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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....

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