Title: Blue Eyed Devil
Author: Pattyanne
snapkik@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: None of the BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks!
Rating: Up to NC-17
Summary: AU. Spike Devlin is the
lead singer for the band 'Blue Eyed
Devil'. Buffy Summers is the local
preschool teacher he falls in love with
shortly before leaving for a nationwide
tour.
Part Forty....
Buffy woke on Saturday morning to the sound of
music. Rolling over onto her back, she focused her
sleepy eyes on the source.
"Never know how much I love you
Never know how much I care..."
Her lover was lounging in an overstuffed armchair, his
feet propped up on a matching hassock, playing his
'favorite' guitar and singing for her.
Stark naked.
"When you put your arms around me
I get a fever that's so hard to bear
You give me fever....when you kiss me
Fever when you hold me tight..."
This beat the hell out of any alarm clock she'd ever
owned. She propped herself up on one elbow, pushing
her hair out of her eyes, studying the delightful sight
before her.
"Fever in the morning
Fever all through the night."
He glanced up and saw her watching him, giving her a
lecherous wink.
"Sun lights up the day time
Moon lights up the night
I light up when you...call my name
And you know I'm gonna treat you right"
His voice was soft and husky, and unbearably intimate
in tone. Rising to his feet, he prowled slowly towards the
bed, never taking his eyes off her.
"You give me fever...when you kiss me
Fever when you hold me tight.."
Moving over a little, Buffy patted the empty spot on
the mattress.
"Fever...in the morning
Fever all through the night..."
Spike sat beside her, leaning back against the
padded headboard. Giving her a sidelong look, he
played a few bars without singing.
"Now you've listened to my story
Here's the point that I have made
I was born to give you fever
Be it Fahrenheit or centigrade..."
Buffy smiled, trailing one hand across her
forehead, then fanning her face, both actions
designed to convey the notion that she was
definitely feeling that fever.
"I'll give you fever, when I kiss you
Fever till you live and learn
Fever....till it sizzles
What a lovely way to burn
Yeah, what a lovely way to burn..."
With a final flourish of his fingers on the strings,
he set the guitar aside and sank his right hand into
Buffy's hair, tugging her head back gently, kissing
her until her toes curled.
"Gee," she said when he pulled back, "if I could
have you wake me up like this every morning...I
would NEVER complain again about having to get up
so early."
Spike chuckled. "We'll have to see what we can
do about that, won't we?"
And before she could even think up a reply to THAT
provocative statement, he was kissing her again, doing
it so well and so thoroughly that all her higher brain
functions ceased to cooperate, leaving instinct and
desire running the show.
Moments later, as he lay on top of her, thrusting gently,
steadily, again and again, he placed his lips against her
ear and half-whispered/half-sang, "What a lovely....lovely
way....to....burn....."
****************************************
San Francisco was putting on a show of beautiful
weather when they stepped out the front doors of the
hotel.
The sun was high in the very blue sky, but it wasn't creating
a blazingly uncomfortable heat. There was just the slightest
hint of a breeze keeping things nice and cool.
It was the sort of day Buffy's grandmother had always
described as "a pretty one".
A valet pulled up in the circular drive and jumped out of a
small two-seater convertible with its top down, then dashed
around and opened the passenger side door for Buffy.
"Another car?" she asked, her eyebrows arching. "Whose
is it this time?"
Spike grinned, handing the valet a folded bill and sliding into
the driver's seat. "Actually....I've been thinking about buying
it. It belongs to one of the road crew and he's been looking to
sell. D'you like it, babe?"
"Yeah, it's adorable. What is it?"
"It's a 1974 MG Midget. Fully restored," he informed her,
pulling out into the light morning traffic. "Just the right
size for you and me, love. No one else."
Buffy reached into her handbag and found an elastic band,
then proceeded to gather up her hair and tie it back.
"Uh-uh," Spike said, grabbing the elastic away from her. "I
love it down...you know that."
She was about to tell him that he wouldn't love it quite
as much if she had to spend the day combing out all
the snarls that the wind would produce, but after that
comment, she didn't really much care.
****************************************
He took her to brunch at a teahouse in Golden Gate
Park, then down to Fisherman's Wharf for a one hour tour
of the bay.
Even though the Wharf was rather looked down on by
some of the city residents as a tacky, "touristy" thing to
do, Buffy enjoyed it immensely. They wandered up and down
it, holding hands, watching the people fishing, and
spending a great deal of time observing the collection of loud
mouthed sea lions basking in the sun just a few feet from them.
Devlin bought her a pair of pearl earrings and a chunk of
driftwood with a hand blown glass sea lion perched on top of
it. Much against her will, he bought small cups of shrimp in
cocktail sauce and fed it to her as they wandered through the
displays of fresh seafood, and it tasted so good that she tried
not to think about the possible sanitation issues.
At a little past four o'clock, they reluctantly headed back to
the hotel.
The evening was more or less a repeat of the one before,
made slightly more poignant by the knowledge that their
time together was coming to an end.
****************************************
"Here, I have a present for you."
Buffy glanced up as Spike came into the bedroom,
holding something behind his back. She placed her
hairbrush down and waited.
"What is it?" she asked with forced cheerfulness.
"Well, it's not all that much," he admitted, pulling a
piece of black fabric from behind him. He shook it out,
revealing a cotton T-shirt with the bands name and
those hypnotic eyes silk screened on it. It looked big
enough to hold three or four people her size.
"I just thought....well, I'd kind of like to imagine you....sleep-
ing in it. Just the shirt, nothing else."
She accepted the gift, smiling up at him. "Oh, honey...I
love that idea. Thank you."
His own smile grew so wide then that she wondered what
on earth she'd said to inspire it. "What?"
"Nothing, it's just...that's the first time you've ever
called me that."
He looked so boyishly pleased by it that Buffy could have
kicked herself for not realizing sooner that she'd never
called him by anything other than his name.
He, on the other hand, was full of affectionate nicknames
for her; sweetheart, baby, angel, and a host of others that
seemed to fall from his lips with natural ease.
"Oh," she said, scolding herself. "I haven't been a very good
girlfriend, have I?"
Spike sat down on the bed next to her. "I wouldn't say that."
Buffy rose to her knees and cupped his face between her
hands. "Will you give me another chance....sweetheart?" she
asked, smoothing her thumbs over his cheekbones.
"Always, baby," he whispered back. "Always."
****************************************
"Okay, San Francisco! You've been fantastic!" Spike
called out from the stage. The crowd responded with a
mad round of applause, cheers and whistles. "We hate to
have to go!"
Oz played a few bars of "I Left My Heart In San Francisco"
and the audience went momentarily wild. It took them a full
two minutes to settle down again.
"I think that means we'll be back," Devlin announced. "But
let's have one more song before we go, huh?"
The crowd was loudly in favor of the suggestion.
"A hundred days had made me older
since the last time that I saw your pretty face.
A thousand lights had made me colder and
I don't think I can look at this the same
But all the miles that separate
disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face..."
Sitting again on the stool offstage, Buffy listened
attentively. She'd not heard this one before.
"I'm here without you, baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you, baby
And I dream about you all the time
"I'm here without you, baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight...it's only you and me..."
The lyrics were hauntingly evocative, spelling out
their immediate future quite clearly.
"The miles just keep rolling
as the people leave their way to say hello
I hear this life is over-rated
But I hope that this gets better as we go
I'm here without you, baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you, baby
And I dream about you all the time..."
Tears misted her eyes, blurring her vision for a
moment.
"Everything I know, and anywhere I go
It gets hard but it won't take away my love
And when the last one falls, when it's all
said and done
It gets hard but it won't take away my love..."
Moving across the stage, every turn of his body
was natural and spontaneous as he sang to a
rapt and adoring audience.
Buffy sat there, watching the man she loved across
a vast distance, slightly numb with a force of
confused emotions.
"I'm here without you, baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you, baby
And I dream about you all the time..."
For a moment, Buffy sincerely regretted ever coming
to San Francisco. They would both be leaving tomorrow,
but going in opposite directions.
It was going to hurt. Badly. Maybe even more than
it had the first time.
How would she survive it? Had she been blindly
oblivious to the reality, not wanting to examine it too
closely lest it overwhelm her, thinking that nothing
external could come between them?
This wasn't something they could pretend wasn't
there. The fame and fortune, all the women who
adored him, the physical separation of two people
who lived in vastly different worlds. These things
were a cold, hard fact.
Spike Devlin and an audience were a perfect match,
a symbiont of energy and passion, feeding from each
other. The last thing in the world she wanted to do
was hold him back.
But where would she fit in?
"I think about you, baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight, girl
It's only you and me...."
She was so preoccupied, she didn't notice the
ear drum bursting roar from the crowd, had no idea
that the concert was over. The noise was fuzzy and
indistinct, and she wouldn't have been able to tell
whether they were applauding or throwing old shoes.
It wasn't until she felt a hand on her cheek that she
left off her unhappy musings.
"Hey...you all right, love?"
His voice was concerned, so she did her best to
respond the right way.
"I'm just fine, sweetheart," she said softly, leaning
against him and sighing deeply. "Just fine."
If he didn't believe her, he showed no outward sign
of it. "Want to go and get something to eat...or go back
to the hotel?"
"Let's do both," she said. "I've been dying for a little
room service."
Predictably, one eyebrow arched teasingly. "I think
I can provide that."
TBC.....
(Well, it's nearly time for Miss Buffy to go. Make sure
you have a box of tissues handy for the next chapter,
cuz I'm going to have a field day with it)
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