~*~
Two days passed, way too slowly for Buffy’s taste. She continued to hang out with Spike’s friends, although after that interview, she hardly saw Spike himself. Generally he skipped lunch and either hung out in the library or the computer lab—which, Buffy kept telling herself, was just fine with her. Oz, Willow, Fred, Anya, Xander, and Faith were plenty of company for her. Uh-huh. Plenty.
Now it was Friday night, and she was getting ready to go to the Bronze, a local underage club. But her preparations weren’t of the usual sort, and it was bothering her.
Usually, Friday and Saturday were both really busy days for her—shopping and Bronzing till she and her friends were just about ready to die. But ever since that fateful—and silly, but Buffy was too depressed to laugh at it much—fallout, not a single one of her old friends had talked to her. With the exception of calls from Willow and Faith, her phone had been silent. It was really kinda lonely.
Willow had managed to talk her into going to the Bronze with Spike’s crowd, but she was still really unsure about the whole thing. She knew Cordy, Harmony and company would be there; they always were on Friday nights, and up until a few days ago Buffy would have joined them. In fact, she’d gone to the Bronze for almost as long as she could remember—but she’d never seen Spike or anyone there before.
She finished clipping her hair back and glanced at her silent phone, sighing. “God. Why did I let Wills talk me into this again?” She stepped back and studied her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing a simple black skirt that fell just to her knees. The hem was cut at sharp angles, making it fun instead of boring. Her red top was sparkly and accented her blonde hair well. She wasn’t wearing much makeup, but it was enough to make her eyes look bigger than usual and her lips cute and pouty.
She didn’t think she looked half as good as she usually did, but she just sighed. Oh, well. Not like there’s anyone I want to impress. Spike probably wouldn’t even be there...
Her stilettos fell from numb fingers when she realized what she’d just though. No. There is no impressing! Or—or wanting to impress! None whatsoever!
It was kinda hard to lie to herself in her head.
“Damn it,” she muttered, quickly strapping on her shoes. “Stupid Spike with his stupid hair, and his accent, and—uh-uh.” She shook her head firmly. “Not gonna go there. I hate him. Really, really hate him. Yep. There is lots of hateyness where Spike Walsh is concerned.”
She was still repeating that, like it was her frickin’ mantra or something, when she walked out the door.
*
Why the hell had he let Red talk him into this?
‘Course, Red could talk just about anyone into just about anything. She was skilled that way. But this was Buffy Summers she was talking about.
Red’d begged him to come, saying that Buffy would need as much company as she could get. It was, she’d argued, bound to be stressful for the blonde, since Queen C and her minions held court there every Friday and Saturday night.
He really should have said that if it was so damn stressful for the bint, she could just stay home.
It was bad enough, really, that he’d almost slipped up the day of the interview. He’d been a hair away from telling her he’d though she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in his life that time at Cordelia’s pool party.
That would have been the biggest bloody mistake he’d ever made in his life.
And now he was getting ready to hop into the DeSoto and drive off to the Bronze like he just couldn’t wait to spend his Friday night with one of the biggest bitches on the planet. Wonderful.
Except he knew that she wasn’t. One of the biggest bitches on the planet, that is. She’d had two days to tell everyone about his fucked-up family, and she hadn’t. Buffy Summers, the one thorn in his side who just wouldn’t go away, had kept her mouth closed about his parents.
That alone was enough for him to rethink the ‘Buffy-is-a-bitch’ theory.
But still, he didn’t want to talk to her, or even look at her, at the Bronze. Stupid chit and her sodding resolve face, he thought with a scowl as he drove towards the Bronze.
He parked in an alley a few blocks away and got out of the car, tossing on his duster—California nights could get damned cold.
His footsteps echoed in the near-empty streets as he strode towards the club, mind on who he might find to help him get his mind off a certain blonde cheerleader. There was a girl he’d seen there the other night—what was her name? Sheila, that was it...bit dumb, but God knew he seemed to like the dumb ones. Irritation coursed through him—there he went again, going right on back to Buffy. He walked a bit faster. Bugger, he’d parked farther out than he’d thought...
He rounded the corner nearest the club and crashed right into someone.
They let out an “Ooomph!” and went careening backwards. Out of reflex, Spike grabbed the person...only to find that it was a she, and that she, whoever she was, had a damn nice body. He wrapped his arms around her under the pretense of helping her right herself. Mm...warm curves, nice breasts...
“God! Could you get any more clumsy?”
He jumped back like he’d been burnt. “Bloody hell,” he groaned. “I just can’t get away from you, can I?”
Harmony glared at him. “That is so you, like almost mowing me over and then accusing me! Why can’t you be more sensitive, Spikey? You’re like the worst boyfriend ever!”
“Don’t see how you could know,” he shot back, “Seeing as how ‘ve never gone out with you.”
“Spikey...” Harmony sighed. “This is another one of your issues that we totally need to talk about. You never want to talk about your real feelings.”
“Harm, how many times’re we gonna have to go over this? ‘m not your—“
“See, there you go again!” Harmony pointed an accusing finger at him. “You’re like completely denying the truth—“
“That’s because it’s not the truth!”
“Oh, come on, Spikey,” a new voice said. “You know you’re like totally in love with her.”
Buffy materialized out of the darkness. She wore a smug grin and clothes that clung to her curves, leaving very little to the imagination. Bugger—Spike didn’t know whether to throttle the chit or press her up against the wall and ravish her.
Buffy nodded to Harmony. “Hey, Harm.”
The other blonde eyed Buffy coldly. “Oh look, it’s Gutter Girl,” she said snidely.
“Huh?”
“Oh, please,” Harmony said, rolling her eyes. “Only like a total ho would wear that outfit!”
Buffy stared at her former friend with wide eyes that, though Spike saw mostly anger, were also hurt. “Harmony, I—“
“Save it,” Harmony advised. “Everybody knows that you’re like so totally out. And when you start hanging around Willow Rosenberg...” Harmony raked her eyes up and down Buffy’s form. “Well, let’s just say—Cordy would probably talk to a whore first.” And with that, Harmony smirked, ran a finger across Spike’s chest too quickly for him to push her away, and went inside.
Spike watched her enter, a sneer on his face. Stupid sodding bint barely even held a candle to that Cordelia bitch, much less...he turned to Buffy.
She was staring into space, clutching her purse. Her nostrils were flaring and the dim lighting made the tears in her eyes glimmer. Despite the fact that three-quarters of the time he wanted to wring her neck, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Losing her mates like that had to be rough.
So when she wiped the tears away angrily and looked at him like she expected him to attack her, he didn’t. Instead he just said, “’s gonna be okay, you know.”
“How?” Barely a whisper.
His brow furrowed. “Well,” he began, frantically trying to think of things, “You’ll make more friends. Red likes you—God knows why—an’—“
“No,” she interrupted. “I mean—how can she just go all catty on me? I thought...I mean...”
Spike didn’t know what to do. Not once in his life had he ever had to deal with whatever she was dealin’ with now. “Dunno, pet,” he said, shrugging. “Hell, I barely understand half of what comes out ‘f that bint’s mouth. What’d she mean, you’re out?”
Her mouth twisted in a sardonic half-smile; Spike decided to consider that progress. “Out of the group. You know—Cordy, Parker, Harmony, Veruca...Angel...” Her face twisted again.
“Oh, for God’s sake, don’t go crying over that ponce,” Spike said, irritated—over what he wasn’t sure. “He’s a complete nancy, not even worth your tears.”
She froze and raised her head to stare at him, so quickly that Spike didn’t have a chance to look away. Instead, he just stared steadily at her. Let her read what she would in his eyes. God knew he sure as hell didn’t know what he was feeling.
After a moment Buffy smiled at him. “Tha—“
“Summer, ‘f you thank me, I’ll knock your soddin’ block off,” Spike interrupted. What was wrong with him? Comforting the biggest thorn in his side—he was going insane.
She nodded. “Right. Gotcha. No thanking.” Another awkward silence.
If someone didn’t talk, Spike was going to lose it completely. “S’pose we should go in, then?”
Buffy latched onto that suggestion immediately. “Yeah! I—I mean, uh-huh, that would be—good,” she stuttered, and practically ran for the door.
Only problem was, so did Spike. Her little body collided with his—and she made it worse by wiggling to get into the doorway. Spike’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head by the time she was through. “You know, you could warn a fellow before you—“ He paused. She was walking through the club as quickly as possible, little ass swaying, skirt riding up with each step.
And then it happened. Just like in the lunchroom, only instead of a twitch, it was more like a jump. A high jump.
“Oh, God,” he muttered, following her into the club. “Here we bloody go again.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
A/N: Reviews!!! Yay!!!!! I feel so loved =) lol kidding but really thank you!!! Oh and I’m gonna say it again: please please please visit/post at Beyond Twilight! Address is www.captivesouls.com/Beyond_Twilight. I keep adding that, but only cuz more archives=more BtVS fans=more Spuffy converts=much goodness =) WOW...I think the Geometry final is starting to get to me...thanks again for the reviews (!!!!) and enjoy!