Chapter Twenty-One
Gotcha!
Spike glanced at the clock in his hotel room just before he fell in to bed. He couldn’t believe that it was four in the morning. He wasn’t usually much use after midnight, but tonight he would have been happy to stay for another hour or so. He checked his wrist watch and grinned. It wasn’t too late to call Buffy.
“Spike! Are you okay? It’s like the middle of the night for you isn’t it?” said Buffy as soon as she picked up the phone.
“Hello to you, too,” said Spike dryly.
“What? Oh, sorry. Just had me worried. Is everything all right?”
“Quit worrying, woman. Things are fine.” “Well, more or less, if you forget the vampire thing.” “I was awake and thought I’d call you and tell you what I’ve got planned for you when you get here.”
“Um…hang on a minute,” said Buffy. “Okay,” she added a few minutes later. “Just getting somewhere a bit more private.” She giggled.
“And why would you need to do that?” asked Spike feigning innocence. “Just gonna say that we’ll do the whole ‘tourist thing’ with Rich and Tara that’s all.”
“Sure you were!”
“You doubt my word? Shame on you!”
“Anyway, buster. I might have a few plans for you myself.”
“That right, pet?” Spike felt himself harden as she spoke. God, it’d been way too long without being able to be with her. Thank God that he’d see her in four days time.
“That’s right,” replied Buffy and proceeded to, quite graphically, tell him exactly what she expected from him when she got to London.
“Bloody hell,” gasped Spike, opening his jeans and slipping his hand in to give himself some relief. She always got him horny as hell. “And you kiss your mom with that mouth.”
She giggled. “What are you doing now?”
“You bleeding well know what I’m doing, you saucy bint. You’re driving me crazy,” he gasped as he came to a climax.
“Well, I’d better leave you to it. There’s a good programme starting on the TV in a minute.”
“What?” spluttered Spike, unable to believe his ears. He was getting the brush off for a sodding TV programme.
Buffy’s giggles dissolved in to full blown laughter. “Gotcha!”
Spike chuckled. “You are evil, Summers. Totally, bloody evil.”
He sobered as he realised that he’d be the totally evil one if Tara and her witchy friends didn’t sort out what was happening to him. He missed what Buffy had just said.
“Sorry, pet. What did you say?”
“Nothing important - just to tell you to get some rest now that you’ve had a bit of stress relief.”
The smile returned to Spike’s face. “You’re the best stress buster I know. Whether you’re with me or not.” He could see the sky was lightening through the window in his suite and he yawned. “You’re right though. I better try to get some more kip. Got to be up at the crack of sparrow tomorrow.”
“Crack of sparrow?” asked Buffy
“It’s a ‘Rich’ saying. It means ‘up at the crack of dawn’ – you know – when the birds begin to sing!”
Buffy laughed softly. “I’m sure he makes up half of his sayings himself, then tries to pass them off as normal ‘English’ phrases.”
“You’re probably right there, love. Well, I’ll say goodnight to you. Sweet dreams.”
Buffy’s heart lurched as she heard the longing in his voice. Getting to London couldn’t come soon enough. She was ready to leave for the flight to take her to him. She was leaving her cell with her mom so that if Spike called whilst she was on the plane, her mom could cover by saying she was in bed with a headache or something. She couldn’t wait to see his face.
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Spike had fallen asleep almost as soon as he hung up the phone. All too soon, Rich was knocking at the door and waking him up. Spike growled a little, which startled him enough to fully wake up.
“Shit,” he muttered as he rolled over and got up.
He walked over to the door and opened it.
“God, Spike. Yer looked like yer slept in those clothes,” remarked Rich as he walked in.
Spike grinned at him unashamedly. “That’s ‘cause I did.”
“Wot time did yer crawl back in ‘ere then?”
“’Bout four,” replied Spike. “But don’t panic. I behaved myself; as did Pete. I didn’t dance with anyone or have anything alcoholic to drink. Even Pete came home chickless. I think I cramped his style a bit.”
Rich looked relieved. “Did anyone recognise you?”
“Nope. Well, one girl said that I looked a bit like that Spike from The Dingoes, so I told her that he was a right wanker and I was trying to look like Billy Idol.”
They both laughed.
“That’s true – he can be a right wanker,” said Rich, ducking as Spike threatened to clip his ear. “Get yourself some breakfast and be ready to leave in an hour for London.”
“Yes, boss,” said Spike, standing to attention and saluting him.
Rich looked at him. Should he be worried that Spike seemed so normal? Or be glad that he wasn’t freaking out?
“So…um…how are yer feeling?” he asked Spike seriously.
Spike’s shoulders slumped a little and his eyes briefly flashed yellow. “Physically, I feel great. I always feel fit when I’m on tour. Being on stage is like a workout.” Spike glanced at his friend and Rich saw the torment in his – now back to blue – eyes. “I guess I’m just hoping it’ll all go away. Least there’s been no other changes, so maybe it doesn’t matter if we find that other vampire or not? Maybe this is as bad as it gets? It’d be okay wouldn’t it, if all I have to deal with is no reflection, a strange ability to growl and the eye thing? I mean, surely I’ll end up being able to control them changing with a bit of time?”
“Yeah, we could deal with that,” replied Rich hoping that he made the words sound a bit more convincing than he actually felt. “Anyway…go get a shower and make sure you eat something. Meet us in the lobby in an hour okay?”
“Yeah, mate. An hour. I’ll be there.”
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Spike squinted in the light as he walked the few yards to the tour bus, despite wearing Rich’s shades. He climbed on the bus and slid on to a seat about half way down. Far enough away for him not to be too aware of the pungent aroma of the driver when his eyes changed! He was nudged awake by Rich as they got to the hotel. Although Spike, Tara and Rich were going to stay in Rupert’s house, they got off the tour bus at the hotel and then got a car to take them to the house. The sight of the tour bus emblazoned with The Dingoes’ wild dog logo might just be a bit much for the suburban street it was on. It was early evening by the time they were all settled in.
Spike always had mixed feelings about being in this house. It was where he’d been staying when the crash had wiped out his family. It was the last place that he’d seen his mom. He still avoided going in to the guest room that she’d used, if he could help it. Rich and Tara would be using it. He - and Buffy when she arrived - was staying in the room that had been his Aunt Julie and Uncle Thomas’s. He pushed the door to the third bedroom open as he passed it, once he’d put his bags in the master bedroom. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear the banter between him and his cousin James. This was the room where William Pratt’s efforts at poetry were transformed in to song lyrics; where his beloved duster was worn for the first time. His heart clenched at the memory of the loss of his cousin. He wished James were here now to see how things had turned out. But, with all this new knowledge of parallel dimensions and such, he wondered how different things might have been had they not gone on the trip to Bodium Castle and consequently been involved in the terrible motorway pile up.
He sniffed and wiped his eyes with his hands. He hoped that somewhere in the universe there was a James Norman who was having a great life; not dead at just seventeen. He pulled the door shut and closed off the memories. He walked slowly downstairs to join Rich and Tara.
Hi, Spike,” said Tara as he walked in and sat in one of the huge green armchairs.
“Got all settled in, love?”
“Yes, thanks. It’s a lovely house.”
“It is at that. Just holds a few too many memories for me. It always takes me by surprise when I come here. I expect it not to hurt, but it does.” He glanced at his friends and realised that his melancholy mood was making them uncomfortable. He smiled at them as they sat entwined on the matching couch. “Sorry. I’ll be okay.”
“Why do yer stay ‘ere if it upsets yer?” asked Rich looking worriedly at his friend.
“I dunno, I suppose it’d seem like I was being a coward if I didn’t come here. I’m usually better after the first day. It’s good to remember them all.” He saw that he wasn’t really helping them feel at ease. “I can’t explain it. But after learning about the dimensions, Tara, do you think that somewhere they’ll all be okay?”
Tara smiled at Spike. “I’m sure that they are, Spike. And don’t forget that there are heavenly dimensions too. Where ever they’ve gone from this plane. I’m sure it’s a good place.”
She reached out and put her hand on his knee. He covered it with his own and squeezed it.
“Thanks.”
He took a deep breath, and then smiled at them. “I’ve got a little surprise for you both tonight. I organised it before…well, before my troubles, but now it’s a bit of a thank you for everything you’ve done - are doing - for me.”
“We don’t need any thanks, mate,” said Rich.
“I know, but I wanted Tara’s first night in London to be special. You both need to get dressed in your glad-rags and be ready for eight o’clock.”
Tara giggled. “What’s happening at eight?”
“You, my dear,” said Spike dramatically, “are going to the very famous Ivy restaurant for a meal.”
“’Ow the ‘ell did yer manage that?” gasped Rich. The place was booked solid for months and months.
Spike grinned. “For once, I shamelessly used the fame card. Didn’t expect it to work, but it did.”
“But…we can’t go…not after…we can’t leave you alone,” said Rich.
“’Course you bloody can. I’m a big boy. I’ll be okay for one night without you babysitting me.” Spike glanced at Tara. “Anyway, there’s no indication of where this other vampire is yet, is there?”
Tara shook her head. “No, sorry. Not yet.”
“So for all we know, it could be in sodding China then? Go out. Have a good time; please.”
“If you’re sure?”
“I am, mate. Go on, have some fun. Just don’t let old Michael Winner pinch Tara’s arse if he’s there,” joked Spike.
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At eight sharp, a very well turned out couple walked down the drive to get in the limousine that was also part of Spike’s treat for them. They got in to the car and the chauffeur gently closed the door. Spike was just about to go back in to the house when he heard Rich shout his name. The window of the car rolled down and Rich stuck his head out.
“Spike! Don’t forget that interview tomorrow morning. Get an early night, okay? We need to leave at five thirty.”
“Will you quit worrying. Go!” Spike waved his arms at him. “Have some sodding fun!”
Rich’s face split in to a grin, and he rolled the window back up and turned his attention to Tara.
Spike wandered restlessly about the house. He couldn’t settle. He tried playing some music but just couldn’t focus. His conversation with Buffy was cut short as she said that she was at the gallery. He opened the refrigerator which had been newly stocked up for their arrival. He glared at its contents before slamming it shut with a bang that set the whole thing rattling.
“Sod this.” He pulled out his cell phone and called Pete. “You going out?” he asked as soon as Pete picked up.
“Yeah, Spike. I am. Why? You want to come with?”
“If you don’t mind? Rich and Tara are out, and I’ve got that sodding interview tomorrow and just can’t settle.”
“Get a cab over to the hotel and we’ll go from here, okay?” replied Pete. “How long will you be?”
“About a half hour.”
“Cool.”
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An hour later and Pete and Spike were in the VIP room of one of the top London clubs. The place was dimly lit; the music almost deafening, and it was gaudily decorated in rich reds and golds. This time Pete had used their celebrity status to get them in. So, unlike in Cardiff where they were anonymous - just one of the crowd,-here they were fawned over in what Spike found to be a rather irritating manner.
“For the umpteenth sodding time, I do not want a cocktail. Orange juice is what I bloody want,” Spike snapped as the scantily clad waitress approached him for the fifth time in what felt like five minutes.
She walked off with a huff and a muttered “Bloody must be alcoholic if he’s a rock star on orange juice and wound up so tight.”
Spike resisted the urge to go up to her, pull his shades off, revealing the eyes that he knew were amber and growl at the miserable cow. That’d show her.
Pete walked up behind him and whispered in his ear. “Um…the cocktail she’s offering is actually a euphemism.” He chuckled. “If you take it, she takes you to another room and attends your needs, if you get my meaning?”
Spike whipped around to face Pete. “Tell me that you’re joking!”
Pete collapsed in to fits of laughter. “Nope. I reckon I might just have a ‘cocktail’ off that little brunette over there,” he said between gasps, nodding in the direction of a very pretty slim girl of about twenty.
“Where have you bleeding brought me, you git?”
“Whatever you do, don’t get a drink off one of the waiters – same rules apply.” By this time Pete could hardly keep himself upright, he was laughing so hard.
“Great,” groaned Spike. “Just great.”
Spike watched Pete pull himself together and weave his way through the crowd to the brunette. He whispered something in her ear, was rewarded with a brilliant smile and then, with a backward glance at his band mate, he let her lead him away. With a sigh, Spike tried to find a quiet corner and called Buffy, needing to hear her voice.
“Bollocks,” he growled as he found that he couldn’t get a signal. He switched it off and thrust it back in to his pocket.
He felt a hand on his arm.
“Spike?”
He turned to see who was hassling him this time, but smiled with relief when his eyes fell on to a familiar face.
“Hey, Chris, how are you doing?”
“I’m great, thanks. I didn’t think that this was your scene though,” said Chris pulling Spike in to a huge bear hug. “Where’s your better half?”
“Um…she’s still in the States. Her mom had an accident, and so she had to stay behind. She’ll be here in a couple of days. I’m missing her like crazy,” replied Spike as he tried to unravel himself from the hug.
“So, she won’t know if I do this then?” said Chris, planting a firm kiss on Spike’s lips, tongue trying to get admittance to his mouth.
“Ugh! For God’s sake, Chris,” said Spike pulling free and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.
“Aw, chill out, honey. You can’t blame a guy for trying. I do keep holding on to the hope that one day you’ll give me a chance.”
Spike laughed. “You’re something else you know that, right? There’s only one woman, one real woman for me and that’s Buffy.”
“You bitch,” said Chris slapping his arm.
“So how’s the solo album coming along?” asked Spike.
Chris had been the very camp and openly bi-sexual lead singer of a band that had been the support act for The Dingoes first UK tour a couple of years ago. The band had broken up, and so Chris was now busy working on a solo project; otherwise they would have had him support them this time. He was great fun to have around. Chris was just over six feet tall and built like a heavy weight boxer. But it was his cross-dressing tendencies that got him noticed. A predilection for sling back stiletto shoes and floaty dresses meant that he never failed to get him seen. This wasn’t the case tonight, though. He was dressed almost normally, if somewhat colourfully, in jeans and an open necked shirt.
“What’s with the outfit? All your dresses in the laundry?” teased Spike.
Chris leaned in close. “No, I’ve got a new lover.”
“What, and he doesn’t like you in skirts? Shouldn’t change to please a fella, you know.”
Chris smiled at Spike. “It’s a woman and she makes me come over all manly. No dresses when I’m with her.”
“Manly?” Spike raised an eyebrow and tilted his head on one side as he looked Chris up and down. “Yeah, pink jeans. Real manly.”
“It is compared to a floral dress,” countered Chris.
Spike grinned. “Good point.” He glanced around and spotted an empty table at the other side of the room. “Come on, you can tell me all about her.” They went over and sat down as Chris began extolling the virtues of his new love.
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Rich and Tara got home at one o’clock to find the house in darkness.
“Thank God, he’s had an early night,” he said as he fixed Tara and himself a night cap. “Did you have a nice time, Tee?”
“Oh, Rich, it was lovely. As are you,” she said setting her drink down and then taking Rich’s from him and putting it beside hers. She pulled him in to her embrace and kissed him soundly. “So if the kiddies are asleep…”
“Oh, Tara,” mumbled Rich as they kissed and then collapsed together on the couch.
“I think we’d better take this upstairs, just in case,” said Rich, making Tara squeal as he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom.
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By four thirty, Spike thought that he’d better head for home. Pete had long since left for the hotel, taking the petite brunette with him. Spike had spent the night talking to Chris. They left together, walking to their respective cabs. Chris was a touch worse for the drink and so Spike had his arm around the larger man to steady him as his new found ‘manly’ attire still included stilettos. As he helped lower Chris in to the cab - no mean feat to achieve without him falling in the gutter - Spike was rewarded with a rather sloppy kiss on the mouth.
“Goodnight, Chris,” said Spike closing the door.
“Night, babe. Been great catching up,” replied Chris.
Spike stood on the street watching the cab drive away before climbing into his own.
Neither man had noticed lone paparazzi with a long lens, standing in the shadows across the road from them. He smiled to himself as he looked back on the digital display of his camera. The picture of the two men kissing had come out beautifully. The larger man’s face wasn’t visible, but the chiselled features and bleach blond hair of the lead singer of The Dingoes was unmistakeable.
“Gotcha,” he muttered with a triumphant smile.
Tbc
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Banner by dawnofmeAuthor's Chapter Notes:
Thanks as ever to Carol and dawnofme for their hard work. Love you guys :)
Chapter End Notes:
The black dog of depression is snapping at my heels today :( Hopefully I'll have kicked it back in to its kennel tomorrow. I hope you enjoyed this chapter - it's one of my faves! Thanks for reading :)