Spike glanced down at Buffy, who was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet painting her toenails a cotton candy-shade of pink, and gave her a curious tilt of his head. "Where'd that question come from?"
She shrugged, promptly smearing the last brush stroke across her toe instead of its intended location. "Darn it! I suck at this," she said with a pout.
He couldn't help but grin. She was incredibly cute when she got all frustrated like this.
Tightening his towel securely around his waist, he moved over to the edge of the bathtub and sat down, grabbing her foot and setting the delicate appendage on his lap. He motioned for the little bottle of lacquer, placing it on the ledge next to him after she'd handed it over.
"I don't know why you decided t' do this now anyway. We have t' leave in an hour," he told her as he moved the brush over the smooth nail of her big toe.
She huffed a little, her lower lip poking out into a pout. "The shoes I picked out are open-toed and my feet looked all icky."
Arching a dark eyebrow, he glanced at her then back down at the tiny foot perched on his thigh. "Nothin' about you is icky, luv. Your feet are no exception."
"Maybe you're just not looking hard enough."
Oh, she really had no idea what she was getting herself into with this.
"Trust me, I've looked. There's not an inch on your body that I haven't seen, kitten. A few places I might want t' explore a lil' more, yeah, but I've seen it all. Make no mistake about that," he told her with a lustful leer.
Truth of it was, Spike had been pretty obsessed with the female form even before Buffy and now that it was her form that he was privileged to see every morning, noon and night, he was going mad with fascination. From the silky strands of her hair right down to the tiny toenails he was currently painting, it was perfection in his mind. Couldn't get much closer to heaven on earth than touching her, tasting her, loving her.
His heart skipped a beat at that last thought. He was certainly no expert on love, but he was pretty sure that what he was feeling was completely bug-shagging, crazy in love. There was no other explanation for it.
For over a month now, he had been trying to convince himself that it wasn't love. After all, love was a dirty word to him. The definition of it had become twisted and tangled in the face of his father's abuse and his mother's acceptance. To admit that he was in love with Buffy opened too many doors to the uglier side of the emotion.
It all boiled down to fear. Not so much fear for himself, but fear for Buffy. What if he was more like his father than he chose to believe? What if he hurt her? He would rather take a long walk off a short pier than to do anything to harm her, but if he was anything like his father, none of his best intentions would matter.
He must have paused too long in his thoughts because Buffy wiggled her toes at him and said, "What are you thinking about?"
"Somethin' I'd rather not be thinkin' about," he replied with a heavy sigh before returning to the task in front of him.
"Tell me."
His blue eyes shifted up and saw her quietly staring back. She always tried hard not to push for more information than he was willing to offer up, but he could tell she was dying to know. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell her; he just didn't want to dredge up old ghosts.
"Jus' thinkin' 'bout my father."
"Is it 'cause I asked you about England?" she asked, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth.
He blinked dumbly for a second as he tried to recall that particular question. "No, it was..." His voice trailed off when he realized where his statement was going. Now wasn't the time to declare his undying love for her, not in the sodding bathroom.
"It was what?"
Shaking his head, he dipped the brush back into the bottle to coat it with more nail polish. "Doesn't matter why."
Her face fell in disappointment, but she didn't press for more. A part of him appreciated that she didn't nag him about his past and the other part of him felt sick when he thought about why that was. For too long, she had been conditioned to be seen and not heard, to know her place in a life that she had no business being involved in to begin with.
Anger flared within his chest when she began talking about something completely inane, like the weather or an episode of Friends, instead of pressing him for an answer she more than deserved. Her father wasn't even in the same state as her and he was still inflicting his brand of mind control. Fucking Hank Summers.
"I've thought about it," he said interrupting her speech on the latest Ross and Rachel drama.
"Huh?"
He smiled and bit back a chuckle. "England. I've thought about goin' back."
Her eyes widened as hope flared in their foresty depths. "And?"
"Don't know. Lot's o' reasons never t' step back in that soddin' country, but I miss it. Its beautiful there, luv. You'd love it." He watched her smile broaden and suddenly, he wanted to jump on a plane with her right this second and jump across the pond. "Maybe someday, yeah?"
"Really? We could go?"
"I'll take you anywhere you wanna go, Buffy. Jus' name it." His thumb moved from her heel to the elegant arch of her foot, rubbing at the sensitive ribbons of muscle just beneath the translucent skin. A visible shiver ran through body making her foot twitch in his hands.
"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice somewhere between a moan and a teasing tone.
He feigned innocence all the while continuing to massage her foot. "Nothin'. Nothin' at all."
"You," she began shakily. "Are so lying."
There was still so much to teach her. So much she didn't know about being intimate with another person. And she wanted to learn, that much was obvious, even despite her shyness and crazy notions about what was acceptable and what wasn't. If it were up to him, he would spend the remaining years of his life showing her just what it meant to make love to someone and how it could make her feel.
"You started it, luv. All that talk of ickiness an' the like. Gotta show you jus' how wrong you are," he rumbled as his fingers ran over a few choice pressure points.
She moaned and tossed her head back slightly. "What about the party?"
Squeezing his eyes shut, he groaned inwardly. Oh, yes, the sodding party, how could he forget?
Up until twenty minutes ago, he'd been eager to go to Angel's birthday bash at The Blue Temple. He and Buffy deserved a little fun after the past couple of months and since she'd be around familiar people, Spike figured it was as good a time as any to finally show her off. It was also the perfect opportunity to start acclimating her to life without her father's shackles, a life outside the confines of the apartment.
And then he had touched her, which had made him start to seriously reconsider going anywhere besides back to bed.
"You still wanna go?" he asked her, slipping his index finger between her toes.
She nodded her head at the same time she said no and Spike laughed. That's exactly how he was feeling. He wanted to go and he wanted to stay, equally. Although, to be honest, either way he was getting a winning hand as long as he was with her.
"All right. I'll behave an' get the rest of lil' piggies all glittered up so we can go t' Angel's party," he told her as his fingers moved away from the more sensual parts of her foot.
"Mmm," she mumbled. "Maybe we can try it again when we get home."
"You're on, luv."
Buffy smoothed the crimson silk of her dress over her hips as they stopped at the entrance of The Blue Temple. Nervousness bubbled up in her stomach even though she couldn't quite pinpoint why. Maybe it was the long line of people stretched out behind her, scowling at the fact that she and Spike had jumped ahead of them. Maybe it was the prospect of meeting his friends or that they would be meeting her as Spike's girlfriend and not some distant relative. Could be because she was sixteen and about to go into a club in which people under twenty-one weren't allowed.
"You ready, pet?" Spike asked as the bouncer unhooked the VIP rope, allowing them to pass through.
Ready or not, there was really no turning back at this point, was there? She gave him a smile and nodded even as her stomach flip-flopped when he put his hand at the small of her back and gently pushed her in front of him.
They moved quickly through a dark corridor and popped out on the other side of a sparkly blue curtain of beads. The main dance floor was packed with people moving to the techno beat of a song about smacking someone's bitch up as the lights above flashed along with the music. Strings of blue neon pulsed along the walls like a rolling wave, every now and then hitting a large color wash light that sprayed the dance floor in blue and green tiles.
She didn't remember much about her first trip through the club. Fatigue and confusion had made everything a blur. Now that she truly saw it, she was amazed, awed. This was where Spike worked? It looked like an underwater carnival ride!
"I think they've already started. Wanna go up?"
Buffy's gaze snapped away from the dance floor and followed the length of his arm as it pointed to a mid-level balcony covered in sheer blue and white fabric. "Um...okay," she replied softly, trying to rein in the edgy zap running across her skin like lightning in the desert.
Instead of pushing her forward, he grabbed her hand in his and held on tight. They walked towards the spiral stairway and quickly made the ascent to the next level. Just as she was about to slip through the curtain, he tugged on her hand and pulled her back.
"If you feel like you wanna leave, luv, jus' let me know." His hand came up and brushed a loose tendril away from her cheek. "I want you t' have fun tonight, that's all. If you're not havin' fun, we'll leave."
Her anxiousness must have been showing a lot more than she'd thought and she silently chastised herself for not having more control. It wasn't fair to him that he always had to put his life on hold just because she was uneasy or scared. She was so tired of being a burden to him.
"I'll be okay, Spike," she replied, giving the biggest smile she could muster.
His eyes narrowed on her and she felt like he could see right through her. "I mean it, Buffy. None of that 'I'll stick it out' crap."
She nodded. "I will."
It had taken her almost an hour to finally relax and Spike realized just how nervous she had been. Of course, she hadn't once asked to leave, but that didn't surprise him much. She was always putting on the brave face, trying hard not to appear weak or frightened. The girl had so much more strength than she thought.
He wished he could have that kind of strength. Oh, sure, he was excellent at running his mouth off and acting like the big bad wolf, but really that was just stupidity most of the time. When his temper got the best of him, that's when his stupidity really showed. Jumping into the fire without giving much thought to how it was going to burn him and only caring about his gut reaction. That wasn't strength.
If he had that, he'd be able to tell her how he really felt.
Instead, he kept his mouth shut, afraid of what she might think even though he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she wanted him to love her. It was fear. In the end, there was only fear. He didn't want to hurt her, but he worried that he might. Love made people do crazy things after all.
Taking a long drink from his glass of bourbon, he noticed Xander staring at him from across the room. He set the glass on the table and quirked an eyebrow at Xander. What was his bloody problem?
Xander gave a short nod towards the door, motioning with his eyes that he wanted Spike to follow him, before excusing himself from the group of people he was standing with. Reluctantly, Spike trudged off after him, snaking his way through the throng of people on the dance floor to meet Xander at the bar.
"Can I get another Heineken?" Xander called out to the bartender, who Spike realized belatedly was Gunn.
Spike rolled his eyes. "Do you need me t' go t' the loo with you too?"
"Shut up, Spike," Xander retorted. "I wanted to ask you about something, but I didn't want to do it up there."
"What's that then?"
A bottle of beer appeared in front of Xander and money exchanged hands. Gunn gave a quick two-fingered wave before rushing off to help another customer. The bar was slammed tonight and without Spike and Angel working, they were very short-handed. For a moment, Spike had even contemplated jumping back there and helping out, but he had gotten the night off for a reason and it wasn't to pour. Besides, the bartenders on duty would be well compensated in tips for all of their hard work.
"So..." Xander took a long swig of his beer and gave Spike a smile. "You and Buffy."
"That's not a question," Spike replied dryly.
Xander didn't look amused. "You know what I meant."
"Yeah, I know, but I don't see how it's any o' your business."
He'd never been the kind of bloke to kiss and tell. His reputation had been built purely on speculation and women who couldn't keep their bloody mouths shut. It was nobody's business what he did behind closed doors and he intended on keeping it that way.
"I'm not fishing for details, Spike. I just want to- Fuck, I don't know. Make sure you knew what you were doing?" Xander folded his arms over his broad chest and stared at the peroxide blonde Brit.
Spike's eyebrows came together, partly in confusion and partly in anger. "Wasn't too long ago you were surprised nothin' had happened an' now you suddenly start worryin' that somethin' has?"
"Wasn't too long ago that you were still trying to protect Buffy from your big bad self either!" Xander shouted, poking a finger into Spike's shoulder. "Look, you're my friend and Buffy is too. I'm just making sure that-"
"I'm not hurtin' her, right? What the soddin' hell is it with people thinkin' I'm takin' advantage o' her?"
"That's not what I was going to say. I know you, Spike. Hurting her is the last thing you want to do," Xander said.
"Then what?"
"Is it more than just a fling to you? I hope so because that girl up there loves you and she's not gonna understand it if you suddenly decide you don't want that kind of responsibility."
Spike frowned. Is that really what he thought? Is that what everyone thought? That this was some sort of game to him? That he'd really toss Buffy aside when things got too heavy?
His throat closed up a little and he choked on the air he was trying to breathe in. "It's not a fling. God, I... I'm in love with her."
Bloody hell...he'd just said that out loud, hadn't he?
Buffy hadn't seen Spike leave, but when she finally noticed he was gone, she felt herself panic a little. Where had he gone and why hadn't he said anything?
All right, just calm down, Buffy. He probably went to the bathroom or something, that's all, she told herself.
"You okay, Buffy?" a voice asked from behind her.
Turning, she saw Angel standing there, a concerned expression on his face. "Oh, I'm fine," she told him, trying to sound carefree, which she had failed miserably at.
"You want me to go get Spike? I think he and Xander went down to the bar," Angel offered and immediately, Buffy relaxed.
See, nothing to worry about, silly.
"No, it's okay. I just..." Her voice trailed off as she gestured wildly, hoping Angel didn't ask any more questions.
He gave her a flummoxed look. "Uh, okay." Suddenly, his face brightened, a grin appearing on his handsome face. "Hey! You wanna go dance?"
"Well, I don't know... Maybe I should-"
"C'mon, Buff, you got to have at least one dance with me. It's my birthday, you know."
She wasn't sure why she was hesitating. After all, it was only Angel. Spike would be okay with her dancing with Angel, right? And Angel did have a point, it was his birthday and they were all there to have a good time.
Shrugging, she returned his smile. "Sure, why not?"
Angel set his drink on a nearby table and offered his arm to her. After looping her arm in his, he led her down the staircase and onto the dance floor where a fast dance beat was pounding out of the speakers.
He startled her by grabbing her hand and spinning her around, but once she regained her footing, she giggled. Laughing at her expression, Angel began dancing along with the music and Buffy quickly followed his lead.
This was actually pretty fun. She hadn't ever really had the opportunity to dance like this before, with other people and in public, no less. Sure, she'd danced within the confines of her own room and had been known to strike a pose at Spike's apartment, but that was usually when she was all alone with nothing but the music to keep her company. Now, she knew what she'd been missing at all of those school dances and parties that she hadn't been allowed to go to.
Angel spun her around again and this time she was ready for it. As soon as she made the full three-sixty back to him, she didn't miss a beat, jumping and doing a little shimmy.
She probably looked like a complete dork, but at least she was in good company. Angel's idea of dancing were a set of jerky movements interspersed with outdated fads like the 'Running Man' all the while continuing to grin like the doofus he was. Of course, he might have only been doing his lame dance moves to make her feel less self-conscious.
As she watched Angel do the 'Hustle', Buffy wondered about Spike. How did he dance? Did he even dance at all? Once she saw him again, she decided she would ask if he wanted to dance. Maybe to something slow, if The Blue Temple played anything slow, that is.
While she was pondering Spike's dancing skills, she didn't notice that Angel had abruptly stopped moving and was now staring at something behind her. "Buffy, come here!" he shouted over the music, motioning her with his hand.
"What's wrong?"
Angel gave her a miserable frown before shaking his head. "I'm about to cause a whole lot of trouble."
"Why?" she asked, slowly turning to see what he was looking at.
Oh.
A huge, hulking man was trying to push past the crowd and he was glaring daggers at Angel every step of the way. Maybe six foot four with arms the size of truck tires, he looked like a charging bull that had just seen red.
Grabbing her hand, Angel started pulling her off the dance floor. "I gotta get you out of here," he said, his eyes darting side to side as if he was looking for something.
"That guy looks pissed. What the heck did you do to him, Angel?"
Angel glanced at her, giving her a sheepish half-smile. "I might have slept with his girlfriend."
"You what!" Buffy exclaimed before punching him in the arm.
"Ow, you hit hard," he replied, momentarily letting go over her hand to rub at his bicep. "It's not like I knew she was his girlfriend! I found out afterwards...when he came home and chased me out of the house with a meat cleaver."
"I-"
Without warning, Angel was pulled backwards, taking Buffy down with him and they both hit the floor with a loud smack. Glancing up, she saw the Bull Man snarling down at them and she yelled when he reached down and clamped his meaty hand around Angel's throat.
"Put him down!" Buffy shouted, pushing herself up and trying to grab at the Bull Man's arm.
Angel's feet were kicking frantically as he tried to seek purchase on the floor five inches below him. "Buffy, get out of here!" he rasped out.
Buffy ignored Angel as she continued to loosen the Bull Man's grasp, pulling and shaking at the length of solid muscle holding Angel up. "Leave him alone! Stop, you're hurting him!"
All she was doing was annoying the giant man and he quickly got tired of her weak attempts. With his free hand, he shoved her and Buffy went sliding on the slick floor, stopping a few feet away. Her hip burned in pain and for a few moments, all she could do was whimper on the floor.
Crying isn't going to help Angel. Get up!
It took every ounce of strength she had, but she did eventually will her body off the floor. She limped back over to the two men, her legs protesting and her nerves screaming. "Let. Him. Go!" she forced out of her burning lungs.
The Bull Man smirked at her then looked at Angel, who was quickly turning an ugly shade of purple. "She doesn't quit, does she?" he sniggered, shaking Angel a little in the process. Then his mean smile disappeared and he was raising his fist, directing in towards her.
Oh my God! I'm gonna-
There was a loud smack and Buffy's eyes popped open.
"You really don't wanna be doin' that, mate."
Spike had the Bull Man's fist in his palm, halting the violent punch from striking her. In a blur, Spike threw the fist backwards and slammed his own into the giant's jaw. Angel fell to the floor, gasping and clutching his throat.
One of the spotlights from above chose right then to shine on Spike's lean figure, his cold glare visible for all to see. His muscles were tense as he stared the Bull Man down, not giving an inch as the man started towards him.
"Ain't none of your business. This is between me and this fuckwad right here," the giant snarled, pointing at Angel's battered form.
Spike's smile began slowly and then turned into a malicious sneer. "See, that's where you're wrong. This here's one o' my best mates an' where there's one, there's the other. We come in pairs, you know."
"He fucked my girlfriend!"
"Oh." His eyebrows rose as if he was surprised. "Well, in that case, have at 'im, mate."
The Bull Man grinned and made a move for Angel again. Buffy looked up at Spike is shock. He wasn't really going to leave Angel to get killed, was he?
Spike stopped, his finger pointed up in the air as he spun on his heel. "There might be one problem though."
"Oh, yeah?" the giant said, his fists already filled with the dark blue fabric of Angel's shirt. "What's that?"
"You touched my girl," Spike told him, his ice blue gaze darting to Buffy. "Now, it really is my business."
The Bull Man didn't look very intimidated by Spike's announcement. He shoved Angel away and stomped over to Spike, leaning in so they were nose to nose. "Maybe if she'd kept her nose out of it, I wouldn't have. Maybe you should learn to keep your bitch in line."
Spike's angry gaze turned deadly, his nostrils flaring as he stepped even closer to the giant. "Maybe you shouldn't push my buttons."
Buffy screamed as the larger man shot his fist out, but Spike was much quicker as he ducked out of the way and punched the guy low in the gut. The Bull Man grunted in pain and went after Spike again, his arms raised with the intention of pounding his opponent into the ground like a fence post. Spike snapped his knee up, slamming into the man's groin, then bounced back as the giant fell backwards holding the flesh at the apex of his thighs.
By the time the Bull Man moved to get up, security was already reaching for him. He shouted at Angel and Spike, promising that he would get them someday, as the bouncers dragged him off the dance floor.
"You all right then?" Spike asked Angel, offering his hand to help his friend off the floor.
"Feel like I've just swallowed a coffee can full of nails, but otherwise..." Angel shrugged and started back up to the VIP room, slowly, very slowly.
Spike stood with his back to her for what felt like hours, the muscles beneath his shirt twitching furiously. When he finally did turn around, Buffy didn't know what to make of his expression.
"Spike, I-"
He grabbed her arm sharply and pulled her behind him as he stalked off the dance floor and through a door that stated 'Employees Only'. They moved quickly down a dark hallway and stopped at a door at the end where Spike pushed her inside.
"Spike, I'm-"
"Stop." Spike slammed the door and rushed across the room where she was standing. He grabbed her shoulders, keeping her still as he looked her over. "What the bloody hell were you thinkin', Buffy!"
"I-"
"What if I hadn't been there? Huh? What then?"
Normally, this would be the point where she broke down and started crying, but all she was really feeling was anger. "What was I supposed to do, Spike? Just let that guy beat Angel up? I couldn't do that."
His jaw tensed for a second, but then his whole body relaxed and he cupped her cheek in his palm. "You could have gotten hurt, luv. I don't know what I would've done if you..."
Buffy could swear she saw his eyes water up, but she brushed the thought aside. It was probably just the light.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't just leave him," she replied.
Spike nodded slightly. "I know. I would have done the same thing."
"Yeah, but you kicked that guy's butt. I just yelled at him." She gave him a tentative smile.
"He got off lucky."
"Where did you learn to fight like that? He was so much bigger than you were."
Spike chuckled at that, running a hand through his curls. "There's no such thing as a fair fight, luv. I jus' use whatever I need t' to knock the bastard down. Learned most o' it when I was still a bar back here. We were the back-up, filled in where were needed."
"Do you ever get scared?"
His smile faded. "I got scared tonight. The minute I realized it was you out there."
"God, Spike, I'm-"
And for the millionth time that night, he cut her off, only this time, it was with a kiss.
His tongue darted out to trace her soft, plump lip before slipping inside her mouth and tasting her.
She moaned and he slipped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest and holding her in a solid embrace. There were days he felt like she would just slip away and this was one of them. It only made him hold onto her tighter.
"Buffy," he whispered, his lips trailing across her cheek towards her ear. "Gotta promise me somethin', kitten. You ever get into a situation like this again, you run. I don't care who you're with, run."
"Spike, I can't prom-"
He stepped back so quickly that a wave of dizziness washed over him. "You have to. If anythin' ever happened t' you, I'd..."
She looked up at him with her huge hazel eyes and he was lost. He couldn't live without this beautiful creature at his side, waking up to her sweet smell in the morning, seeing her brilliant smile when she looked at him, listening to her laugh that sounded like a chorus of bells. She was a part of him, anchored in his heart and filling the void with her warmth.
"Buffy, I love you."
"You..."
"I love you. I'm in love with you," he said in a rush, his breath coming out in short pants.
It took a minute for the shock to fall away from her face, but when it did, it was replaced by that brilliant smile he couldn't live without. "Really?"
He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "God, yes. I'm so fuckin' in love with you I can barely stand up straight. God, yes, I love you, Buffy."
"Spike?"
His eyes popped back open and he felt breathless all over again. "Yeah, kitten?"
"I think I'm ready to go home now."