“What are you doing here?” Buffy inquired as she stood in the middle of the dance floor, panting a little from exertion. Spike stood across the room dressed in a grey suit and tie with a maroon shirt. To her surprise, she found maroon looked quite good on him and made him look rather sexy. She shooed that thought out of her mind.
“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” asked Spike, ignoring her question completely as he pointed at Lorne. Buffy looked between the two men unable to find any words. Seeing Spike show up at her rehearsal took the wind out of her sail for a moment, and she suddenly found it hard to compose an English sentence. Finally after a few deep breaths she spoke.
“Um...Spike, this is my dance partner Lorne. Lorne this is Spike Giles.” Buffy tried not to flinch as she noticed Spike’s jaw clench. Was he mad? Well you did leave without a word this morning.
Spike leaned across and shook Lorne’s hand. Lorne just smiled before turning back to Buffy. Buffy could practically feel waves of testosterone Spike was projecting off him. There was silence for a minute as Spike peered at both Buffy and Lorne with amusement evident in his eyes. His hands were in his pockets though his arms pulled back the lapels of his suit jacket. She tried not to gasp as she glimpsed a gun peeking out of Spike’s jacket resting in its body holster.
Buffy felt the room became hotter as she swallowed involuntarily, trying not to look back at the weapon he was carrying with him.
“I’ll be out on the stage seeing how the chorus is doing, okay La Petit?” Lorne said, sensing a feeling from Spike that he wanted to talk to Buffy. Alone.
After the door was shut and Lorne was gone from the room Buffy turned away from Spike and tried to discreetly calm herself down. What the hell was he carrying a gun for? She kept asking herself. The blonde dancer could feel his eyes boring into the back of her head, watching her. Buffy was tired. Tired of being scared of Spike this whole week.
Turning around abruptly, she stared at him with angry eyes. “So what are you doing here?” Buffy asked, repeating her unanswered question from before.
Spike began to walk around the dance room looking up at the high built windows, the well cleaned mirrored wall. Buffy watched him wondering when he was going to speak. “You and that Lorne fellow look pretty close,” he said with his voice low, but sensual. It sent shivers up her spine.
She stood there confused wondering where he was getting at. “Well I’ve known him since I was 17 Spike. People get closer after that long.”
“Is he seeing anyone?” Spike asked.
Buffy stared at Spike confused as to why he was asking about Lorne’s relationship status. “No but I do think he’ll get with this one guy he met at the grocery store yesterday. Unless, you’re willing to date him.” She gave Spike a smirk, crossing her arms over her chest as she finally realized what Spike was asking about.
Spike stopped moving and looked at her in the mirror. “What?”
Buffy nearly burst out laughing but settled on giggling. She clutched her stomach to steady her body. He stared at her, more confused than ever.
“Spike, are you jealous of Lorne?” Her voice was filled with mirth. Buffy was still trying to believe it herself that Spike was jealous of her dance partner.
He looked at her and she could tell he was trying to act like he wasn’t. Spike looked around at anything but her, trying to avoid her gaze.
“Should I be, love?” He finally asked, looking at her and raising an eyebrow.
Buffy stood there speechless and close to laughing. Oh God, would he ever get it? “Lorne is gay!” she blurted out, breaking into a hysterical laugh to the point she had to clutch her stomach. Spike watched her, torn between disbelief and the need to kick himself. Plus, the way Buffy was laughing was adorable. She sputtered and gasped with uncontrollable mirth, still laughing. “You were jealous of Lorne?”
Feeling his ego getting bruised as she continued to stand there laughing at him, all Spike could do was stare back at her while trying to not laugh with her at the same time.
He felt like a right ponce for jumping to conclusions. Just because they were close didn’t mean there was anything intimate. Finding her lost in her partner’s embrace was simply a sign of a good dancer, they needed to appear as if they were dancing with their partner, believable and fluid. Spike began to try to control his own hysterics that was threatening to bubble up and he smiled as he watched her. Her own smile was wide, her eyes twinkling with amusement at the thought of him being jealous of a gay man. Spike forgot about the fact that she was laughing at his idiocy and enjoyed the fact of how beautiful she looked at this very moment. Never had he really seen her truly smile in his presence as she was now. It took a lot of restraint to take her into his arms now and kiss her senseless.
A minute passed and both of them had fully regained their composures. She straightened out her dance skirt trying not to fidget too much at the sudden uncomfortable silence. “Look pet, I’m sorry for acting like a jerk to your partner. It’s just when a man has a woman like you, he would be jealous at the thought of another man touching his woman.”
She tried to ignore the fact that during the whole apology, Spike kept referring to Buffy as his as if she were just a thing, a property to him. All she did was nod before moving around him towards her bag.
“It’s okay.” Her response was short and emotionless, not going unnoticed by Spike.
“Another thing too, kitten.” Buffy stopped pulling off her dance shoes and looked at him, waiting. “What happened last night...between us. You have to understand that, I am sorry. I never meant to raise my hand to you. I would never want to raise my hand to you.”
Spike watched as she stared at the ground avoiding his gaze. He strode over to her, grasping her cheek gently in his hand, pulling her to look up at him. “You have to believe me when I say I am sorry pet. Please, believe me.” He rested his forehead against hers, surprised that she didn’t push him away. Buffy’s hands came up to grasp his shoulders, and they stayed that way for a while. Then, he felt her body began to shake. “Kitten, what’s wrong? Are you cold?” Without another word, he pulled off his suit jacket and rested it on her shoulders. The ends came down to her thighs, the jacket swallowing her but she looked completely adorable.
“I’m scared,” she croaked out in a soft whisper. Spike didn’t even hear her.
“What?”
“I’m scared,” she said a little louder. She spoke before Spike could open his mouth. “Things you do, how you act, it all scares me. I’m not used to your type of behavior. Talking about business around me. My father didn’t speak a word in front of me, my mother, and my sister. It terrifies me and kind of disgusts me when you plan a person’s death in front of me, and then act as if it doesn’t matter.”
Spike took in all that she said. “I see. But, Buffy you have to understand, I am running not only a family but a big, important business.”
Buffy looked up at him incredulously, and began to pull herself away from him. “You think I don’t know that Spike?” God how many times did she have to go through this again? Anger at being disrespected, frustration at not getting her points across began to take a toll on her and she felt something snap inside of her, and began to yell. “I get what it’s about. I myself came from the same type of family. And before you say I should be used to it by now...don’t!” Her hand shot up as if to silence him. As she talked, she pulled her second shoe off forcefully. Her arms waved around emphatically in circles, shoes in hand. “Most of the time I was never around my father especially in my teen years, five years I was away from the stuff he did. I hate it Spike! Every time I remembered, the fact of where my father got his money from, I hated him even more. I hate the fact that he put me in this situation. You heard me say it before and you will hear me saying it repeatedly until you start changing how you act around me. I do not want to hear another murder plan. I hear one more and you can say good-bye to your alliance with my father because I am not going to care anymore. I will try to adjust to other things but this one; I am not going to budge on. You got it?” Buffy didn’t know how she managed to escalate her speech into placing her demands of what she wanted from Spike. They had just come out and she wasn’t even scared of how he might react. Not anymore. She was sick of being scared. So sick. And God, so tired too.
She waited for his response, standing there with her dance shoes in her hand, clutched to her chest as she watched him. Waiting for an explosion. A tirade. Another round of yelling. When he turned his head to the side to look at her through his peripherals, the same way he had looked at her yesterday after she had slapped him, she held her breath and knew what she was in for. To her surprise and relief, it never came. He just stared at her and when a smirk broke out on his lips and humor became evident to her in his eyes, she finally released her breath.
“Pet, I understand. I won’t make the promise because I might slip up but you have my word that I will not purposefully discuss that kind of business in front of you again.” Buffy searched his eyes and she could see that he was telling her the truth. She let herself give him a small smile. “So, am I forgiven?”
Buffy nodded as she turned back to her bag to place her things away. “I forgive you Spike.” She heard Spike’s sigh of relief and before she could place her shoes all the way into the bag, Spike pulled her by her arm, turning her around and pulled her tight against his chest. She looked up at him, blushing.
As Spike reached out to caress her cheek, she shivered and stopped herself from moaning at the sensual feel of his hand. It just felt so good. When she didn’t stop him, Spike leaned forward bringing his lips to meet with hers in a soft gentle kiss. It was much gentler than their previous ones. His grasp on her body was soft, running under his coat over her and down her luscious sides that were covered in a black leotard, which felt practically like skin.
As Spike kissed her, something began to rise up inside Buffy, like butterflies. All that he had put her through the day before just seemed to slip away without a care. When Buffy began to really kiss him back, Spike groaned into her lips, his desire for her intensifying. Her lips were so soft. One hand came up to trace the column of her neck. Everywhere he touched, she felt her skin burn with fire and small shocks of pleasure run down to her center. His touch was like a drug. She pulled him closer to her, to feel more of him, to stay in contact. Buffy’s tongue ran along his lower lips, inviting him to do the same.
They stood together wrapped up in a kiss that was getting heavier as time passed. At the sound of something crashing downstairs they broke apart, realizing where they were and that one of the dancers could walk in at anytime. Buffy stood back but remained in Spike’s arms.
“I have a present for you, back at the house,” Spike murmured, tracing his finger from her forehead down her nose to run across her lips.
“A present?” Buffy asked, her lips forming into a smile. He could see her eyes begin to sparkle.
“As another way to get you to forgive me.”
Buffy looked at him confused. “Spike I said I forgive you. I mean it’s partly my fault. I hit you first.”
“Though I’m the one who called you a stubborn bint,” Spike told her.
She pulled away gently to zip up her bag. “What does bint mean?”
“Another word for a chick. Sometimes it’s considered negatively.” The bleached blonde waved his hand in the air. “Now are you free to come back?”
Buffy nodded and picked up her bag but Spike took it for her, pulling the strap onto his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her to walk beside him. She didn’t protest, but just let him lead her out of the room. “Spike, you didn’t have to get me a gift, its okay if you return it.”
“I think I can’t return this gift. It would be kind of hard.” Spike didn’t say another word even when Buffy gave him a confused stare.
She let him lead her down the stairs and into the theater where she told Lorne that she was leaving for the day. When they reached the parking lot John was standing next to the limousine. He opened the door for the two blondes. Spike allowed Buffy to get in before he got in himself at the back of the limo, pulling her closer to sit and rest against his own body. Buffy sat rigidly at first, unsure of what was going on between them.
The drive was made in silence. She was confused. Never had they been this...close before. Except for the time on the balcony at Chaos, but that was a rather sketchy time. And sure, they’d just kissed, but somehow cuddling up to someone seemed more personal and intimate. She sat stock still and rigid, not daring to make a move towards him, even though she wanted to. During the time she’d gotten to know him, she knew that although Spike can be headstrong, possessive and tended to tick her off, it was also undeniable that being touched, held and kissed by him felt wonderful. It was as if they fit each other, and felt so right, even if the circumstances they were brought together weren’t.
Sensing that she was feeling edgy and uncomfortable, Spike ran his fingers through her blonde tresses, relaxing her. Buffy loved it when someone ran their hands through her hair, and before long, she was resting her head against his shoulder with her hand on his chest. Spike tried to calm himself down at the sight of her, cozily huddled against him so closely. He fought for any remaining self-restraint and clenched his jaw, trying to douse his uncontrollable arousal for her. Didn’t want to scare her after just getting them on a good foot again. He tried to think of unpleasant things to will away his hard on.
Naked Grandma.
Naked Xander in a tutu.
Naked Buffy in a tutu.
God help me.
“Come back to bed, my sweet.” The flaunting blonde said from the bed, the sheet barely covering her beautiful body. Her man stood next to the bed in all his naked glory, the tattoo on his back rippling as he flexed his muscles, stretching his aching body from all the ‘nasties’ she and him had performed since they had woken up that morning. “Angelus...” Darla spoke his name when he didn’t answer.
The large man looked back at her, his angelic like mask staring at her. When he gave her a wicked leer, she smiled back at him just as devilishly.
“I’m sorry my Darla sweet, but work is calling,” Angelus said with a hint of Irish accent. He reached out to grab his pants that were thrown on the chair next to her vanity desk. “Are we getting ourselves a girl for tonight’s fun?” he asked after covering his lower half. He leaned over where was she lying on the bed, hovering above her by planting both hands at each side of her head. Darla looked back at him with a coy smile on her face.
“Yes, we’ll go to Midnights and pick ourselves up a little innocent.” She moaned when he pulled on her hair making her arch further into the pillow. A sadistic gleam shone in his eyes and her smile became wider as Angelus’ large hands crawled down her body, dipping under the sheet. He always loved it, always got turned on when he hurt her in bed.
A knock ended their little moment, leaving Angelus to practically growl out in annoyance.
“COME IN!” He barked, getting up from the bed and tossing Darla her robe.
In walked one of Angelus’ men, making sure not to stare at the bed where Darla still rested, still naked and too lazy to pull on the robe.
“We got word boss that Giles and Summers teamed up. Things must of gotten out that our and Finn’s gang partnered up.”
Darla watched as Angelus threw something of hers, something made out of delicate glass, across the room to have it shatter into a million pieces on impact. She rolled her eyes and waited till both Angelus and his lackey left her room without a word of goodbye her way. Angelus could be so melodramatic sometimes.
The blonde huffed as she heard Angelus exchange some words with his lackey. “Was anything traded?” She heard the lackey give a muffled yes. “Find out what and then get back to me.”
Finally getting up after she could hear nothing further, Darla slipped into her robe and walked into the adjoining bathroom of her room.
For three years, she had been Angelus O’Connor’s mistress, really one of his many whores, though she couldn’t complain since at least she was at the top of the list of his many whores. Which meant she was no longer given to his men for their own fun. She was allowed to leave the house and got a much nicer room compared to a seven by ten foot room with just a bed and a pair of handcuffs hanging from the bedpost like some of the lower ranked girls lived in.
However, there was something else Darla held for Angelus. She held love for him. God knew why after what he had done to her during most of her first year at his estate on the nights he had visited her. For a whole week after she had been pulled into the world of mafia business she was the only one he visited. He broke her, a phrase he kept referring to. Raped her, sometimes tortured her but in the end Darla still fell in love with him. She would never get to marry this man, she knew that and continued to live as his whore. The blonde had learned to like his sadistic interests in the bedroom, always complying with what he asked for while in turn she was given a very luscious lifestyle.
Looking in the mirror, she saw the glamorous woman looking back at her, her skin glowing and hair shiny. Darla tried to remember. Remember what her life was like before she had been kidnapped and brought to the O’Connor estate.
Buffy walked up to her room, choosing to take the stairs since Spike said he’d meet her up there after he was finished talking with Wesley, but advised her not to go into her room until he got there. He still had her bag so it made it much easier as she climbed the steps.
The events of this morning replayed in her head as she climbed. Remembering that Spike had been jealous of Lorne made her smile, thinking of how she couldn’t wait to tell Willow that. Remembering about Willow, she made a mental note to speak with Spike about seeing her friends. As she got to the last landing on the fourth floor, she let out a sigh. Buffy hoped that things would stay good and calm between them for a while.
When she got to her door, the elevator doors opened and Spike walked out, smirking as he saw her reaching her bedroom.
“Are you ready pet?”
“Yes. You’ve got me wondering what the hell this gift is ever since you mentioned it.” Spike reached over and opened the door for her, letting her walk in first. Buffy stepped in and came to stand next to her bed, looking at a small box that didn’t have a top, adorned with a small blanket at the bottom. Buffy kicked off her shoes as she stared at the box, eyebrows raised. “Um, Spike. Thank you....I’ve always wanted a box.” She picked it up and turned around to look at Spike. “Now I can see why you can’t return it.”
“What?” Spike yelled, walking over to her and inspected the empty box, pulling out the blanket. “Oh bugger. The thing was in the box when I left it here before I came to the theater.”
He looked around the room and Buffy just continued to stare at him. “What was-“ She was cut off when a loud bark came from her closet followed by what sounded like her shoe boxes falling over. “What the hell?” She dropped the box and quickly walked into her closet. She stopped when she saw the most precious thing sitting on the ground, shoeboxes surrounding it. “Oh my goodness aren’t you so precious.”
She bent down and a black lap puppy came bounding up to her, its tail wagging and licking at her toes, fingers, trying to get her scent. Buffy picked up the wiggling puppy into her arms.
“Well I believe you found your present, love.” Spike observed as he came to stand behind her, looking at the puppy from over her shoulder.
“This precious puppy is mine?” she asked. The puppy leaned up to lick her face, as if thanking her for calling it precious.
Spike snorted. “If you call that little bloody bastard precious. The thing nearly bit my hand off this morning.” Buffy looked up at him in horror, shocked he’d called the puppy a ‘bloody bastard’. “Spike!” she admonished, moving to sit on the bed, placing the pup on the pillows. “He just needs to get used to you, that’s all.”
“Well the thing seems to like you. Got it after I had my little chat with Gunn. Was out driving last night when I saw a man selling a whole littler of them.” Spike smiled and watched as the puppy and Buffy got to know each other. He was licking her hand and she was scratching and petting it behind the ears. Spike was delighted, loving the fact that he was the cause of her smiling for once. He bent down and kissed her gently on the top of the head. “What are you going to name him, pet?”
Buffy looked up at Spike with a smile. “Name him?”
“Yeah the thing needs a name. I say little biting bastard but I think that would be a little too long.”
“He’s not a bastard he’s cute,” Buffy scolded. They watched as the puppy sat back on its butt and yawned. “What shall we name you little guy?”
The moment the puppy leaned its head to the side and gave Buffy a curious look, Buffy knew the perfect name. The way he was looking at her with its head cocked to the side reminded Buffy the little head tilt Spike always did. The puppy was all black, a color William Giles looked good in. Looking back up at Spike, she gave him a coy smile. “I say we name him Spike.” Her voice held glee.
“Bloody hell!”
A/N: Well Buffy has finally not been bad at Spike by the end of the chapter and hell they practically cuddled. I think they're making a step up. But for how long? Please Review!
Spuffy_obsessed