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Author's Chapter Notes:
I've created a little simple page for this story that could be considered a "supplement" page of sorts. I included streaming clips of the songs I've used so far and a couple of other things. It will be updated with each chapter.

Check it out here. http://antithesis.geminisquaredworks.com/confessions/index.htm *The link should open in a new window....hopefully....if I did it right...
CHAPTER TWENTY - Party as Publicity

Later that Night
After-party


“Are you having fun, love?” Spike asked Buffy, handing her a fresh drink a few hours after the award show was finished. They were now at one of those famous after-parties. Tables were placed evenly throughout the ballroom. Food created by culinary chefs artfully decorated the expensive china placed at each table. Some of the partygoers were seated around those tables, eating, talking, and enjoying fine imported wine. Some, like Buffy and Spike, were standing around, talking amongst themselves.

Spike was concerned about Buffy because she was beginning to look a little overwhelmed. Not that he could entirely blame her. It certainly was a bit daunting. Particularly those damned photographers. When they arrived at the party with Angel and Cordelia, they found themselves once again being shoved into the spotlight, as photographers clamored to get pictures of the evening’s biggest winners.

It was a little intimidating. The flashes going off nonstop in their eyes, temporarily blinding them. Yeah, it was scary. And overwhelming.

And once they got inside, it still wasn’t over. Even more photographers were inside, documenting the evening for all the entertainment news shows and magazines. Celebrities were everywhere. Managers were everywhere. Publicists were everywhere. Anyone who mattered was everywhere.

Spike would have been perfectly content to just hop in the limo with his wife and head back home. But Anya told them they had to go.

Publicity.

They were about to hit the States in a big way within a month, she told him and Angel. They had just set the record for most wins by a single act in one evening. People would want to see them. People would want to get to know them. The two men had looked at each other, a certain amount of fear tinting both their features.

Angel, because he had never been comfortable in such gatherings. And Spike, because he was more concerned about Buffy. The party didn’t terrify him the way it did Angel, as he was more used to be looked and gawked at, being the front man of the band.

Buffy, of course, was most definitely not.

And Angel had managed to sneak away, leaving Spike to deal with the hoopla of this forced publicity. It annoyed Spike somewhat, because they were supposed to be in this together.


Buffy looked at Spike, eyes wide, “Yeah. Of course.”

He tilted his head at her, scarred eyebrow raised, “Really?”

Before she could respond, a man came up to Spike, “Congratulations, mate.”

Spike turned to him, shaking his extended hand, “Thank you.”

The man smiled then left. He was only about the fiftieth person to do so that evening. Seemed like everyone wanted to shake hands with the man of the evening, as it were. Spike sighed and rolled his eyes, turning back to Buffy.

“Are you sure? We could blow this joint, if you want,” he said, hoping she said ‘yes.’

She shook her head, “No. We can’t do that. You have to do your thing, otherwise Anya’s going to kick your ass.” She gave a small smile.

He rolled his eyes, “To hell with Anya and her damned publicity crap.”

“Spike,” she exclaimed, a little surprised.

“I’m sorry, pet. But I think I’ve shaken hands with most people here and had my ass kissed by everyone else.” He pouted, “And Angel already left, so why can’t I?”

Buffy looked at him, slightly startled, “He did? When?”

He sighed, “Saw him and Cordelia sneaking out ‘bout an hour ago.”

“Oh…he didn’t even say ‘goodbye.’”

“I know. Probably thought I could handle it on my own.”

“But he’s the other half of Acid Reign. He’s supposed to be here, too,” she said in disbelief.

Spike shrugged, “I know. It’s not that big a deal.” He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I don’t want to talk about Angel anymore. Are you sure you don’t want to leave?”

She struggled with her answer. Yes, she did, but she knew that Spike had to put in his appearance. “We shouldn’t.”

He pulled her closer, resting his forehead against hers, “Come on. Let’s go.” He gave her a brief kiss. “I want to celebrate with my wife. And I can’t do it here.”

A flash interrupted them, as they both looked at in the flash‘s direction, startled. Spike rolled his eyes in annoyance as he saw the photographer give a small shrug, uncaring, before he moved on. Damnit, could he not even have a private moment with his wife here?

“Case in point,” he muttered.

“There’s my two little lovebirds. Been looking all over for you.”

Buffy and Spike separated. “Lorne,” Spike said by way of greeting.

“How are you two this fine and lovely evening?” Lorne asked, grinning.

“Good. We’re good. We‘re-,” Buffy said, sounding forced.

“We’re bored,” Spike interrupted.

“What?” Buffy looked at her husband, then to Lorne, “No. No, we’re not. We’re having a gr-”

Lorne smiled, “Don’t fret, sugar. It doesn’t bother me in the least. I can completely understand. Anya can be a little -”

“Scary?” Spike asked, with a smile.

“Well, yeah. Look, if you two want to skedaddle, I’ll hold down the fort.”

“Really?” Buffy asked, hopeful.

“Sure thing. Why don’t you two sneak out the back door. I’ve already arranged for the limo to meet you out there.”

Spike grasped his manager’s hand, giving it a firm shake, “Thanks, mate.”

Lorne smiled, “Don’t mention it. Just figured after the night you’ve had, you deserve some quiet time with your wife.”

Spike smirked, “Oh, trust me, mate, it won’t be quiet.”

“William!” Buffy exclaimed, blushing profusely as she hit him across his chest.

He grasped her hand in his and chuckled, “Come on, love. Let’s get out of here.” He squeezed her hand, pulling her away.

Lorne laughed, “Have fun, lovebirds.”

“You too, mate,” Spike called out absently, dodging other partygoers as he guided his wife toward the back.



They slipped out the back, escaping the dreaded cameras of the paparazzi and journalists, and found the limo waiting, just like Lorne said it would be, with the driver waiting by the door. When he saw the musician and his wife approach, the man opened the door and helped Buffy into the limo. Spike climbed in after her and the driver shut the door behind them. He got into the driver’s seat and started up the engine, driving away from the party.


Spike, seeing the closed partition, turned to his wife, smirking, “Alone, finally.” He pulled her close, one arm around her waist as the other weaved through her hair, his lips capturing hers. Buffy groaned into his mouth, opening her lips slightly. He took the invitation and slipped his tongue past her lips.

His hand that was wrapped around her waist moved down to play with the edges of her skirt. His fingers danced across the silky skin of her thigh, sliding underneath her skirt.

She gasped as she felt him push the material, moving his hand up. “William,” she breathed into his mouth. Her hips jerked when he cupped her through her rapidly soaking panties.

“Will. What are you doing?” she gasped, glancing at the partition, where on the other side, the driver sat.

“Don’t worry, kitten. He can’t see us. Prolly can’t even hear us. Just let go.” His fingers skimmed across the waistband of her panties. He pushed them aside and his fingers ran across her labia, soaking in her wetness.

“Oh, God,” she breathed, gasping rapidly as his fingers ran up and down her slit.

Spike kissed her again, deeply, as his tongue wrapped around hers. He slipped a long finger inside her, thrusting it in and out, in tandem with the movements of his tongue.

Buffy broke the kiss with a heady gasp, panting as her forehead rested against his.

“Does this turn you on, love? Knowing that we might get caught at any time?” Spike whispered, breathing heavily as he was equally turned on.

“Oh, God. Don’t stop,” Buffy begged, as he slipped another finger in, his thumb massaging her clit.

“Speak to me of our first meeting,” Spike whispered into her mouth.

Buffy gasped, her hips raising up, “It was night, on the campus.” She moaned loudly. “Oh, God.”

“Go on,” Spike growled headily, adding a third finger, curling them as they pressed against that spongy spot that had Buffy gasping every time.

She was moaning with every breath as she tried to speak, “I was -” gasp - “trying to find the residence hall.” She gasped, her body tensing. Her hips began moving with his hand. “I was looking around when you spotted me.”

Her eyes squeezed tightly as her hand ventured down to wrapped around his wrist, pressing his hand harder against her pussy. “You came up to me and -” her words were beginning to spill out quickly as she near her climax. “- and tapped my shoulder, scaring me. I spun around and accidentally punched you in the nose.”

“And I knew you were the one,” Spike breathed against her mouth.

Buffy’s head flew back, as she gasped his name. She was beyond words now as he quickened his ministrations, thrusting his fingers as his thumb pressed against her clit hard, rubbing fiercely.

Within seconds, she was shaking and gasping as she came hard. Spike closed his eyes and groaned, as he felt her inner muscles squeeze his fingers tightly. When she came down from her high, he slid his hand from her skirt. He brought his fingers to his mouth, moaning as he tasted her juices.

He smiled as Buffy began giggling.

“Wow,” Buffy gasped, a smile spreading on her face. “That was hot.”

END CHAPTER TWENTY





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