Chapter Six
Like A Proper Rock Star
The next morning saw Spike and Buffy up early. They let Joyce sleep in, not wanting her to see their goodbyes, knowing that she felt guilty about Buffy missing the tour.
“So. Say goodbye to your Mom for me, yeah?” said Spike as he released Buffy from a bone crushing hug. “You’ll keep your cell phone on all the time, won’t you?”
“I will, but remember the time difference, okay? If it rings in the middle of the night, I’ll have a heart attack thinking that something’s wrong.”
“I’ll leave my watch on our time. Rich’ll be making sure I get where I need to be on time over there, so I won’t need to change it. God, I’m going to miss you so much.”
He kissed her again, a long lingering, passionate kiss that left her weak at the knees. He never felt complete unless she was by his side.
“I’ll miss you too, but it’s not for long, and you’ll be busy with the concerts and hanging out with the guys. You’ll be okay; you big dope.” She grinned at him.
“Hey! I object to being called a dope.” He reached out and tickled her, making her squeal.
“Stop it. You’ll wake Mom.”
“It’s not me making the noise, pet,” replied Spike. “But I’d better go. Rich’ll kill me if I’m not ready when the car arrives.”
He gently wiped away the tear that had escaped from her eye, and blinked back the ones of his own that threatened to fall.
“I’ll call as soon as I’m settled in the hotel.” He kissed her once more and went out to the SUV.
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Spike had showered and changed, ready for the trip, and was pacing up and down the hall waiting for the car to arrive. He’d called Rich to let him know that Buffy wouldn’t be coming until later, and it was arranged for him to meet up with everyone in the VIP lounge at the airport.
His head snapped up as the intercom at the gate crackled, and a voice requested permission to drive up. A quick glance at the screen confirmed that it was the car, so Spike pressed the button to open the gates.
“Come on in.”
He grabbed his bags and coat and went out of the front door, gazing sadly at the suitcases of Buffy’s things that he left behind. The driver took his bags from him and put them in the trunk before opening the door for Spike to get into the limousine that Rich had arranged.
“Dunno about being a dope, but I feel a right bleeding ponce in here on my own.”
He glanced around at the luxurious interior and then shrugged and with a smirk put his booted feet up on the seat facing him.
“I reckon I won’t get told off for doing this, these days.”
In no time at all, they were at the airport. Spike put on his leather duster - he’d had it since he was seventeen and still wore it just about everywhere. When the driver gave him his bags he looked at Spike a little uncomfortably.
“Mr. Norman?” he said hesitantly.
“Just Spike, mate.”
“Um, Spike, I wonder if you would mind signing an autograph for my daughter, please? I wouldn’t ask but she a total fan of The Dingoes. She’s got tickets to your concert in Sunnydale in a few months.”
“’Course I will,” said Spike with a smile. “What’s her name? Have you got something that I can write on?”
Rich was always trying to get Spike to carry a couple of photographs in case he got asked, but Spike thought it’d be too embarrassing to pull one out like he was expecting to be asked all the time.
“I have - she gave me this just in case I got the chance,” replied the driver, passing Spike a photo of the band. “Her name’s Dawn. She’s been a fan since she saw you play The Bronze a few times when you were first starting out.
Spike grinned at him. “Oh? So she’s a real ‘Babyeater’ then?”
Much as Spike liked the fans that had come on board as their popularity grew, he loved that the fans from their early days still liked them. It proved that they hadn’t sold out.
“Oh yeah,” laughed the driver. “She’s very proud about downloading clips from Youtube years ago.”
Spike handed him back the photo, having signed it to Dawn, and then shook his hand.
“Thanks, mate. Look, if you contact Rich Bayliss, I’ll get him to give Dawn a couple of backstage passes for the concert she’s got tickets for. Got to keep our die hard ‘Babyeaters’ happy. He uses your firm all the time, so his number will be easy to get.”
“Thank you, Mr…er…Spike. She’ll go wild when I tell her.”
“No worries - that’s the last date of this tour so it should be a good one.” He shook his hand again, picked up his bags and walked away.
He signed a couple more autographs before he got into the cosseted environment of the VIP lounge. All of the band members had a policy of signing autographs as much as possible. Rich was delighted, because it was such a great PR move, but they just remembered what it was like when they were following their favourite bands about.
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Spike spotted his band mates as soon as he walked into the lounge. His face split into a grin as he approached them. They stood out like sore thumbs amidst the designer clad others in the room. Spike chuckled as he realised they actually did look like rock stars.
“Hey, guys.”
He sat down next to them. Pete had squashed his lanky six foot three frame into one of the couches, feet up on its arms, playing his DS with avid concentration.
Joey sat with his arm around his wife of three years, Lisa. He’d met her when they had made a video for one of their singles, and she’d been the make-up artist. A whirlwind romance had followed, with a wedding in Las Vegas just a month later. The others’ fears that it wouldn’t work out, had been mercilessly unfounded, and The Dingoes now had their own personal make-up artist everywhere that they went. Lisa also helped with the wardrobe for the tours, which admittedly wasn’t too challenging since they all lived in jeans and t-shirts.
Oz, founder of The Dingoes and, alongside Rich, Spike’s best friend, was sitting with Willow. He’d dated the red haired woman in high school, but they’d split up when Oz had quit college to concentrate on the band, as she was so tied up with her psychology studies. Spike and Buffy had been delighted when they’d gotten back together a couple of years ago. Willow, having gained more qualifications then they would have thought possible, had surprised everyone by writing a column for a major newspaper, rather than teaching as she’d always intended to do. This was the first time that she’d accompanied Oz on tour.
And finally, Rich; good old Rich. Spike reckoned he worked harder than any of The Dingoes, but he seemed to love it as much as the band enjoyed playing music. Next to him, looking shy and a little uncomfortable, was a pretty girl with dirty blonde hair. She was fiddling nervously with the bracelet on her wrist. She had glanced up at Spike as he’d walked towards them, then blushed and looked down, not meeting his eye since.
“Hey Spike, sorry to hear about Joyce,” said Rich.
“Yeah, least she’s going to be okay. She could’ve broken her bleeding neck,” Spike replied. “So are you going to introduce us or what?”
“Shit, sorry, yes,” said Rich. “Spike, this is Tara Maclay. Tara, Spike Norman.”
“Hi, love, how are you doing?” said Spike, smiling at her. “So, I reckon that you must be the secret that he’s been keeping for the past few months, eh?”
“I…I…think so,” said Tara quietly, still not meeting his eye.
“Well, you must be some woman to make this git change his ways,” joked Spike, nudging Rich with his foot.
“Shut up, Spike,” groaned Rich.
“Ooh, sorry. Haven’t you told her about your sordid past?” replied Spike. “Ouch! Sodding hell,” he added as Rich kicked him back, hard on the shin.
Tara giggled and looked up at Spike.
“Was only meaning that you bought ‘Take That’s comeback album,” laughed Spike.
“I so did not!” retorted Rich. “Tara, you’ve got to believe me.”
“But isn’t that what you were playing, the first night that you cooked dinner for me?” said Tara, smiling shyly at Spike as she said it.
Spike grinned and decided that he liked Tara a lot.
“No, it bleedin’ wasn’t!” howled Rich, eliciting a few glares from the others in the lounge.
The friends all burst out laughing.
“Oh, man, this just gets better. Rich actually cooked dinner for you?” asked Oz through his fits of laughter.
“God, Tara, how did you survive?” asked Pete, putting his DS down to join in with the teasing. It was common knowledge that The Dingoes and their manager didn’t have a decent cook between them.
Tara flushed a little at all of the attention, but chuckled as she replied, “I did have to stop at a pharmacy for Pepto-Bismol on the way home.”
More gales of laughter ensued.
“Right! That’s it, Tara, I’m getting you booted back to economy,” said Rich, trying to stifle his smile.
“Don’t worry about him, pet. You can have Buffy’s seat and tell me all about what Rich has been up to,” said Spike.
“And I thought you was a mate,” grumbled Rich.
“So come and sit over here, and tell me everything,” Spike said to Tara, patting the seat next to him.
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“I could get used to this,” thought Spike as he sat in first class. “I swear, even the stewardesses are prettier up here.” He grinned to himself as he thought of the thump that he’d get from Buffy if she’d heard him.
He glanced around at the others. It was halfway through the flight and all of them had fallen asleep, apart from Rich. When he saw Spike looking at him, Rich gently eased Tara’s head from his shoulder, and went to sit next to him.
“So, do you like her?” he asked, inclining his head towards Tara.
“She seems really nice, mate, but a bit shy maybe?”
Rich snorted.
“What?” asked Spike.
“Have you noticed that she doesn’t seem so shy around the others?”
Spike thought about it for a minute, “Er…yeah. What? So your girlfriend doesn’t like me? What’s wrong with me?” replied Spike, trying not to whine.
Rich snorted again.
“Look mate, if you do that again, I’m gonna bleeding hit you.”
“Sorry, Spike. It’s just that she’s a huge Dingoes fan and well…she’s had a crush on yer for ages.” He started to chuckle. “The first time I went back to her place, she didn’t know that I was your manager and there was this huge poster of the band, well of you, to be more accurate. It’s the cheek bones apparently.”
“God.” Spike felt his cheeks colour up. “Wish you hadn’t shared that little snippet.” He glanced over to Tara. “Now I’ll feel bleeding weird when I talk to her.”
“Don’t be daft! I’m taking the piss about the poster. She is a Dingoes fan, though, and is just a bit overawed by being in yer presence. God knows why,” teased Rich.
“You right bastard,” said Spike with a grin. “So what does she do?”
“She’s got an internet store,” replied Rich.
“Yeah?” What does she sell?”
“Not sure really - this and that, but she says it’s doing well.”
“That’s great,” said Spike. “So why did you keep her a secret for so long?”
Rich looked down, “She’s different from the others.”
“I can tell that by the fact she obviously has a brain,” smirked Spike.
“Don’t joke about it, Spike,” replied Rich seriously. “I think she’s ‘the one’ and I’m terrified that I’ll stuff it up.”
“Wow,” said Spike quietly.
“Yeah, I know. So got any tips? Any advice on how not to screw it up?”
“Well, whatever you do, don’t let her think that you’re really your cousin. Apart from that you should be fine,” said Spike, nudging his friend’s arm with his elbow and smiling at him. “Just be yourself, Rich. You’re a good guy - it’ll work out.”
“I hope so,” replied Rich, looking lovingly at Tara. “I’d nearly given up hope of ever finding anyone special.”
“You’re twenty-six, mate, not fifty-six.”
“Yeah, but you and Buffy knew at seventeen.”
“True, but look at Joey, Christ, he only dated Lisa for a month before he married her. So what about Pete? Has he got a secret woman hidden away?”
Rich snickered. “Not likely, he makes me look like driven snow. He enjoys the party life too much right now. At least he steers clear from the drugs that are thrown around like sweets at them.”
“Well, I suppose one of us has to act like a proper rock star,” chuckled Spike.
tbc
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Banner By dawnofmeAuthor's Chapter Notes:
thanks as ever to Carol and dawnofme for their beta work and support :)
Chapter End Notes:
Please leave a review - it makes me write so much quicker!! Tee hee!! Hoping to have another chapter on Sunday so keep an eye out for it. :)