday?" he added. "That's exactly what I'm
gonna do."

The scenario he'd just described sounded mightily
appealing to Buffy.

"Well," she said, returning his smile, "when you do...I
don't think I'll be kicking and screaming."

Moving closer still, he leaned down to kiss her. "Don't
say that, yet," he murmured. "I think I can make you
scream...just a bit."

************************************************

Before their lips came together, the clock radio
clicked on and startled them apart.

".....gonna be a nice one today, with highs in
the lower 80s inland, and the mid 70s at the
beach, but temperatures will drop in the early
part of next...."

Buffy turned and banged on top of the gadget
until it shut up. "Sorry," she said, facing him
again.

Spike peered at the red digital numbers. "It's
Saturday," he said. "Why in the world do you have
that set for 5:30 in the bloody A.M.?"

Pushing her hair back out of her eyes, she made
a face. "I usually go to the gym," she confessed.

He flopped over onto his back. "You've gotta be
kidding me," he said, looking up at her. "You're not
gonna do it today...are you?"

Buffy was about to say no, when a little devil with
a pitchfork prodded her. "I really should. I go three
days a week."

"Can't you go tomorrow?"

"But that would break my routine," she answered.

Devlin took a deep breath, preparing to argue
until he got his way. "Oh, come on. Live danger-
ously."

"You could come with me," Buffy suggested. "I
can bring a guest."

"At THIS hour of the morning?" He shook his head
firmly. "No, thanks."

Buffy shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said, turning
to roll out of bed.

Before she could slip away, he grabbed her arm
and hauled her back down. "Baby, you don't need
to go the gym," he informed her, a wicked light
dancing in his eyes. "I can give you a proper work-
out right here."

She melted under the heat of his gaze. "Can you?"

"Oh, yeah," he assured her, moving her beneath
him. "I'll give you all the...exercise...you can handle,
little girl."

Buffy pretended to consider the offer. "Well...all right.
But I have to take a shower first."

He just grinned at her. "Lead the way."

TBC...

Title: Blue Eyed Devil
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me
Feedback: Yes, please.
Rating: Up to NC-17
Summary: AU. Spike Devlin is the
lead singer for the band 'Blue Eyed
Devil'. Buffy Summers is the local
preschool teacher he's pursuing.



Part nineteen....


"Buffy...oh, Christ, baby...you're so tight...so
hot...sweet...yes...there...there..."

Morning sunlight streamed into the kitchen, with
tiny dust motes dancing in it.

Spike's hands held her securely around her waist,
keeping her from sliding backwards on the Formica
counter as he pounded into her. She held on by
wrapping her fingers around the hard muscle of his
biceps.

Almost delirious with pleasure, Buffy had to release
her hold on him and place her hands on the counter,
slightly behind her. With her legs encircling his
waist, she could lift herself to meet every deep
thrust.

When her head tipped back and exposed her creamy
throat, he lunged forward and licked it from the
hollow at it's base, all the way up to the point of
her chin. Seeking the moist sweetness of her
lips, he kissed her hard, plunging his tongue into
her mouth.

Wanting to get closer...needing to go deeper, he
curved his right arm around her waist and pulled
her closer to the edge of the counter. Then, urging
her to lie down all the way, he slipped his hands
beneath her thighs, lifting her bottom until it lost
contact with any hope of support except him.

His eyes were shut tight with concentration as
he pumped harder and faster. Sex had never
been this good before. With Buffy, he felt like he
was sliding into warm cream, and lying against
soft pillows. Her body was so responsive to his
lightest touch that it excited him past the point
of coherent thought. Whenever he put his hands on
her, the rest of the world fell away into a void he
had no interest in searching for. Everything he
wanted was right here...here in this sun-warmed
little kitchen.

He drove himself into her, harder and deeper,
listening to the soft moans and half whispered
words coming from her throat. He opened his eyes
and found her staring up at him in amazed wonder.

It was a breathtaking sight. Her skin was damp and
flushed a light shade of pink, and her green eyes
were glassy. The heavy wealth of her honey brown
hair was spread beneath her like a halo.

She was absolutely the most beautiful thing he'd
ever seen.

"I'm...I'm not hurting you, am I?" he asked.

Buffy shook her head, no.

It wasn't enough. "Tell me," he insisted. "Tell me
how it feels for you."

She didn't really know what to say, being unskilled in the
art of "pillow talk", and too shy to use the descriptive
words he'd been saying to her.

He tried to help her. "Does it feel good, babe? Do
you like what I'm doing to you?"

Now, there was a question she could answer!

"Yes," she nodded. "I love...it. I do....."

Sliding his hands beneath her back, he lifted her
up. "Hang on, love," he directed, moving backwards
and sitting down on one of the kitchen chairs.

Amazed that he'd been able to perform this maneuver
without breaking their connection, Buffy quickly discovered
that this new position had definite advantages. With her
sitting on his lap and facing him, she could balance her
feet on the rungs of the chair and lift herself up and down.

Tangling his fingers in her hair, he buried his face
against her soft throat, kissing and licking it as she
bounced on his lap.

His mouth found hers, and they kissed with passionate
intensity. His tongue delved deeply into her mouth, tasting
the softness of her inner cheeks and dancing on the edges
of her small, white teeth.

Bodies pressed close, they rocked together, groaning
and panting with every deep, gliding thrust.

Buffy was close...so close to the spectacular finish he'd
been priming her for. Her fingertips moved over the smooth
flesh of his shoulders and up his neck, finally meeting around
his face. He kissed and nipped at the soft pads, sucking each
finger and swirling his tongue around it.

His hands suddenly moved down, briefly squeezing her
breasts before they found her waist. Lifting her just a little,
he began to slam his hips up harder and faster.

Her breathing became ragged and sharp, and she
clutched at his shoulders again, hanging on.

Their eyes met, and stayed locked on each other.

Buffy came first, her hips grinding down hard on him
as her sex milked him in violent spasms, demanding
every drop he had to give her. She cried out his name,
and fisted her hands in his hair almost to the point of
pain.

Devlin's control snapped. Taking a tighter hold on her,
he began pumping even harder, gliding wetly in and
out of her. Shouting hoarsely, he came, spurting
what felt like a gallon of semen up inside of her.

When it was over, their breathing began to slow
and the sweat began to dry upon them.

Nuzzling the side of her face, he laughed a little.

"Didn't we come down here for breakfast?"

Buffy smiled. "What was that we just had?"

"Call it an appetizer," he replied, kissing her cheek
with a loud smack. "I'm starved. Want to go out to
eat?"

She sat back and shook her head. "No. I want to
dazzle you with my skill in the kitchen."

Grinning at her lecherously, he said, "Consider me
dazzled, gorgeous. Or...was that not the skill you
were referring to?"

"Very funny," she said. Giving him a slight shove,
she looked around the floor. "Where did you throw
my bathrobe?"

"Who knows?" he muttered, rubbing his chest against
her bare breasts. "Who cares? Hey...come back here."

"Oh, no you don't." She dodged away from his reach-
ing hand and scrambled off his lap. Their bodies separated
with a moist, sucking sound, and they both made a face.

"Sorry about that," he said, sounding not the least bit
sorry at all. "Bit messy, huh?"

Buffy snagged her robe and shoved her arms into it,
feeling suddenly embarrassed about being naked in the
kitchen. She excused herself to the bathroom, promising
to fix him breakfast when she returned.

Halfway up the stairs, she heard him.

"Drop dead gorgeous, sweet and funny, loves kids,
and she cooks, too!" he yelled. "Now I KNOW I'm
falling, Miss Buffy!"

She almost walked into the bathroom without replying,
then gathered up all her courage and leaned over the
landing. "Me, too!" she yelled back, diving into the bathroom
and locking the door when she heard him mutter some-
thing under his breath and come running up the stairs.


****************************************************


She took great pains with her breakfast preparations,
grateful that she actually had the food she wanted on
hand.

After starting the coffee maker, she pulled a large
cast iron skillet out of a lower cupboard. Dropping
in a spoonful of cooking oil, she sliced potatos and
onions into the pan, frying them until the potatos were a
golden brown, and the onions translucent.. When they
were finished, she put the skillet in the oven to keep warm,
and cracked a half a dozen eggs into her large blue mixing bowl.
Adding a little milk, she whisked the egg mixture around until
it was frothy, then melted butter in another skillet and
poured the eggs in.

Devlin sat and watched every move she made, asking
questions and pestering her until she put him in charge
of making toast to give him something to do with his
wandering hands.

She set the table with her grandmother's china and
crystal, placing a chilled carafe of orange juice in the
middle. When the eggs began to set, she scrambled
them to a fluffy turn and spooned them onto a serving
plate.

Spike buttered toast, and searched through the fridge
for jam. He found three different kinds, and placed all
of them on the table.

Buffy removed the skillet from the oven and placed it
on a trivet next to the juice container. Placing her crystal
salt and pepper shakers within easy reach, she poured
two mugs of coffee and grabbed her sugar bowl.

Before he sat down, Spike looked out the window and
immediately headed for the door. Barefoot, wearing
only his jeans, he snapped off a yellow rose from a
bush in her next door neighbor's yard, then ran back
in the house and presented it to her.

Well, she had to kiss him for it, and she did...quite
thoroughly. Placing the rose in a glass of water, she
announced that breakfast was served.

Spike pulled out a chair with a continental flourish.
Taking her hand, he seated her gracefully, then
kissed her fingers before he sat down next to her.

They talked of inconsequential things while they
ate. He told her about where he'd grown up...some-
where in the southern part of England, and she
in turn revealed a few things about her own childhood.

He ate every scrap of food on his plate, praising it
lavishly, and telling her that, while her skills in the
kitchen were definitely not limited to the culinary, he
certainly appreciated them at the moment.

Snitching the last piece of toast off her plate, he
slathered it with a thick layer of boysenberry jam.
Buffy poured more coffee into his mug, smiling when
he dumped three large spoons of sugar into it.

She sipped her own lightly sweetened coffee, and
considered the fact that for someone with his
sugar laden eating habits, there wasn't an ounce of
superfluous flesh anywhere on him. He was trim and
lean, and very well built, and she had to force herself
not to stare rudely at his bare chest.

It was really...really...difficult to do.


***************************************************


When the mantle clock in her living room chimed
three, they were stretched out on her sofa
kissing...making out was what she would have
called it in high school...and they were both
having a difficult time controlling themselves.

"Damn it," he swore softly, looking at the little
clock as though he hated it. "I have to go. We're
having a rehearsal today...some new material we're
trying out on the tour."

Although he ordered himself to stand up and
move away from her, the sight of her kiss-reddened
lips drew him back for more.

A few moments later, Buffy pulled away. "I thought
you had to go," she reminded him, holding him off
with one hand on his chest.

"I do," he said, pushing her hand away and capturing
lips again. "I'm going now," he added, trailing wet kisses
up the side of her cheek.

Her eyes drifting shut with pleasure, she arched her
throat, murmuring softly when he began nuzzling and
kissing it.

"Temptress," he whispered in her ear, sucking gently
on her lobe.

Shaking her head a little to clear it, she nudged him
away. "Be good."

"I don't want to be good," he protested, wriggling his
hips against hers. "I want to be bad," he added, smiling
that killer smile of his. "I want to be bad with you...I want
to be bad all over you." Slipping one hand up, he cupped
her breast. "Don't you want to be bad with me, baby?"

She did. She really did. But....

Grabbing his hand, she pushed it away hard enough to
shove him right off the couch.

"Hey!" he yelped, landing on his arse.

Before he could climb back up, she lurched to her
feet. "You need to go," she told him, backing
away.

Devlin rose to his knees and followed her. "Come
here," he demanded, reaching for her.

She skipped back just in time. "No. Now, you get
the rest of your clothes on, and I'll...don't...no, Spike,
you can't...we can't..."

He'd jumped to his feet and was stalking her around
the sofa. "Miss Buffy," he sing-songed. "You know
I'll catch you, darling. Give in gracefully."

Buffy tightened the sash of her robe. "You have a
rehearsal," she pointed out, using her best "teacher"
voice. "Now, you go and get ready for it."

He stopped, surprising her a little. "Come with me."

"Who, me?"

"Yeah, come on. It'll be fun," he coaxed her, giving
her that boyish grin she adored.

She hesitated. "The others won't mind?"

"Nah. I told you, love...it's my band. Come on."

She was wavering. "Well...."

Devlin sweetened the deal. "I'll sing you a song," he
promised, tempting her shamelessly with his blue
topaz eyes and charming smile. "A love song."

That clinched it. She was in!





TBC.....

Feedback is welcome!

Title: Blue Eyed Devil
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Makes me very happy!
Summary: AU. Spike Devlin is the
lead singer for the band 'Blue Eyed
Devil'. Buffy Summers is the local
preschool teacher he's pursuing.
Rating: Up to NC-17





Part twenty.....


Spike kept a firm grip on Buffy's hand as he led
her through the side entry door of Union Jack's.

The main room was empty, with all the chairs upended
on top of the tables, but she could hear activity coming
from the kitchen area. People talking and laughing, with
an occasional four letter word thrown in for good
measure.

"Well, look who's here!" A man Buffy recognized as
the drummer was sitting on the edge of the stage,
kicking his feet against it and making a hollow thumping
sound. "It's our fearless leader."

The bass player looked up from where he was sitting,
tuning his instrument. "Hey, Spike," he said mildly, ac-
customed to his band mate's chronic lateness for rehearsals.

Spike leaned over and whispered, "Come on and meet
them. They won't bite."

Trying not to feel completely intimidated, she pasted on
a bright smile as he dragged her through the club.

"Everybody," he announced, stopping in front of the
stage. "This is Buffy Summers. Buffy, this is our bass
player, Oz."

Oz, a small and slightly built man of around twenty-five
tipped a finger to his forehead in greeting, then continued
fiddling with his bass.

"The one with the big mouth is Xander Harris, our
drummer," Spike informed her.

"YOU'RE late and I'M taking the abuse!" Xander said
dramatically. "Typical. Hi, Buffy."

"Hi," Buffy replied. Xander had an open, friendly face,
and a head of dark brown hair that curled at the ends.
His Hershey bar eyes were expressive and curious.
He reminded Buffy of one of her students, and she liked him
immediately.

"And rounding out the bunch is our keyboard..."
Spike went on...glancing around. "Okay, where's our
keyboard player?"

"In the can," Xander informed him, gesturing with one
drum stick. "He couldn't hold it."

"Uh-huh." Spike smiled at Buffy. "You can meet him
later. His name is Anderton Leopold La Pierre, which
he hates, so he goes by Andy."

"You can say THAT again," Xander added. "He hates
it so much that the only time he uses it is when he
signs his contracts."

The door to the men's room swung open, and a man
emerged. A bit taller than Devlin, and bone thin, he
had his head tilted back and was holding a wadded
up handful of toilet paper to his nose.

"These nose bleeds are driving me fucking nuts," he
said, his voice sounding like he'd been sucking helium
from a balloon. "Oh, hi," he added, catching sight of
Buffy. "Do I know you?"

"This is Andy," Devlin explained. "Andy...this is Buffy
Summers. She's...."

"Yeah, I remember," Andy said. "You were here the
other night. The teacher, right?"

She nodded. "Nice to meet you."

"You scampered off and he was a fucking bear for
the rest of the night," he said, pointing at Devlin. "Never
seen him so fucking pissed off."

Buffy wasn't sure how to respond to this. "I'm sorry,"
she ventured.

Spike flinched slightly. "As you can probably tell, Andy
here can't really express himself without using the word
"fuck" as often as possible."

"Fuck you," Andy replied, goodnaturedly. "I can if
I want to. And what I said was true. You were a fucking
bastard for the rest of the night. Wouldn't even speak
to the nice young ladies that chucked you their under-
garments."

"They did not!" Spike said curtly, then turned to look
at Buffy. "They did not!" he said again, firmly.

Andy shrugged and tossed his used tissue into a nearby
trash can. "Equipment truck showed up a bit ago," he
informed Spike. "Got those new amps you wanted."

"What about my..."

"Yeah, that too. Waiting out back for you, all nice and
shined up." Sitting down in front of his keyboard, Andy
ran his fingers over it. "So...we fucking rehearsing today
or not?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Buffy sat at a table, sipping a glass of coke as she
listened to Blue Eyed Devil work a little magic.

They sounded wonderful, never hitting a wrong note or
missing a chord, and she had to smile as she watched
how well they worked together.

Spike was totally showing off for her, giving her splendid
demonstrations of his skill with a guitar. She was
amazed at the way he could turn the simplest movement
into something blatantly sexual. It had something to do
with the way he moved his hips in little thrusting motions,
and the way he tilted his head ever so slightly as he stared
at her through those long, silky lashes.

But what she found most wonderful about his performance
was how completely he was enjoying himself. It
was quite obvious that he loved what he was doing. His
smiles and laughter were too genuine and spontaneous to
come from anything less than total harmony with his place
in the world.

Spike Devlin was one of the fortunate few who had found
his true calling...his passion...and also had the talent to
make it work for him. Up on a stage was where he was
meant to be. Making people happy with his music, excited
by his life force.

But...where did SHE fit in to this equation? HOW could she,
when it was all so alien to her, so different from anything
she'd ever dealt with before?

Would he even want her to? After he was gone, would he ever
think of her, or would she be nothing more than a pleasant
memory to him?

He would be leaving soon...in just a few days...and the
knowledge caused a heavy ache in the pit of her stomach.

What had she gotten herself into?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Wiping his sweaty forehead on a bandanna that he
pushed into the back pocket of his jeans, Spike grinned
at her.

"Besides some of our new songs," he informed her, "we're
gonna cover a few of the classics, some of the older stuff. Now
pay attention, babe. I really want your opinion."

Buffy shook off her gloom. Deciding that, if she only had
a few more days with him, she was going to make every
one of them count. "Dazzle me," she said, returning his
smile.

He turned and said something to the band that she couldn't
hear. They all nodded and began the distinctive opening
drum licks and chords of a familiar song.

Stepping close to the edge of the stage, he looked
straight at her.

"Pretty woman, walking down the street
Pretty woman, the kind I'd like to meet
Pretty woman...I don't believe you, you're not the truth
No one could look as good as you.."

The beat was faster than the original version, fitting
in well with their other work.

"Pretty woman, won't you pardon me
Pretty woman, I couldn't help but see
That you look lovely as can be
Are you lonely...just like me..?"

He let out a soft, sexy growl, making Buffy's heart
jump in her chest when he aimed it her way.

"Pretty woman, stop a while
Pretty woman, talk a while
Pretty woman, give your smile to me.."

Buffy did as he'd requested. He smiled and rolled
his eyes heavenwards, as though praying for mercy.

"Pretty woman, yeah, yeah, yeah
Pretty woman, look my way
Pretty woman, say you'll stay with me.."


As he had the other night, he dropped to his knees
and leaned back, resting his guitar on his upper thighs.

He mesmerized her with his heat and intensity,
as he kept his gaze locked steady with her's.

"Cause I need you
I'll treat you right
Come with me, baby
Be mine tonight..."


Buffy had no objections to that scenario.


"Pretty woman, don't walk on by
Pretty woman, don't make me cry
Pretty woman...don't walk away, hey...
If that's the way it must be..okay

I guess I'll go on home, it's late
There'll be tomorrow night
But wait
What's that I see?
Is she walking back to me?

Yeah, she's walking back to me
Oh..whoa, pretty woman..."


Rising to his feet, Devlin's eyes moved up and down
her possessively. "Didja like that one?"

Buffy nodded. "I've always liked that song."

"Yeah, me too," he said. "It's a real classic piece
of music. It's...well, its...."

"Older than the fucking Dead Sea Scrolls is what
he's trying to say," Andy interjected.

"Andy!" Spike swung around on him.

"What? What'd I say?" The man seemed genuinely
confused and Buffy couldn't hold back her laughter
any longer.

"See!" Andy announced, feeling vindicated. "She
fucking likes me. Don't you, doll?"

Buffy buried her face in her hands and nodded. "I
do," she admitted. "I really do."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Half an hour later, Spike called the practice
session to a halt. Everyone was in a genial enough
mood, but he seemed wired up and wanting to
leave.

Buffy watched as the other band members taunted
him about something he apparently had left to do that
day, giving her obvious side glances while doing everything
short of nudging him in the ribs with their elbows while
stage winking at him.

He just shrugged it all off and jumped down off the
stage. After checking in with her, he begged her to
wait once again while he showered, then promised
to take her somewhere fun that evening.

Buffy sat and made small talk with Xander and Oz as
she waited for Devlin to return. Two more cokes began
to produce an urgent need for the bathroom, and when
she came back out, Andy flagged her down.

"Hey, beautiful" he called from the stage where he
was tinkering with some of the sound equipment. "He's
out back saying hello to the other girl in his life."

He pointed her in the right direction, then went back to
what he was doing, uttering an occasional "fuck this!"
under his breath.

Buffy left the building through the rear exit, and saw
immediately what Andy had been referring to.

The "other girl" in Spike Devlin's life was a big, shiny,
black and chrome plated beast of the two wheeled
variety.

**Oh, no....no, no, no....**

"A motorcycle!" she said shrilly. "You...you actually
drive a motorcycle?"

Spike straightened up from where he'd been kneeling
next to the gleaming machinery, grinning at her and
beckoning her to come closer.

"Come on, teacher lady," he said coaxingly. "Let me
take you for a nice...long...ride."



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


TBC....

Feedback is welome.

Buffy's heart was lodged somewhere in the region
of her throat.

A motorcycle! He wanted her to get on the back of
a motorcycle.

The palms of her hands felt clammy at the very
notion of it. She didn't like motorcycles. They were
too loud, and the people who drove them seemed to
be foolishly reckless.

Her mother, a woman who never stopped reminding her
to be on her guard against all the dangerous men who
lived wild lives, had only recently sent her a new batch of
newspaper clippings from the Los Angeles Times. She'd
practically made Buffy a scrapbook of articles having to
do with old friends and acquaintances; who was married,
who was expecting a new baby, who had just been promoted
in a Fortune 500 company, AND who was (as she put it)
"not with us anymore."

Her mom's last batch of 'Here's Who's Dead!' notices had
included the obituary of a boy Buffy had only known in the
most oblique way...a friend of a friend's cousin-in-law.

Parker Abrams, a nice enough looking guy...although a
little pop-eyed...had smiled up at her from the smudgy
newsprint, a cautionary tale bearer from beyond the grave.

It was a simple story. Motorcycle...rainy day...wet pave-
ment...smash, crash, dead.

Buffy had sighed and filed the clipping away with her mom's
other notices of doom and gloom, on every subject ranging
from "Don't pick up strange men in bars or bus stations" to
"Be sure and change the battery in your carbon monoxide
alarm, and what do you MEAN you don't have a carbon
monoxide alarm? Don't you realize how many people die
every year from carbon monoxide poisoning? Do you WANT
to become a statistic?"

So, now she had a carbon monoxide alarm, courtesy of
her mother. Unfortunately, she kept forgetting to buy a
battery for it.

She was perfectly well aware that her mother's overwhelming
concern was rooted in the love she felt for her. Joyce Summers
suffered terribly from "Empty Nest Syndrome" and no oppor-
tunities for excessive mothering perpetrated upon an adult
offspring were allowed to slip by her radar.

In fact, her mother was so good at the job that Buffy was
surprised the woman's early warning system wasn't ringing
it's little head off, letting her know that there was a...'NEW
MAN'...making himself at home in her daughter's life.

And, not just a man....a rock and roll singer. The creative
and artistic type that her mom had no use for, having been
thoroughly burned by one herself as a younger woman.

Buffy had heard the story of "Simon...the Concert Violinist"
more times than she could count. Her mom...an innocent
19 year old student at UCLA, had met Simon in the school
library one sunny afternoon. Tall and slender, with black hair
and stormy grey eyes, the moody young violinist had swept
Joyce off her feet, romancing her with flowers, poetry, and
music.

Unfortunately, Joyce had been too much in love to become
aware of the other three girls who were enjoying the same
attention from good old Simon. Her friends had tried to warn
her about his roving eyes...not to mention his hands...but
she had just brushed their concerns off as jealousy, because
they certainly had no one as "special" as Simon to lay claim
to.

The wake up and smell the coffee call didn't register with Joyce
until she'd invested seven months of her life into the relation-
ship.

She had impulsively shown up one morning at Simon's
frat house, surprising him with breakfast in bed.

Which of them had been more surprised was debatable.

Caught 'inflagrante delicto', Simon hadn't even tried to talk
his way out of the predicament. He'd simply thrown his hands
in the air and announced that he couldn't abide the "inevitable
yowling" that would occur between Joyce and his new sleeping
buddy.

He had then dressed and swept dramatically from the room,
somehow managing to convince both girls that the whole thing
was their fault for being too possessive and clinging.

The moral of the pitiful tale was, of course, watch out for the
"artistic types" that thought the world revolved around them.

The moral of the "Parker" story was far more basic: "Stay off
of motorcycles! No matter what!"

Buffy had already disregarded one maternal ad-
monishment, and was still standing...so far.

Did she dare tempt fate by flouting another?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"Come on, teacher lady. Let me take you for a nice,
long ride."

Spike tossed aside a rag he'd been using to polish
the gleaming chrome handlebars. He grinned at her
like the most adorable little boy she'd ever seen...and
she'd seen a lot of adorable little boys in her job. Show-
ing her that perfect dentition of his, his blue eyes were
practically twinkling in anticipation.

Buffy swallowed hard...and chickened out.

"I...I forgot something. Inside..." she stammered,
pointing over her shoulder to let him know which 'inside'
she was referring to, and feeling like a perfect idiot.

Devlin just nodded. "Hurry back," he said softly, never
breaking eye contact.

Feeling her defenses begin to crumble, Buffy spun on
one heel and headed back to the bathroom.

She had her hand on the door when she heard the creaky
swing of the men's room door open and stop. Two men
stood talking, and Buffy recognized their voices.

"So...when's "himself" planning on leaving good old
Sunny-D?" Andy ventured cheerfully.

"Thursday morning is what he told me," Oz replied,
the most words Buffy had heard come out of him at
one time.

She held her breath, hiding herself just inside the
ladies room.

"Yeah, but that was before he met the little teacher,"
Andy said, sounding amused. "His fucking mind's been
wandering lately."

Oz said nothing, and Buffy heard the faint sound of a
toilet flush.

"Don't you ever wash your fucking hands?" Andy asked.

"Why?" Apparently, Xander had joined them. "My dick's
clean. It's been in my pants all day."

Buffy clapped one hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles.

"Whatcha ragging on about anyway?" Xander spoke again.

"Nothing much." Oz.

"Little Miss Buffy" Andy corrected. "And how air-head's
been behaving lately."

"Oh, man," Xander nearly moaned. "She is SO hot!"

Buffy grinned. This eavesdropping business was fun.

"Or she COULD be," Xander suddenly tacked on, making
the smile disappear from Buffy's face.

"What the fuck do you mean, "she could be"?" Andy
said.

**Yeah! What the...heck...do you mean?**

"Well, she's cute," Xander explained. "Got a great
figure...from what I can tell. But don't you guys think
she's a little...I dunno...prim and proper?"

The other two were silent for a moment, as though
seriously considering Xander's comment.

"It's just," he went on, "her hair is all pulled back
in that tight braid and she hardly wears any make-
up. She looks a little...dowdy."

Buffy's hand automatically went to the top of
her head, her fingers touching the neat French
Braid she'd made there.

"And her blouse is all buttoned up tight. Skirt
down to her knees. I mean...the girl's got potential,
but she's not using it."

"Doesn't look like Spike is real concerned about
that," Oz pointed out.

"Don't get me wrong," Xander said quickly. "She's
real nice. She's just not his usual...type, if you know
what I'm saying."

"Of course we know what you're fucking saying," Andy
chimed in. "We've been playing together for three
fucking years now."

Buffy heard the door start to swing closed, and the
men's voices fade as they returned to the main room.

"....when we get going..."

"....he acts like he's pretty serious about..."

"....that'll be the fucking day..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


She stared at herself in the full length mirror
mounted on the wall next to the sink, feeling dull
and lifeless...nothing like the fresh, neat feeling
she'd had upon leaving the house earlier.

Prim and proper? Dowdy? Not using her full
potential?

The only thing they'd left out was the word "mousy".

** "Not his usual type...if you know what I mean." **

Buffy knew exactly what he'd meant.

Devlin's usual type was, obviously, anything but
her.

So...what did that mean? What...he was just amusing
himself, killing some time before he could get out of
town and hook up with someone of his 'usual type'?

But what about the things he had said? They'd seemed
sincere.

** "You wouldn't believe the fastasies I've had about
teachers..." **

Staring at herself, she pulled her blouse out of the
elastic waistband of her skirt.

** "Give me your name and phone number." **

She slowly rolled the elastic, watching as her "prim
and proper" skirt got shorter and shorter.

** "I've never been more serious in my life." **

Swinging one leg up at a time, she smoothed her
stockings.

** "Get ready for me, darling." **

Buffy unfastened the top three buttons of her blouse.

** "I intend to rock your safe little world." **

She tucked the sides of her blouse inside, baring
her skin and showing a hint of her cleavage.

** "You're what...not used to a man being interested
in you?" **

Bringing her hands to her hair, she began undoing
her braid.

** "...being attracted to you?" **

She shook her head, spreading out the soft waves
the braid had left in her hair.

** "...wanting you?" **

She unslung her shoulder bag, dumping it's contents
out on the counter.

** "You'll need to get used to it." **

Bending at the waist, she brushed her hair
vigorously, then threw her head back. Full and
thick from the back brushing, it framed her face
in a honey colored cloud.

** "Tell me what you want, and I'll move heaven
and earth to get it for you." **


When she was finished redoing her make up, her
mouth was painted a glossy shade of crimson,
and her eyes were heavily shadowed.

** "I could fall in love with you without even trying." **

Her mascara wand lengthened her lashes, and a fair
amount of rose colored blush dusted her cheeks.

** "Do you think you could fall in love with me, too?" **

Oh, yes. Definitely. Without thinking twice.

Giving herself a final once-over in the mirror, she
smiled.

"Prim and proper?" she asked her reflection as she
gathered together her beauty products. "Well, as
Andy would say....Fuck THAT!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


She stepped out the rear door, and into the late afternoon
sun.

Devlin was waiting for her. Leaning back against the
saddle of the motorcycle, he was wearing a blindingly
white tee shirt, a snug fitting pair of jeans, and a short
leather jacket.

He glanced up when he heard her shoes crunching
the gravel beneath them.

When he saw her, his eyes widened and his jaw
sagged. Buffy wouldn't have been surprised to see
his tongue roll out and hit the ground.

Ordering every scrap of her nerve to get her feet
moving, she approached him with her hands clasped
behind her back, a position that thrust her breasts
forward enticingly...she hoped. "I'm ready for that
ride you offered me."

"Bloody hell," Spike muttered, still staring at her. "I've
died and gone to heaven." Standing upright, he
smiled and extended one hand. "Hop on, Miss
Buffy," he said. "I'm about to show you a very good
time."

TBC....

Still with me?

Blue Eyed Devil
Part 22





Buffy swallowed hard as she walked toward Spike,
sitting there so calmly on his mounted death
machine.

Being brave by putting on a false face was one thing,
but she was now finding out that actually following through
with said bravado was quite another.

"Come on, baby," he said, smiling charmingly. Oh, that
smile was going to be the end of her, she had no doubt.

As she moseyed towards him, hoping that something would
come up to change his mind about going for a ride...anything
would do, fire-flood-famine, she wasn't feeling picky...he suddenly
kick started the engine, making it come to life with the kind of a
scream she'd only heard in movies.

Her hands automatically flew up to cover her ears. She could
see him mouthing words at her, but couldn't hear them.

"What?" she yelled, shaking her head and frowning.

He started to speak again, then rolled his eyes and mimed
her removing her hands from over her ears.

"Oh." The scream of the motor had settled down to a bearable
roar, and she grinned uncertainly. "Did you want to tell me
something?" she asked loudly, still maintaining a healthy
distance from the mechanized beast.

Devlin gave her an appraising look, then beckoned her forward
with one finger.

Yep. Death. It was a certainty.

Buffy inched a bit closer. "Yes?"

"What's wrong?"

"Pardon me?" Another inch.

He spoke louder. "What...is...wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied, trying to sound sincere.

"Then climb on," he said, again holding out one
hand.

There was no way she could avoid it without looking
like a total weenie. Placing one hand in his, she let
him guide her onto the saddle behind him.

Buffy wound her arms around his middle, tightly enough
to cut off vital bodily functions. He patted the back
of her hand, then turned on the seat to look at her.

"You ever been on a bike before?"

"Excuse me?"

"I said...have you ever been on a bike...before?"

What, was he kidding? Was she behaving like someone
to whom such things as this were everyday
occurrences?

"No," she confessed. "But I've always," she mentally
crossed her fingers and toes, "wanted to."

Devlin gave her a seriously doubtful look. "You sure?"

"Yeah," she nodded hard. "Let's...you know...blow this
popsicle stand!"

He laughed, clearly delighted. Apparently, she'd been
successful at convincing him that she was ready to place
her life in his hands. "Give me a kiss first," he demanded.

She kissed him long and hard, almost ruining her
brazen front by saying "goodbye".


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


After she'd been on the machine for a while, she began
to relax. It wasn't nearly as frightening as she'd imagined
it would be.

Of course, he was staying off the main streets and
highways and was sticking to the coast road. The
"scenic route", he called it.

Stopping at a small roadside drive-in, the likes of which she
didn't know still existed outside of old movies and television
programs, he waited patiently as she used the bathroom.

Buffy's kidneys had taken a bumpy ride, and she stayed
until she couldn't squeeze out another drop, not wanting to
have to ask him to pull over beside a clump of bushes on the
way back.

When she came out of the bathroom, she found him standing
in front of a stand of trees, gazing out over the ocean as the
setting sun painted it gold and crimson. The place where he
stood was less than five feet from a sheer drop to the rocky
shoreline below.

She hated to bother him. He seemed to be thinking about
something quite deeply, and it felt crass of her to just push on
into his private thoughts.

Walking towards him, she stood by a bunch of unoccupied picnic
tables, waiting for him to notice her.

It didn't take long. He turned and smiled, then straddled one
of the benches and held out his hand. "Come and sit down
for a minute."

Buffy started to sit facing him, but he turned her around so that
she was facing the setting sun. Pulling her back until she was
reclining in his arms, he nuzzled her hair. "Can I ask you a
question?"

Hoping she wasn't about to be quizzed on any previous
experiences she might have had on motorcycles before,
she agreed.

"Well...not that I don't love the effect...but why did you go back
into the club looking like Miss Buffy, my sweet and no longer virginal
little preschool teacher, and then come back out looking like Ann
Margaret in 'Kitten With a Whip'?"

Well, she could hardly say that it was eavesdropping on a
private conversation that had inspired her sudden makeover.
Problem was, she just wasn't good at spur-of-the-moment
falsehoods.

"I just thought that I didn't look...that you might think I'm...well,
not sexy enough," she said lamely.

"For who?" he asked, clearly surprised. "For me? What have I EVER done or said to make you think that?"


Before she could stop them, the words were out of her
mouth and into his ear. "YOU didn't say anything."

She came down a tad too hard on the word 'you', and he
picked up on it. "But SOMEONE said something?"

Buffy just shrugged. No big deal.

Devlin easily narrowed a list of suspects. It couldn't be
Oz. In the first place, Oz never commented on the girls
his friends dated, and in the second place...Oz rarely
commented on much of anything. Stoic as the bleeding
Sphinx, the man was.

Andy was just as unlikely as Oz. He liked all girls, every
one he came into contact with, appearances notwithstand-
ing. All a girl had to have was a pulse.

Or not! Sometimes a pulse was optional.

After counting Oz and Andy out, it was obvious that Xander
was the culprit. He had a bad habit of opening his mouth
before his brain kicked in, and it had nearly gotten him
punched in the nose on more than one occasion.

Buffy was fidgeting uncomfortably, breaking his
concentration. "So...what did this mystery person say
to you? Come on, love...I know it was Xander. Tell
me so I can beat the crap out of him and still have time
to hire a new drummer before the tour."

She was sorry that she'd ever said anything. Was it
possible to actually die of embarrassment? Was she
about to find out?


Hating to say it, she mumbled something he couldn't
quite hear.

"What?"

"I said..." She raised her voice a little. "...prim and proper."

"Who is?"

"Apparently, I am!"

"He TOLD you that?!"

Buffy squirmed. "Not exactly."

"Well, WHAT exactly?" Spike asked, understandably
confused.

"He wasn't saying it to ME."

"Buffy." He made her turn and look at him. "What did he
say?"

Wishing the side of the cliff would suddenly slide off
into the ocean so that she could change the subject,
Buffy confessed. "That I'm not your type. My hair is
always pulled back...I don't wear enough make up...and
my skirt is too long."


"Fuck! I AM gonna kill him."

"Oh, don't get him WRONG," Buffy quoted, still a
little stung. "I'm nice and all that, but I'm just not your
usual type."

"I have a 'usual' type?"

"Xander seems to think so." She allowed herself a
tiny smile. "On the bright side, though....I have potential."

Devlin sighed and squeezed her. "Buffy...you're the only girl I
want. You know that....don't you?"

"You mean," she said teasingly, turning back to face the
ocean, "now that I'm more your usual type?"

"No!" he said quickly. "I mean...you have been...you...oh,
come on, you know what...I...hey, did I just hear you giggle?"

"Maybe a little," she admitted, trying to control it. "But, listen,
you can't yell at Xander...cause he'll think I'm a big tattle-
tale. I don't even let my kids kids get away with that."

He grumbled about it, but made no promise to keep quiet. In-
stead, he turned her on the bench and pulled her onto his
lap, kissing her until she was breathless.

"So, you like this look?" she finally asked, gesturing
down at her new 'self'.

Devlin gave her a long, slow once over, his hands rubbing
caressingly up and down her back. "I like any look that you
care to show me," he said, nuzzling her ear. "Especially the
one you showed me yesterday on the stairs..."

"Spike!"

"And in the bed..."

"Quit it!"

"And the shower..."

"I'm leaving."

"No, you're not." He bit down on her earlobe.

Buffy waited, then gave him a little push. "Hey! Let's not
forget the kitchen counter!" she reminded him.

He grinned lecherously. "Oh, I'll NEVER forget the
kitchen counter," he said, lifting his eyebrows in a highly
suggestive manner that turned Buffy's cheeks pink. "It'll
be one of our shining moments."

"One of them?"

"Uh-huh. In point of fact," he went on, kissing the warm
skin of her collarbone, "I was thinking about making
another...very special...memory."

Buffy pulled back and looked at him suspiciously. "Ex-
plain."

Devlin jerked his head to one side. "See that bike over
there? Well, I was thinking...."

"You know what?" Buffy interrupted. "You've gotta quit
calling that thing a bike. I ride a bike. It has two pedals
and one gear, and a little basket on the front, and the
brakes are...."

"The brakes are what?" he asked sharply.

"The brakes are fine." She leaned back in his embrace
and caught his "how dumb do you think I AM?" look. "They
will be fine," she amended. "I'll get them fixed."

"Thank you," he said politely. "Please do it BEFORE you
take another ride down Suicide Hill."

"Sunset Avenue," Buffy corrected. "And I was only nine
years old when that happened."

"I know, but you said...."

"And it wasn't even the same bike!"

He had to kiss her to stop her talking. "That's better,"
he said, when he'd subdued her into passivity. "Now, about
the bike...the MOTORCYCLE...I was having this little
fantasy earlier. When we were driving out here...you had your
arms around me...and I kept imagining one of your pretty
little hands slipping down into my..."

"It's the new look isn't it?" Buffy interrupted, hoping to
steer him away from the subject of motorcycle sex. "Now,
you think I'm easy."

With a sigh that started somewhere in the soles of his
feet, Devlin looked her square in the eye. "Miss Buffy...if
there ever was a word that couldn't be applied to you, the
word would be easy."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


While waiting for it to get completely dark, Devlin
ordered hamburgers and the greasiest french fries
Buffy had ever tasted.

She watched him douse his food liberally in salt
and ketchup, then dump seven packets of
sugar...SEVEN of them!....into a paper cup of iced
tea.

He took a long swallow and grinned at her. "Putting ice
in tea is one of the best ideas you yanks have ever
come up with."

"Nice to know we're good for something besides kicking
England's ass in a war," she came back smartly.

Spike laughed. "Well, someone's saucy tonight." He
looked up at her as she was licking a smear of ketchup
off one finger, and his voice changed dramatically. "You
ready to go, love?"

"Yeah, I guess..." She glanced up and caught the look
on his face. "...so."

"Good," he nodded. "Because if I can't be somewhere alone
with you real damn quick...I'll have to drop this ice in my lap."




TBC.....

AN: I stole the "pulse optional" line from
British comedian, Eddie Izzard.

Blue Eyed Devil



Part twenty-three....


The kids running the drive in placed their 'Closed'
sign in the window and piled into a black Ford
pick-up truck that had probably been new right
around the time that disco died.

When he was certain that everyone in the area had
departed, Spike wheeled his motorcycle under the lower
branches of a Monterey Pine. The moon was fat and
bright, and the ambiance couldn't have been more
romantic if he'd planned it that way.

Buffy watched as he flicked a couple of switches on the
control panel, and was surprised when music began
to play. "Motorcycles have radios?"

"Some do."

"How in the world can you hear the music?"

He grinned at her. "I turn it up real loud."

He wasn't turning it up loud now. It was at a perfect
level for them to enjoy, without being obnoxious or
frightening the local wildlife into a stampede.

When a new song started, Buffy's attention perked
up. "Hey, he sounds familiar."

Devlin reached for her hand and tugged her up off
the bench. "He should. He's the guy who's been
panting and moaning in your ear for the last couple
of days."

She giggled, fanning herself with her hand. "Gee...I'm
dating a radio star. The other girls will be so jealous."

He placed her right hand on his left shoulder, then
slipped his right arm around her waist. "My mother made
me take dancing lessons when I was thirteen. Let's see
if I can remember anything."

Taking her hand, he waltzed her around the moonlit
clearing, singing along with his voice on the radio...


"Watching every motion
In my foolish lover's game
On this endless ocean
Finally lovers know no shame
Turning and returning
To some secret place inside
Watching in slow motion
As you turn around and say

Take my breath away
Take my breath away


"I haven't heard this one before. Is it new?" Buffy
asked, trying not to watch her feet, while counting
silently to herself.

"Nope. One of our first," he replied. Releasing her
from his arm around her waist, he kept a hold of
her hand and spun her underneath his raised arm,
three times.

Butterflies danced in her tummy, making her laugh.


"Watching, I keep waiting
Still anticipating love
Never hesitating
To become the fated ones
Turning and returning
To some secret place to hide
Watching in slow motion
As you turn to me and say

Take my breath away.."


"It actually didn't do very well when if was first
released," he said, reclaiming her in his arms and
continuing to dance with her. "Then when 'Heart
Racer' hit big and went platinum, a lot of stations
started giving it air time."

Buffy was surprised. "Why didn't it do well?"

"Because it's not very good," he admitted. "But
anytime a band goes to the top of the charts, they
start to resurrect every piece of drek they can lay
their hands on."


"Through the hourglass I saw you
In time you slipped away
When the mirror crashed, I called you
And turned to hear you say
If only for today
I am unafraid

Take my breath away.."


This was probably the single most romantic moment
in her life so far. It had to be every girl's dream...an
amazingly handsome and wildly sexy rock and roll
star was singing a love song in her ear, and dancing
with her under a full moon and a sky full of stars..old
fashioned style dancing, too! Not the sort of thing
where the participants danced three feet away from
each other and never touched.


"Watching every motion
In this foolish lover's game
Haunted by the notion
Somewhere there's a love in flames
Turning and returning
To some secret place inside
Watching in slow motion
As you turn my way and say

Take my breath away
My love, take my breath away..."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The song ended, and Devlin slipped both arms
around her waist, walking her backwards towards the
parked motorcycle until Buffy felt the seat pressing
against the back of her upper thighs.

Then, with one finger under her chin, he tilted
her head up and looked down at her very
seriously.

"I love you."

His voice was soft, but his words were firm and
free of any hesitation or doubt.

Talk about having your breath taken away!

He had hinted at it, joked about it, and flirted
around the edges of it...but this was the first time
the actual three words had been uttered.

It thrilled her. It terrified her.

Her knees threatened to give out, and she had to
grab hold of his arms to keep herself from melting
into a shivery puddle.

"You're making me nervous, love," he said, his
brows drawing together. "Aren't you going to say
anything?"

Yes. She knew that "I love you" generally required a
like response. But these were words she had never
spoken to a man before. This was a huge, gigantic leap
into unknown waters for her, and she wasn't wearing a
life jacket.

After waiting for her to speak, Spike took a deep
breath and stepped back. "This isn't going the way
I hoped it would," he said, staring at his feet. "First
time I tell a girl that I love her, and I'm bollixing it
up but good."

First time?

Buffy felt her heart jump in her chest. "The...the first
time?" she asked, her voice shaky. "You've never...I
mean...never?"

Devlin shrugged. "Never," he confirmed. "I'm not saying I
haven't had...relationships...before. But I never fell in
love...until I saw you."

Everything that made life sweet, that gave it color and
magic, was shining from his eyes. This was just as new
to him as it was to her, and she was awed by the courage
he had to open his heart so completely.

Now, it was time for her to step away from the cautious and
carefully controlled patterns woven into the tapestry she'd
been constructing for her life. Love wasn't meant to be that
way.

Fear had no place in a loving heart, and life couldn't be
predicted or guaranteed. All it could be...was lived.

A wave of giddy happiness suddenly swept through her,
warming her from the inside out. All her mother's warnings
were forgotten. She would no longer worry about some
distant future that might never come to pass.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


He was taking her silent reverie the wrong way, seeing
it as a clear sign that she did not return his affections.

Humiliation burned inside of him, and he could have
kicked his own ass for speaking too soon. With slightly
reddened cheeks, he tried to salvage as much of his
dignity as he could by laughing it off.

"You know, I haven't been this embarrassed since
I tripped over a microphone cord and fell into the
drum kit," he said lightly. "I don't suppose you'd be
willing to just forget I said anything?"

Buffy answered him by launching herself at him. She
twined her arms around his neck, tugging until he
lowered his head. "I love you, too," she said, sudden
shyness making her voice almost inaudible.

"Pardon me?" he asked, leaning a little closer.

She raised her volume a notch. "I love you, too."

The frown on his face slowly began to fade, and
an uncertain smile tugged at the corners of his
mouth. "You do?"

"I really do."

His smile widened. "Well, that's a relief. I was
getting ready for you to scamper off into the
woods."

Buffy shook her head. "Not me," she replied,
returning his smile. "Goodness only knows WHAT'S
out there."

Spike slipped his hands under her arms, sitting her
sidesaddle on the seat of his motorcycle. "So, we're
exclusive?" he asked, sliding his hands under her
skirt and stroking the tops of her thighs.

His touch was distracting her. "Mm-hmm."

He parted her legs and stepped between them. "I
want to be your boyfriend, Buffy," he said. "Officially."

"Okay." She sighed as his fingers crept further up,
sliding her underpants down and off.

"With all the rights...and privileges...the position
entails."

One hand lifted her left thigh, maneuvering her into
straddling the seat of the bike. "They're yours."

He climbed on behind her and scooted her for-
ward. "There's no going back," he warned.

Pressing his front to her back, he reached around
and started unbuttoning her blouse.

Glancing down at his hands, she realized his
intent and turned bright red. "What are you doing?"

He bent down to whisper in her ear. "Making it
official."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


To Buffy's own everlasting surprise, she didn't protest
when Spike unfastened her blouse and bra. His hands
felt too good on her skin, and she wasn't about to
complain, even if she was outside where anybody and
his brother could see her.

When his hands skimmed up her sides and slipped
around to cover her breasts, she leaned her back
against his shoulder, nearly purring with the pleasurable
sensation.

Spike squeezed and molded her flesh, lightly flicking
his fingers across her nipples. "Nothing prim and proper
about you, Miss Buffy," he murmured into the curve of
her neck.

Nope. She'd left prim and proper behind about three
miles back.

But, when he urged her to lift up so that he could undress
her, she had to say something.

"Spike...no," she whispered, reaching back
to stroke the side of his face and take the edge off her
words. "I just...I can't...not out here."

He had angled the bike so that if anyone should drive
by and glance this way, all they would see was his
back. However, he didn't want to break the mood and
since she seemed so willing to go through with what
he wanted, he was agreeable to her request.

Totally naked could happen later, back when they
had plenty of time and a nice, comfortable bed to
play in.

"All right," he conceded, nibbling the soft skin below
her ear. "But if I can't have you naked, you're gonna have
to do something else to really get me going."

"Something else?"

She sounded alarmed, and he laughed. "Don't get all
worked up, luv. It's nothing completely depraved...not yet,
anyway."

That wasn't much help, but she decided not to press
the point and just waited for him to tell her what he
wanted.

"Talk to me," he said into her ear. "Make me hard."

Talking was something she could do. She could talk all
day, if the subject was right. "About what?" she asked,
knowing perfectly well what topic he was interested in,
and hoping she could pull it off.

"About the ongoing problem of global warming," he
said, reaching under her skirt again. "And how we can
contribute to it...right here."

He placed his hands on her inner thighs and began
moving them up. The light touch gave her goosebumps.
"Well," she said, matter-of-factly, "I guess we could
expend a little energy."

"Tell me how," he urged, sending an exploring finger
into the curls between her legs.

Buffy felt a rush of moisture dampening the seat she
was perched on. "Ex...exercise," she gasped.

Devlin removed one hand and reached down to unzip
his fly. "Sounds like fun," he said, extracting his erection
from the tight blue denim. "Will you bend over and touch
your toes?"

"I...what? On this?"

He laughed and pressed his hips against her. "God,
you're adorable," he said. "And you've made me very
hard, just talking about exercise. Imagine what you could
do if you really got down and dirty."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For some reason, Buffy felt challenged. Rising to it,
she turned her head until she could watch the expression
on his face. "You mean if I asked you to put your hands
on my b...my tits?" Her face turned bright red, but she
managed to say the word, one that had never passed her
lips before in her life.

He caught his breath sharply, a bit shocked at what
she had said. "God...Buffy," he muttered, pushing up her
skirt and grinding his rigid cock against her soft bottom.

She faced forward again, feeling pretty proud of herself.
Wrapping her fingers around the hand grips, she leaned
forward. "Suppose I told you...that I want you to touch
me here," she asked, lifting her rear. "That I want to feel
your fingers on me...making me...making me wet. What
would you do?"

Shaking his head in disbelief, he shrugged. "I would do
it," he informed her, stroking her moist sex. "You know I'm
your slave, baby."

"Oh, that's nice," she whispered, rocking against his
hand. "More, please."

"More what?"

"More of...what you're doing."

Sliding one arm around her waist, he deftly inserted his
finger inside her, sending it all the way in. "More of that?"
he asked, beginning to pump it in and out of her. "Do
you like it?"

Buffy's head fell back against his chest. "Uh-huh," she
said on a soft whimper of breath.

Spike wasn't going to be able to last much longer. He
wanted more than his finger inside of her.

"Buffy," he said, leaning forward, "reach up and grab
that branch."

One of the lower limbs of the tree was situated at just
the right height for what he had in mind.

She looked up when he peeled her hands off the
handlebars of the motorcycle and raised her arms in
the air. Grabbing the branch as requested, she held on
tightly.

"Pull yourself up a little," he instructed. He put one hand
on her waist, and used the other to position himself. "Now,
baby...slide down...ahhh...slowly, luv....oh, yeah."

With both hands on her waist now, he guided her up and
down, watching the place where his shaft disappeared and
reappeared so enticingly.

Buffy clung to the branch, using the muscles in her
arms to lift and lower herself. He went in so deeply that
his penis touched places inside of her that she'd never
known existed before.

"God, baby...that's so good." He hissed in air through
clenched teeth. "You feel so hot...so wet..."

Violent spasms jerked and shuddered through him,
making him lunge up harder, grinding himself into her.

"Fuck me," he panted, kissing and nuzzling the smooth,
damp skin of her back. "Fuck yourself....on me."

With a herculean effort, he forced himself to remain
still, letting her slide up and down, her tight sex grasping
and pulling on his cock.

Buffy felt completion approaching. She moved faster
and harder, almost throwing herself onto his shaft, making
him grunt with every impact.

"That's it," he groaned, cupping her breasts and fondling
them roughly. "Do it...come on...you know you want it...need
it...don't you, baby? Harder...harder, goddammit!"

She couldn't hold on anymore. All the strength in her
body was concentrating in one place, and her arms were
giving out.

Devlin must have sensed it, because he pulled her back
down. "Lean forward and grab the handlebars again," he
said, then planted his feet and shifted his own weight
forward.

Once she had a firm hold, he began power driving into her
at a meteoric pace. Placing one hand next to hers on the
right hand grip, he took her left breast into his free hand
and continued squeezing it, alternating from firm to gentle
pressure.

Ripples of pleasure widened and spread through them both
as their bodies slammed together in a primal rhythm.

"Baby," he said suddenly. "I'm...I can't last much longer..are
you...can you...oh, fuck...yes...Buffy...tighter...tighter!"

She squeezed her internal muscles down, clenching them
around his cock in a vise-like hold that only got stronger
when she began to climax. "Spike," she gasped. "I'm...oh.."

"Do it," he encouraged her. "Come for me, Buffy. Come hard.
I'm coming....with you, baby...now...ohhhh...yeah...right...now!"

Using both arms, he hauled her down on him, holding her
still as he ejaculated a huge amount of semen into her, his
hips jerking with every spurt of fluid he gave her.

Nothing was hidden...and nothing was held back.

Passion fused their bodies together, just as surely as love
bound their hearts.


TBC.....

(Okay, I gave you motorcycle sex AND a confession
of love. Gimme your opinions)

Blue Eyed Devil
Part 24

(check out the gorgeous 'Blue Eyed
Devil' fan art by Tista at http://www.
spuffyfighting.com/bed)


Buffy was far more relaxed on the ride back
to Union Jack's. The combination of the moonlight,
the warmth of the air, and the pleasant memories of
their encounter under the pine tree, was making her
positively mellow.

Until Spike pulled the motorcycle into the back parking
lot and she saw what was waiting there.

The truck that had been there when they'd left was long
gone. In it's place was another, half again as long. It was
painted a gleaming ebony, and there was a beautiful
painting on the side; a deep green aura, with a pair of
very recognizable blue eyes and slanting dark brows in
the center of it. Beneath this work of art someone had
painted the name of the band in the same emerald green.

Buffy knew without being told, that this was the truck that
would soon be packed up with all the paraphernalia necessary
for a rock and roll band to take on a nationwide tour.

Although she hated to even look at it, she pasted a smile
on her face as Devlin pulled up next to the truck and killed
the engine.

"Wow. Fancy," she said, trying to sound as though she
absolutely loved it.

Spike sighed impatiently. "I told them not to do that," he said,
indicating the picture. "I just wanted a plain truck...something
to get us where we're going. That...thing...is gonna attract a
lot of unwanted attention."

"Well," Buffy said consolingly, "that's what you get for having
such beautiful blue eyes."

He examined the representation more closely. "It looks like
I'm wearing make up," he complained, lowering the bike's
kick stand and climbing off. Standing in front of the truck, his
hands on his hips, he frowned. "This was our manager's idea,"
he said, shaking his head. "God only knows what he'll have on
the side of the bus."

"The bus?" Buffy asked, standing beside him with her hands
clasped in front of her."

"Yeah," he said absently, walking around the truck to examine
the matching picture on the opposite side. "This is just for the
equipment. The bus is for us to travel on. Kind of a hotel on wheels,
so I'm told."

That particular description gave Buffy an unpleasant association.
Hotels...motels...sleeping arrangements...all the girls that would be
throwing themselves at the band...

She couldn't stand looking at it for another second.

"Well...it's awfully late," she said, glancing at her watch. "I
should be getting on home."

Devlin turned around and regarded her with a boyish
smile. "Can I come, too?"

A rush of love washed through her, and she smiled back
at him. "If you want to."

He laughed and rolled his eyes. "If I want to...she says."
Slipping his arms around her, he walked her backwards
to where her car was parked. "Yes, Miss Buffy. I want to.
Besides," he added, with just a touch of self satisfaction, "I'm
your boyfriend, remember?"

"That's right," she said, snapping her fingers. "It must have
slipped my mind."

"Oh, really?" He pushed her up against the driver's side
door of her car, plastering his body against hers. "Well, I guess
I'm just gonna have to refresh your memory then." Ducking
his head, he kissed her, long and hard. "You get started, babe.
I'll be right behind you."

******************************

Spike watched the tail lights of Buffy's car disappear. Turning
to go into the rear door of the club, the equipment truck caught
his attention again, and a wave of dislike rose up in him.

There was no real reason for him to feel that way. Even though
he'd voted to keep the truck without ornamentation, it wasn't
half as gaudy as some he'd seen. And all that really mattered
was that it was large enough to carry their gear.

He had seen the expression on Buffy's face before she'd
managed to cover it with a smile, and knew what had caused
it. The deadline for their leaving was now only four short days away,
and this truck was a big, fat loud reminder of that unpleasant fact.

Devlin sighed and headed in the back door of Union
Jack's, wondering when everything had become so bloody
complicated.

In the space of just a few days, he'd found the
girl he wanted to make a future with. She was beautiful,
smart, and fantastically sexy, and although she had
been a virgin, she made love like an absolute angel.

Now, instead of settling in and making serious plans
for their future, he had to get on a bus that would carry
him hundreds of miles away from her.

For the first time since the whole thing had been
proposed, the tour he had looked forward to with such
excitement didn't sound at all appealing.


******************************

He was surprised to see that Andy, Oz and Xander
were still inside. They were kicking back at one of
the tables, drinking beer and discussing some new
arrangements of their songs.

"Hey!" Xander said loudly. "Boss man is back. Where's
your little cutie?"

Devlin folded his arms across his chest and grinned.

"She's gone on home," he said casually. "I'm gonna
join her there later."

"Sorry about the fucking truck," Andy said. "I told 'em
to leave off the black eye liner. Said you prefer a nice
soft shade of brown, but they don't fucking listen."

Xander giggled like a hyena. Oz said nothing, although
his lip curved in a small smile.

"Funny," Spike said. Pulling up a chair and turning
it around, he straddled the seat, then glanced at
Xander, although he addressed his question to all of
them. "So...what do you think of Buffy?"

"Nice," Oz said briefly.

"Oh, yeah," Andy agreed. "A fucking doll."

"I like her," Xander chimed in. "She's great."

Zeroing his gaze in on him, Spike asked, "You don't think
she's a bit...prim and proper?"

"Buffy?" Xander glanced at him, then stared at his hands. "Why
would you think that?"

"Well, you know," Spike said, shrugging, "her skirt is a
little long...she doesn't wear a lot of make up...her hair's
always pinned up."

Xander sighed. "Okay, what were you doing? Eavesdropping
or something?"

"Not exactly."

"Look...I like her," Xander said emphatically. "I really
do. She's just not the type you usually go for, is all."

Spike stood up and pushed the chair away. "Don't
look so nervous," he told his friend. "I'm not gonna hit
you. Just be careful what you say in the future. You
never know who might overhear you."

He pulled his car keys out of his jacket and headed for
the door. Before leaving, he turned back and smiled,
looking like a highly satisfied man.

"Just so you know," he said. "I don't care if she pins
her hair up tight during the day...cause I'm the guy who
gets to take it down at night."

On his way out the door, he heard Andy.

"You've got the biggest fucking mouth in the universe,
Harris."


******************************

Buffy was sitting in front of her vanity when the
doorbell rang.

She'd scrubbed her face clean of all the extra
make up and was now brushing her hair until it was
smooth, trying hard to keep away the gloomy
thoughts.

Four days to go. And she wasn't even sure how much she'd
see of him during those four days. She had to work, and he
surely must have last minute arrangements and plans to set
in place. Plus, there'd be rehearsals and maybe even social
obligations to be met.

Four short days.

And what would she do then....?


TBC.....

Title: Blue Eyed Devil
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks.
Rating: Up to NC-17
Summary: Spike Devlin is the lead
singer for the band 'Blue Eyed Devil'.
Buffy Summers is the local preschool
teacher he falls in love with.




Part twenty-five....


Buffy flung the door open. Without waiting for a
greeting, she took hold of Spike's jacket and yanked
him inside the house, then wrapped her arms around
his neck and kissed him long and hard.

"Good lord," he gasped, breaking away to breathe. "I've
never had such a nice 'hello' before."

She smiled and licked her lips. "You taste like sugar,"
she reported.

Giving her a slightly embarrassed look, he showed her
what he had in his hand. "I drove by it and I couldn't stop
myself from going in," he said, displaying a bag from the
local Krispy Kreme. "Have you ever had these?" he asked,
opening the bag and holding it out for her to examine the
contents. "They're bloody brilliant. Just going inside the
shop is a sugar rush."

Buffy shook her head. He had been right when he'd told
her that he was worse than any child when it came to
sweets. Still, there were worse things....

"And you just had to eat one?" she asked, hands on her
hips.

"Well...yeah." He handed her the bag and discarded his
jacket. "They put one in your hand the second you walk in
the door, and...well...you know me."

Buffy peeked into the bag and counted ten glazed donuts,
still warm and soft. "Uh-huh. So, you bought ten of them?"
she asked skeptically.

He pretended to look shocked. "They only gave me ten? I
should go right back there and demand the other two. Wait
here and I'll..."

She snagged his arm as he turned away, pulling him into
the front room. "Oh, no you don't," she said firmly. "I may
never see you again."

God...three of those sugar bombs! He'd be climbing the
walls! Unless she could distract him.

Sinking down on the couch, she gave him the most
seductive smile she could come up with. "They smell good.
Maybe I should dab some of the sugar behind my ears for
you."

Devlin knelt on the couch beside her, then dropped forward
onto his hands, holding his weight off of her. "Believe me, luv,
you don't need sugar to attract me. I'm already completely...
attracted." He lowered his head and kissed the side of her
throat.

Buffy tilted her head back, shivering as his lips moved down
her neck. She reached into the open bag and extracted one
of the donuts. A little more sugar wasn't going to faze him in
the slightest.

She wiped her finger over the surface of the pastry...coating
it with the warm, melted glaze...then held it up to his lips.

Devlin grinned and started to take her finger into his mouth,
but she suddenly pulled it away and used it to dab the base
of her throat with the sticky glob of sugar.

His eyes widened briefly, and he immediately ducked his head
to lick up the sweetness from her skin. "Mmmm," he moaned
softly. "Even better now."

Bringing one hand up between them, he unbuttoned her
blouse, then took the donut out of her hand and smeared
glaze on the plump upper curves of her breasts. Tossing the
mashed donut onto the coffee table, he began applying his
tongue to her skin, cleaning every inch of exposed skin.

"Undo your bra," he whispered, grinning lecherously as
she obeyed. He fished around in the bag for another donut,
and extracted a chocolate glazed one, rubbing the gooey
chocolate onto each of her nipples.

Buffy inhaled sharply at the sensation, then released the
breath she'd taken when she felt the warm wash of his
tongue swirling around and around her nipples, making them
hard and sensitive.

"Baby...you taste so good," he murmured against her skin. "And
I love you so much."

She smiled, twining her fingers into his curls. "I love you, too."

He skimmed the sleeves of her shirt down her arms,
letting her sit up a bit to pull it off. Her bra quickly followed,
landing on the floor next to her top. Moving down her body, he
nudged her legs apart, then looked up at her. "Guess what
else I have in the bag?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows
suggestively.

"More donuts?"

His right hand dipped into the sack and came back out holding
a fat donut. "Jelly filled," he informed her, wrapping his fingers
around the treat and beginning to squeeze.

"Hey!" Buffy squealed. "Where exactly are you planning on
putting that gunk?"

He chuckled wickedly. "Between your luscious thighs, darling.
But don't worry....I plan to lick it all off. By the time I get
finished using my tongue on you, you won't be able to move
for a...what did you say?"

"I said...this is a brand new couch."

He moved her panties to one side. "I promise not to spill
a drop...of anything."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


They ended up on the floor.

After cleaning her as thoroughly as he'd promised, and
bringing her to a toe curling climax, he rolled off the
couch, taking her with him and pushing the coffee table a
few feet away.

She tried to hold on to him, but he slipped away and
rose to his feet to undress. Naked, he strode across the
room and twisted the knobs on the gas fireplace until he
had a warm and romantic blaze going. He placed her throw
pillows on the carpet, then picked her up and deposited her
in the middle of the small nest he'd built before the fire.

Buffy stretched out one arm, wanting him to take her hand.
When he did, she tugged him until he was lying beside her,
then rolled on top of him and settled herself comfortably.

With her cheek pressed against his chest, she sighed
happily, staring at the fire as he rubbed his hands up and
down her back.

"It's starting to rain," she said softly. "Can you hear it?"

"Mm-hmm...it's one of my favorite sounds."

"Mine, too." She looked at him, folding her arms across
his chest and resting her chin on them. "What else are your
favorite sounds?"

He laughed. "What a leading question."

"Yeah, so tell me."

Continuing to stroke her back, he took a deep breath in
and out. "Wind chimes. My grandmother had about a dozen
of them hanging on her back porch. I pretty much grew up
there, and I remember hearing those chimes when I was out-
side playing."

Buffy closed her eyes, picturing that little boy in her mind,
seeing him pushing a collection of toy car and trucks around
a garden, looking up every now and then to watch the wind
chimes dance in a light breeze.

"Good music, of course," he went on. "Applause when someone
enjoys our show. The kids at your school, when I played for
them...that was great. Listening to them sing along and clap
their hands."

She smiled at the memory. "They really liked you. You're all
they talked about for the rest of the day."

"Yeah?" He sounded pleased. "Think they'd like a repeat
performance?"

Surprised, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Can
you do that? I mean, will you have the time before you..."

Unable to make herself finish the sentence, she just left it
hanging.

Devlin thought for a moment, mentally calculating every-
thing he still had to do before Thursday. "I can try. Don't
promise them anything, but I'll definitely try."

Pleased as she was to hear this, Buffy wanted to change
the subject so as not to veer off into unhappy thoughts of his
departure. "What other sounds do you like?"

He held her arms and pulled her up until they were face
to face. "Your heart beating...those breathy little gasps
when I'm making love to you, right before you come."

Her cheeks turned pink, and she hid her face against
the side of his neck.

"Miss Buffy? Are you blushing?" He sounded delighted
at the idea.

"No," was her muffled reply.

"I don't believe you," he chided. "Let me see."

"No."

"Come on."

"You really have a problem with that word, don't you?"

Forcing her face up, he grinned unrepentantly. "Only when
it gets in the way of something I want."

"There, see!" she said, looking right at him. "I told you I'm not."

He cupped her face in his hands, stroking with his
thumbs. "Your cheeks are awfully warm."

"We're three feet from the fire."

"Yeah...that MUST be it."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Now, you tell me some of YOUR favorite sounds."

She scarcely needed to stop and think. "Well, there's
this guy I know..."

"Yeah?"

"Plays the guitar and sings."

"He any good?"

Buffy smiled slowly. "He's pretty darn good," she said,
leaving the comment open to interpretation.

Devlin shrugged. "Bet he's not as good as me."

"He's also a little conceited."

"I am not," he countered, pinching her rear. "Take that
back!"

"Or what?"

"Or I'll have to get rough with you."

Buffy tilted her head to one side. "Is that a promise or a
threat?"

Taking a firmer grip on her arms, he rolled her onto her
back and lay on top of her. "Is that a dare?" he asked,
grinding his erection against her mound.

She had no wit to reply. All she could do was lie
very still as he began licking her breasts again.

"You still taste sweet," he moaned, moistening her
skin. His tongue circled each taut nipple before he
took one into his mouth and sucked it roughly, nipping
with his teeth, holding her down so that she couldn't
move.

As he pulled her other breast into his mouth and gave
it the same attention, she whimpered in her throat and
arched her back for him.

"Spike...." She was panting.

"Yes, baby...that's right," he said. "Say my name. Don't
ever stop."

"I....I won't if...if you won't."

What with her having been a virgin, Devlin was amazed
at what a sensuous little thing she was turning out to be.
All the untapped passion that had been building up in her
for years was finally being set free, and he was the lucky
son-of-a-bitch that had turned the key.

"I won't," he promised her. "I'll suck you and suck you
until you can't take it anymore."

Between the fire in the hearth, and the one burning beneath
her skin, her body glowed with a light sheen of perspiration,
as though she'd been lightly coated with glitter.

Rolling his tongue around her erect nipples, he was
driving her slowly mad. He alternated pressure, sometimes
soft and sweet, and sometimes hard enough to leave a
bruise.

Buffy sank her nails into his shoulders, encouraging him
to take what he wanted.

Devlin hardly needed encouragement. The taste and
feel of her breast in his mouth inspired him, and rational
thought was dwindling fast, leaving nothing but a primal
urge that he couldn't hold back.

Switching to her other breast, he cupped his hand
beneath it and lifted it to his mouth, molding the soft
flesh with his fingers.

Buffy's thighs clamped around him, and she raised
her hips to grind against his hard shaft. Her cries were
becoming more and more ragged as he lapped at her
breasts.

"I...I need," she gasped. "Oh, I....I want..."

"Tell me."

"You...to touch me. Please...touch me..."

Spike slipped his hand down between her legs,
rubbing his fingers in her wetness. "Like this?"

"Yes." She sank her fingers into his hair, yanking
him roughly back to her breast, forcing him to suck
harder. Her body vibrated like a tuning fork, while
her nerves were stretched to their utmost limits.

"More," she begged shamelessly, squeezing her
eyes tightly shut.

He returned his hand to her breast, fondling it
and pinching her nipple. When he pulled on it, she
felt contractions in her womb.

Devlin brought his thigh up and settled it between
hers to give her the pressure and friction she needed.

Catching her nipple in his mouth again, he suckled
it and shook his head a little.

With her sex swollen and in need of release, she
rubbed it against his leg as hard as she could, then
let out a sharp cry and rode out the waves of pleasure.

Spike released her breast from his mouth and pulled
back. "Jesus Christ," he muttered. "Did you come?"

She still couldn't speak, so she just nodded.

"That's the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He buried
his face between her breasts, kissing and nuzzling
them as she came down from out of the clouds.

"You never stop surprising me, Miss Buffy."

Or herself, apparently.



TBC....

Feedback is welcome.

Check out the 'Spike Devlin' wallpaper that Trista
made at: www.spuffyfighting.com/bed

Blue Eyed Devil
Part 26



Let's go upstairs," he murmured, stroking her hair
back from her face. "I want to take you to bed."

Buffy kept her expression hidden. "Mmm...now that you
mention it, I'm a little sleepy."

Spike was silent for a long moment, then eased her
off of him. Arranging her on her stomach, he draped his
upper body over hers, leaning down until she felt his
warm breath stirring tendrils of her hair.

"Whisper to me softly, breathe words upon my skin," he
sang to her, his voice a sexy growl in her ear.

"No one's near and listening, so please don't say goodbye.
Just hold me close and love me, press your lips to mine."

His tongue darted out and caressed her earlobe. Taking
her hand, he stretched her arm straight out at her side,
then slid his own hand back up to her shoulder.

"Mmmm...mmmm...feels so right...feels so right.."

Buffy allowed her eyes to drift shut, concentrating on
the sound of his voice and the feel of his hand.

"Lying here beside you, I hear the echoes of your sighs.
Promise me you'll stay with me and keep me warm tonight.."

Devlin brushed her hair off the back of her neck, nuzzling
the sensitive skin he uncovered.

"So hold me close and love me, give my heart your smile
Mmmm...mmmm...feels so right...feels so right."


Slowly, his lips trailed down her spine, his tongue just
barely touching her. She parted her lips as her breathing
began to speed up.

"Your body feels so gentle, and my passion's rising high.."

His mouth lingered in the small of her back, while his
fingers lightly traced the path his lips had taken.

"You're loving me so easy, your wish is my command.."


Buffy was melting beneath his tender touch. A soft whimper
escaped her throat and she felt him smile against her skin.

Moving back up, his hand slid down her arm again, his
fingers lacing with hers.

"Just hold me close and love me, tell me it won't end.."

How had she managed to go all her life without this man? she
wondered hazily. Turning her onto her back, he gazed down
at her, his eyes stormy and dark with passion.

"Mmmm...mmmm...feels so right.."

He placed one finger beneath her chin and tilted her face,
leaning his head down to meet her lips with his.

"Still feeling sleepy, luv?" he asked, tangling his fingers
in her hair.

Sleep? What was that? Who needed sleep?

Buffy answered him by twining her arms around his neck.

"Some other time, maybe."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lying on her bed, their bodies moved together
rhythmically.

Devlin had her breast in his mouth, sucking on it
until she whined and squirmed. One hand slid up
her back and lifted her upper body clear off the
mattress.

When he pulled away, he brought his hand around
and took her breast in his hand, examining the hard,
rose colored nipple for a long moment before his tongue
darted out and tickled it.

Buffy's body arched forward, not wanting to lose contact
with that talented tongue. Back and forth, around and
around, he licked and nibbled the taut peak.

Wondering when she'd turned into such a raging
nymphomaniac, she parted her legs, allowing him to
lie in the V of her widespread thighs. Devlin released
her breast with an audible 'pop', and rubbed his abdomen
against her sex.

"You're kind of wet," he observed, grinning fiendishly.

"Very." She smiled back at him. "I'm not dreaming this,
am I?"

"What?" he laughed. "What makes you ask that?"

Buffy tried to concentrate, but he wasn't exactly making
it easy. "Well...the day you came to the school...the
first time...I had this dream."

"Tell me," he entreated her, his eyes dancing with
amusement.

She tried. "I dreamed that you came back, and I was
alone in my classroom...and we had sex on my desk."

"Shit! That sounds fantastic. Let's go and do that
right now."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "As if I would."

"Oh, come on," he begged. "I promise not to mess up
your neat little piles of paper, Miss Buffy."

"Some other time."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"All right, then. Let's fuck."

"SPIKE!"

"What?"

He sat up and braced himself against the head
board, pulling her onto his lap.

"Lean back on one hand," he instructed her. "Now,
take hold of my dick." He held on to her hips,
guiding her. "Lift a little...that's it...now, just...slide
right down on it...that's the way...feel good?"

"Good" was a hilarious understatement. Placing
her other hand behind her for leverage, she moved
up and down on his hard pole.

"Faster, baby," he encouraged her.

Buffy looked down between them, watching in total
fascination as his penis disappeared inside of her,
reappearing an instant later. "Oh, god," she moaned.

"Like the way that looks?"

"Yeah-huh," she replied, unable to take her eyes off
their joined flesh.

"Me, too." He shuddered slightly, slipping his hands
beneath her bottom to help her bounce. "Come on,
darling...lift and fuck...ride me hard...take what you
want."

"I want...I want you..." she stammered.

"I want you, too." Gripping her ass firmly, he held her
still and began pounding up into her. "Gonna make you
come...come hard...yeah...oh, fuck yes..."

"You...you, too?"

"Oh, Christ...yes. Want to come with you...come in your
sweet little pussy..." His fingers clutched her hard enough
to leave bruises, as his hips pistoned upwards.

Buffy was about to go over the edge. She could feel
herself tightening around his invading shaft, bathing it
in her warm fluids. "Spike...I'm...I'm..."

"You what?" he demanded. "What are you about to do?
Tell me...say it!"

No longer shy about the words, she clenched her
fists in the bedding and almost screamed, "I'm coming!
I am...oh, yes...Spike...now...now...oh!...oh!...."

When he felt the contractions of her pussy, he
suddenly lunged forward until she was underneath
him. Sliding his arm beneath one knee, he lifted
her leg and rammed into her over and over and
over.

"Yes! Fuck, yes!" he said through clenched teeth. He
delivered his final thrust, grinding himself into her
with an utter lack of finesse...just needing to do
it...needing to come...come inside of her...fill her
up with his love...with his seed...spill it into her
as far as he could send it...soaking her in it...huge
spurts of cream and oh, yeah...there it was...in
her...all of it...every...last drop..."BUFFY!"

She could feel his body go rigid...and then relax,
collapsing on top of her.

With his face buried against the side of her neck,
he panted and groaned, thrusting weakly a few more
times.

Buffy wrapped her arms and legs around him,
petting and stroking him until he was calm in her
embrace.

"God, I love you," he whispered in her ear. "I'll
always love you...just you....just you..."

"I know." She sighed and smiled. "Can you hear the
rain?"


TBC....

(We're starting the countdown to Devlin's departure and
yes, he's definitely going)

Title: Blue Eyed Devil
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks!
Rating: Up to NC-17
Summary: AU. Spike Devlin is the
lead singer for the band 'Blue Eyed
Devil'. Buffy Summers is the local
preschool teacher he falls in love with
shortly before leaving for a nationwide
tour.



Part twenty-seven.....


The telephone woke them at 11:30 Sunday morning.

It was still raining, and the room was dark even through her
sheer white curtains. Every so often, there was a flash of
lightning, followed by a boom of thunder.

Buffy's hand reached over Devlin's chest, groping around for
the phone on her night table. "H'lo," she said sleepily.

"Buffy, hi! How have you been?"

The voice was familiar, but it took her a moment to put
a face to it.

"Fine," she said softly, sitting up and turning her back on
the man sleeping beside her. "How about you...Really?...I
didn't know that...That's great...Congratulations....Pretty soon
you'll be running that bank...I know you have...What?...Oh,
I don't know...When?...I...I don't think I can, Riley...I already
have plans for today...Tonight, too...."

Technically, Spike hadn't mentioned any particular plans,
but wasn't it part of the boyfriend/girlfriend dynamic to assume
such things on a weekend?

She put Riley off as well as she could, promising to talk to
him later in the week. As she replaced the handset, a strong
arm slid around her waist and hauled her back the foot and a
half she'd scooted away.

Molding his naked body securely around hers, Spike began
kissing the side of her throat. "Who was that?" he asked, his
voice perfectly alert, not in the slightest bit sleepy sounding.
He'd obviously been awake through her entire conversation with
Riley.

Buffy wasn't sure what she should say. Riley wasn't anyone
terribly important in her life. She'd dated him a few times, and
they'd exchanged some rather tepid embraces. He had made no
secret of the fact that he wanted to get to know her much better,
but she'd always held back.

Of course, now she knew why. Subconsciously, she must have
known that she was meant to love someone else.

But her 'someone else' was going to be leaving in a few
short days, and he hadn't really said anything about coming
back. She couldn't say for certain whether he even WOULD be
returning, let alone when.

Maybe, it was time to push a couple of buttons.

"That was Riley," she said casually. "He's a...friend."

The arm around her waist tightened. "Sounded like he was
asking you out today," Devlin growled, propping his head
on his hand and looking down at her.

She shrugged casually. "He works at the bank and I guess
he just got some kind of huge promotion...assistant manager
or something. He wanted to celebrate."

"With you?" Spike's dark brows slanted together in a frown.

Buffy stretched her arms over her head. "I guess so."

He lay silently for a moment. "I heard you say you'd see him
later in the week."

"Well...he asked me out for dinner. I didn't say I'd go."

Spike turned over onto his back, staring at the pattern
of the rain on the window. After a long pause, he turned
and looked at her. "I don't want you going out with him."

She was a little surprised at his tone. "He's a friend,"
she said defensively.

"I...I don't think so," he replied. "He's a man who's interested
in you."

"You're exaggerating the case."

He sat up and grabbed his jeans off the floor. "I really
don't think I am," he said curtly, standing to yank his pants
up. He turned to look at her, wrenching his zipper up so
violently that she gasped. "You've gone out with him before,"
he accused.

Buffy sat up as well, holding the sheet up over her breasts. "Yes,"
she admitted, wishing suddenly that she'd never started this in
the first place. She should have known she wouldn't be able to
pull it off. "So?"

He folded his arms across his chest. "Have you done anything
with him?"

"Have I...what? What's THAT supposed to mean?" she asked,
her spine stiffening.

"Well, I know you haven't slept with him. Have you kissed him?"

His tone was getting way too demanding and it was beginning to
irritate her. "I'm not sure that's any of your business," she replied
cooly.

"Oh, well...excuse the fuck out of me," he said, flinging his
hands up. "I thought you being my girlfriend sort of made it
my business."

"Well, you thought wrong!" she informed him. "My past has
nothing at all to do with you, and I don't appreciate being
interrogated about it."

"Fine." His hands were now on his hips, his eyes narrowing. "I
won't interrogate you any further."

"Thank you."

"But I don't want you seeing this guy."

Buffy, who had no real interest in seeing Riley anyway,
wasn't about to sit still for this. She yanked the top sheet
loose and wrapped it around her as she stood up. Pushing
her hair out of her eyes, they faced off across the expanse
of the bed.

"You want to run that by me one more time?" she asked,
her own eyes snapping with irritation.

"What part didn't you understand?" he asked in a snotty
tone of voice.

"The part where you tell me what I can and can't do! Who
exactly do you think you are?"

His brows arched. "I thought I was your boyfriend. If I'm
wrong, tell me now."

God....how had this turned into such a mess?

She had to struggle to keep her voice down. "You don't have
the right to tell me who I can be friends with."

"That guy doesn't want to be your friend," he countered. "He
wants you!"

"You don't even know him!" she yelled. "He could be
sixty years old...or already involved with someone...or
gay! You can't possibly know what he wants after
listening to one half of a five minute phone conversation!"

"Is he any of those things?" Spike demanded.

"Well....no....but that's not the point." Buffy clenched her
hands into fists to keep them from shaking. "God...I don't
believe you're acting this way! What's the matter with
you?"

"Oh, because I don't want my girl seeing some other
guy, that means there's something wrong with me?" He
yanked his shirt up off the floor and dragged it over his
head. "Maybe," he added, buckling his belt, "there's
something wrong with you!"

"Like what?" she cried. "What did I do?"

"Maybe...now you've gotten a little taste of THIS," he
snapped, cupping his hand over his crotch and squeezing
it, "you want to see what else is available. Zat
your problem, love? You looking to cut a few more
notches on your bedpost? See if there's something
better?"


All the color drained out of Buffy's face as she stared at
him in shocked disbelief. Who had he turned into? "I...I
don't..." she stammered, unable to form a coherent sen-
tence.

"Maybe something bigger?" Devlin asked snidely. "Is
that it, babe? Think old Riley has a bigger cock for you
to ride?"

The color that had washed away returned to her instantly,
mounting high in her cheeks as her eyes darkened with
rage at his crude questions.

"You...you GET OUT!" she screamed, pointing at the
door and stamping her foot. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

"FINE!" he roared back, grabbing his boots off the floor
and heading for the door. He yanked it open so violently
that it banged against the wall with a resounding "crack".

As he clattered down the stairs, Buffy ran out and leaned
over the landing. "DON'T COME BACK...EVER!!"

Devlin stopped at the front door. With one hand on the
knob, he turned around and spat, "No problem...Miss
Buffy."

The door slammed behind him, the sound coinciding with
another loud clap of thunder.

Buffy remained at the top of the stairs. The anger
had mysteriously vanished, leaving her mute with
pain as tears began to brim over in her eyes.

One hand slowly raised to cover her trembling lips,
and she sank down on the floor...staring at the empty
doorway.

What had she done?





TBC.....

(The reason Buffy appears to be blaming
herself, when it's really Spike who behaved
badly, is because she feels like she may have
instigated the argument by not just telling him
that Riley means nothing to her. Maybe not
logical, but since when is love logical?

I also felt that Devlin was getting a little
too good to be true. I wanted to give him a
character flaw, and jealousy was about
the only thing I could think up, since I didn't
want him to be a liar or unfaithful, or abusive)