A/N: I thought this one up on my holiday. It's based on Mr. Brigthside by the Killers. This is my take on the song, if you don't agree, I don't care!
“We’re out of the elevator and you’re an asshole.” Buffy declared as she started to walk away in a firm pace. Spike laughed and ran after her. “Wanna go for a coffee then?”
She paused and said: "Okay, on one condition."
"And that is?"
"You let me read your poetry."
"Deal."
"Deal." She grabbed his hand and they took off.
11 months later
Spike was standing in the kitchen, only wearing jeans, baking pancakes. His blonde hair was ruffled up and curled like a maniac. He was whistling something and seemed extremely happy. Suddenly someone wrapped arms around his waist and kissed his shoulder. “Good morning, Captain Peroxide.”
Spike smiled and replied: “Good morning, princess. You fancy some pancakes?”
He turned around and saw Buffy sitting at the kitchen table, perusing the front page of the paper.
“Yes please,” she said with a grin. He placed the plates with pancakes on the tables, got her a mug and filled it with coffee. Then he sat down across of her and started eating.
Buffy took a couple of bites and then asked, “So, what’re you up to today?”
“Nothing much. Write a bit I recon and maybe paint.”
“No work tonight?” she asked him. Spike held a job as a night janitor at the local inn.
“No, Harry wanted to changes shifts, so I’m working tomorrow. And you?” He asked.
“Fact-checking mostly, we’re running a bit low now every one seems to be affected with the flu. And at 16:30 I have an interview.” She replied, before downing her coffee.
“Oh, with who?”
“Lorne Jones. He made a new documentary that supposed to be taboo-breaking or something.” Buffy said and then, “What’s up with you?”
Spike’s face had turned totally pale, his jaw was clenched and his hands were balled to fists. He didn’t speak for several moments and then said: “He kissed you on Anya’s Christmas party and grabbed your ass. You’re not interviewing him.”
“Oh. My. GOD!” She exclaimed, “You’re still not over that?! He’s gay for Christ sakes!”
“HE KISSED YOU!” Spike roared, jumping up.
“He was drunk! Like everyone else at that party. You were too!” She pointed out.
“I was not!”
“Yes, you were. Now quit it. Lorne’s gay. I’m gonna interview him and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Buffy said sternly. “Now sit down and eat your breakfast.”
Spike glowered and sat down again. “Fine,” he muttered.
“Besides,” she smiled, “I only go for guys in elevators.” Buffy got up and washed her plate and cup. “Now have a nice day,” she smiled and kissed him on the cheek.
Spike grabbed her arm and said: “Don’t go into an elevator with him.”
“I won’t,”
It was 15:30, when Spike came out of his study. He fixed himself a sandwich. He wanted to go back into the study, but when he sat on the couch, he was unable to move again. Spike ate his sandwich and watched re-runs of ‘Passions’, but his eyes kept flicking to the clock. 15:45, 15:53, 16:03. Eventually, he lay down and closed his eyes.
Buffy was sitting across from the guy in a restaurant. She was smiling a lot and twirling her hair. She was most definitely flirting. And Lorne was just sitting there being charming and handsome. She fired question after question. His answers were casual, witty and from time to time ironic in a way her boyfriend could never achieve.
Spike was lying on the couch, writhing. Sweat was pearling on his forehead.
Buffy laughed. After the interview they had some more coffee. After the coffee Lorne escorted her to her car and got in on the passengers side. They drove away. He was smoking, something Spike was never allowed to do and they were talking some more. Then Buffy actually joined in with the smoking, something she vowed never to do.
They reached an apartment building and went inside. They had some more coffee and talked. Suddenly Buffy was on the kitchen table taking her dress of and Lorne’s chest was bare. They somehow moved to the bedroom.
He was rocking from one side to the other on the couch mumbling, “Go away, go away.” Spike nearly fell of the couch but didn’t notice it. All he noticed was her moaning and his grunting and it made him feel violently ill. He reached out his hand trying to scratch away the image of him on top of her, naked.
They were done, but Buffy clearly stated: “Wow, Spike never let me come that hard.” She put on her dress. They said goodbye with a long kiss. Buffy got into her car and drove home. On the while, she was singing a tune. Then she got out of the car, straightened her dress, put on some more perfume and fixed her hair. Then she started the climb the stairs. Before she went in, she checked that she didn’t look to flushed and then she put her keys into the lock.
“Honey?”
Spike shot up and looked around. It was 18:00, on the clock. She entered the living room and kissed him. “Hey hon, are you okay? You’re sweaty and pink.”
“I’m fine,” he lied. Suddenly he heard more footsteps. “Did you bring someone?”
“Lorne and David are having their kitchen done, so I invited them over for dinner. Is that okay?” Buffy asked him, “David is his boyfriend,” she added.
Spike sat up straight and looked at her, dazed. “Yeah, sure.” He muttered.
“Are you sure you’re alright? I can kick them out and fix you chicken soup or something.” Buffy offered, already trying to remember where she had put the thermometer.
“No, you’re a horror in the kitchen and we don’t have any instant meals.” He grinned.
“Okay,” she smiled and sat down on the lap and then kissed him again.
“Oooooh, David! Look at those love-birds. Aren’t they cute together?” Lorne asked his boyfriend from the doorway.
Spike grinned at him. All was right with them. They were going to have dinner and tonight Buffy and he would go sleep in their bed like every night. It was okay.
Le Fin
Mr. Brightside- The Killers
I'm coming out of my cage
And I’ve been doing just fine
Gotta, gotta, gotta be down
Because I want it all
It started out with a kiss
How did it end up like this
It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss
Now I’m falling asleep
And she’s calling a cab
While he’s having a smoke
And she’s taking a drag
Now they’re going to bed
And my stomach is sick
And it’s all in my head
But she’s touching his—chest
Now, he takes off her dress
Now, let me go
I just can’t look its killing me
And taking control
Jealousy, turning saints into the sea
Swimming through sick lullabies
Choking on your alibis
But it’s just the price I pay
Destiny is calling me
Open up my eager eyes
‘Cause I’m Mr Brightside
I never...
I never...
I never...
A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading it. I had fun writing it. I like jealous Spike, kind of ^^
