Tuning his black acoustic guitar, Spike glanced up when he heard the door to his small studio open. He had called his bandmates when he and Buffy had returned from the flooring place for an impromptu rehearsal.
“Hey, Spike! How’re they hanging these days?” Oliver Alden, the lead guitarist said as he made his way over to a table and set his guitar case down.
“Bit high and riding t’ the left,” Spike replied, resting his own instrument over his lap.
Oliver snorted. “In the circumstances, you better be glad she didn’t just lop it all off and mail it back to you, mate.”
Well, he did have a point and besides, Oliver would know all about how far Dru would go to end things since he’d been the one to date her first. If Spike recalled correctly, Dru had nailed a cow heart to Oliver’s front door with a note when she had decided to move on without him.
But Oliver wasn’t the type to be bothered by such things. If anything, he’d been amused by her little antics. He always did have a thing for the crazy ones.
“I s’pose you’re right.”
One day he would be able to look back on this whole thing with Dru and laugh, but today was not that day. They hadn’t even been to court yet for the divorce proceedings, so Spike knew he had a long road ahead of him.
“I know I’m right. You don’t even know what that girl’s capable of,” Oliver told him, pulling his guitar out of the case.
“Oh, I think I’m beginning to.”
Oliver shrugged. “Don’t drop your guard, is all I got to say.”
A bark of laughter escaped his lips. “I believe I recall you tellin’ me that when I married her.”
“And?” Oliver pointed a finger at him. “Did you listen to me? Stupid git.”
It was true. He hadn’t listened, but in his own defense, he was in love with her. How could he even begin to imagine all of the horrible things she could and would do? Dru was his dark princess, his salvation. She could do no wrong.
Of course, his opinion began to change when all of the tabloids splashed her extramarital activities all over their front pages. The evidence was irrefutable. Pictures, very explicit pictures, actually, of her and her costars left little doubt that she was cheating on him.
When he had first seen the pictures, he’d been in denial. They must have been fakes or someone else that looked like his wife, it couldn’t be Dru. She wouldn’t do that to him not after they had taken vows to be true to each other.
What a bloody fool he had been to believe any of her lies. After a while, she even stopped trying to convince him she was faithful. They both knew so there wasn’t any point in saying otherwise.
“Don’t think about it. It’ll only make it worse.”
Turning to look at his friend, Spike saw only deep concern etched on the fellow Brit’s face. Oliver knew him better than most and sometimes it was a little unnerving to hear him answer unspoken thoughts.
Spike had met Oliver through Dru when they first started seeing each other. When he found out Oliver was Dru’s ex, Spike hadn’t exactly held out the olive branch. Truth be told, Spike hated the bastard. Oliver had everything Spike wanted, a fairly successful band, a nice place to hang his hat, and the adoration of Dru.
It had taken about a year for Spike to finally get over his animosity towards Oliver. After Oliver’s band split up, he and Spike began hanging out more and more with each other, playing music, writing songs, and forming a fast friendship.
“Yeah, easy for you t’ say. You didn’t jus’ have your heart ripped out of your chest and run over by a car,” Spike retorted, flicking at one of the strings on his guitar, making an angry sound.
Folding his arms over his chest, Oliver just shook his head. “You’re not ready to have this conversation with me. We both know that.”
Damn bloody psychic!
“Howdy-ho!” Xander greeted loudly as he and Daniel ‘Oz’ Osbourne walked into the studio.
Both Brits gave a short nod in response and Xander rolled his eyes. “Do you guys like practice to get in such perfect unison or is it just a natural talent?”
“Shut up, whelp!” They said in unison, then looked at each other and started laughing.
Xander threw up his hands. “Hopeless.”
They started setting up their instruments and Spike couldn’t help but notice the uncomfortable silence they were all working in. He couldn’t really blame them for being pissed off at him. Not only had he forced them to cancel several tour dates, he had effectively shut them out of his life.
The band was almost secondary to their friendship and he knew they had been worried about him for the month he had been MIA. The dozens of phone calls and knocks on his door were proof of that.
“So how are you and Buffy getting along?” Xander asked, adjusting his bass drum closer to his stool.
Spike had been trying to not think about Buffy. They needed the practice, but that wasn’t the real reason he called them over. What she had said to him at the flooring store had really bothered him, so much so that he didn’t feel like he could be around her for a while. A practice would let him clear his mind and take his worries elsewhere.
“Fine.”
Xander started to make some sort of comment, when Oliver interrupted him. “She seems like a nice girl. Met her a couple times.”
“Yeah, she is.”
Oliver gave him a strange look before tossing a cable at Xander, which hit him in the shoulder because he wasn’t paying attention.
“Hey!” Xander rubbed his shoulder and scowled. “The mood in here sucks. You guys need to lighten up or I’m just gonna have to go hang out somewhere else.”
“Good luck with that,” Oz deadpanned, slipping the strap to his bass over his head.
A reluctant laughter filled the room and Spike felt some of the tension leave the group. They would never survive the tour if they didn’t get it together soon.
“How about we just play?” Oliver finally said, his black eyebrows up in question.
“Best idea I’ve heard all day,” Xander replied.
Buffy sliced into a tomato as she busied herself with making sandwiches for the band.
Spike hadn’t said much to her during the car ride home and once they got there he scurried off to get in touch with his bandmates. She hadn’t seen him since.
It was painfully obvious he needed some time away from her after she had verbally slapped him. And the worst part about the whole thing was that she hadn’t meant anything she’d said to him. She knew he didn’t have some sort of hidden agenda and as for him not being boyfriend material…she was doing everything in her power to stop thinking of him that way.
He wasn’t ready for another relationship and she couldn’t be the transitional girl for him. No matter how she felt about him, it just wouldn’t work out.
Spreading mustard on a piece of white bread, she tried to remember whether Spike liked turkey or not.
Okay, so she took pride in the fact that she knew inane little details of Spike’s preferences. And her outlook on the role she played was probably antiquated being that she was a woman living in the 21st century, but she couldn’t help it if she enjoyed taking care of others. If she was indispensable to Spike, then she knew she was doing her job right.
She piled the sandwiches on a tray and grabbed a couple bags of potato chips before carrying them over to the studio.
Music streamed out of the small building as she crossed the lawn to it. Just as she reached the door, Spike’s voice hit a high note and her knees went a little weak. Damn, the man could sing.
Opening the door, she squeezed herself in so as not to disturb them and went to set the food down on a table.
His eyes were closed, his voice raw from emotion as he belted out a song she recognized as being their first single. He held the mic in both hands as he sung into it with everything he had. A sheer layer of sweat glistened under the overhead lights and his normally tamed to submission hair was wet, platinum blond curls falling unhindered on his damp forehead.
All she could do was stand in awe of him.
Which is exactly the reason she didn’t realize the song had finished and that all four men were now staring at her in amusement.
“See somethin’ you like, luv?” Spike’s voice broke through her lust-induced haze.
Oh, yeah. She saw something she really liked. Mmm…
“Uh, sandwiches,” she blurted out in her haste to shake her naughty thoughts away.
He smirked at her, suggesting she was thinking out loud. His hand left the mic and slid down the stand, stopping midway only to go back up.
“You brought food?” Xander suddenly exclaimed. “Oh, you are the freakin’ best, Buff!” He hopped over his drums and made a beeline for the food, almost knocking her over in the process.
“Sweets, I think it best not to mention food around him again. He might mistake your arm for a drumstick next time,” Oliver said with a wink.
She giggled. “I’ll try and remember that.”
“Do we have anything to drink?” Xander asked his mouth full of food.
Buffy frowned. “Oh, I must have forgotten them. I’ll be right back.”
Starting for the house, she jumped slightly when she heard Spike’s voice. “Wait up, pet. I’ll help you.”
“Okay,” she replied, walking beside him back into the house.
Once in the kitchen, Buffy walked over to the refrigerator and started pulling out cans of soft drinks and bottled water, setting them on the counter behind her.
“You didn’t have t’ do that, luv.”
Buffy stood up and looked at Spike, who was sitting on a tall stool next to the counter. “I know, but you guys were working so hard out there I figured you could use a break.”
Sighing, Spike ran a hand through his damp curls. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
“What do you mean? If anyone should be sorry, it should be me. I’m the one who can’t keep her mouth shut,” she replied.
“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have jus’ run off.” His blue eyes narrowed as he stood and walked to her. “Look, I don’ know what this-” He motioned between them. “-is, but I feel like you are the only one I can talk to.”
Her breath hitched at his admission. How was she supposed to respond to that? He was baring himself to her and suddenly, she wasn’t sure she could handle it.
“I know I got m’mates in there that I should be able t’ bear my soul to, but nothing comes out when I try. You an’ I have a connection, Buffy. I can feel it,” he finished quietly, his hand coming up to brush a strand of her hair from her face.
Her eyes closed at the sensation of his skin against hers and she felt herself drowning in his touch. He was so close now that his warm breath hushed against her cheek and a shudder went through her body.
“Buffy,” he whispered, his fingertip grazing over her lower lip.
She looked up at him through her lashes. His breathing was heavy and he stared intently at his finger tracing her mouth, blue eyes turned almost black in pools of need. Her tongue darted out unconsciously to moisten her parched skin and caught his fingertip by accident.
Trembling, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her flush against him. Her breasts pressed flat against his chest, she could feel his hard muscles along the entire length of her body. He backed her up against the refrigerator door and ran his hand from her waist up to cup her jaw.
“I bet you taste sweet,” he murmured before capturing her lower lip between his.
Heart pounding, blood running hot through her veins, she fell into the flood of feelings that he was creating with his mouth. His tongue darted out, running over her lips as he sought entrance. With a gasp, she opened her mouth and he responded by deepening the kiss, his tongue slipping in and rubbing against her own.
Her hands went to his chest, needing to feel him. God, it was so wrong. She had promised herself she wouldn’t give into her lust for him, but here she was, wantonly rubbing her calf up his leg and pulling his lower body closer to the center of her need.
He fisted a hand in her hair and ground his body into hers. Sparks flew through her, the heat of it almost unbearable and she pushed herself farther into the kiss. The fire within her was raging and she needed to release the pressure building deep inside before she burst.
“Unh,” she moaned, her hand reaching around to grab his ass. She needed to feel him against her, in her. Her body was so close to completion, teetering on the edge of glorious pleasure.
“Oh my-”
“Hey, are you guys in here? Xander’s gettin’ antsy.”