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Once again unbeta'd, so read at your own risk, LOL!!!

Chapter 3

DANCE? What the hell was he talking about? They couldn't fight right here, in front of everybody!!! Was he insane? Buffy cast a nervous glance around, finding practically every eye in the club pinned on her as they waited with barely bated breath to witness her reaction. Those who frequented Rebel Yell knew this was a highly unusual event occurring here, and blessed their luck for being here this night to see it.

Buffy's face felt like it had forgotten to move as she looked back at Spike. Did he HAVE to keep being all Mr. crouching-on-the-table guy? Taunting her with that evil smile of his? Oh yeah...she'd give a reaction all right.

"Huh?" she asked dumbly.

"Don't believe I stuttered there, pet. You and me. On the stage, " Spike drawled, holding his hand out to her.

Buffy tried frantically to back away from the proffered appendage, her eyes growing wide with dawning horror. "Oh noooo way. No you and me. No stage." Her voice was shrill as she tried to pass through the impenetrable mass of bodies behind her who were all watching this take place with fascination and not a small bit of envy.

Blair grabbed her arm. "Where are you going? Go!" she hissed in her ear.

Buffy shook her head back and forth frantically. "No way."

A cool palm suddenly slid into her unsuspecting hand, and Buffy stared down at it in horror before looking at its owner.

A familiar scarred eyebrow was arched in a challenging manner as Spike regarded her with amusement. "You're not....scared of the Big Bad, are you, luv?"

Buffy's eyes narrowed as she reacted just how he had expected, letting the Slayer come out to cause a bit of trouble. Her jaw jutted out in defiance to his dare and by the spark that suddenly flared in her eyes, Spike knew he had been given his answer.

Turning to the middle-aged man at the table with the Slayer, Spike offered him an easy smile. "Mind if I dance with your daughter a bit, eh?"

"Nope, not at all," came the upbeat reply.

Spike nodded his thanks and turned back to Buffy, tugging at the small hand firmly trapped in his. "Let's go then."

*********

'What am I doing?', Buffy thought frantically as she used her vacated chair to step onto the table, making the same easy leap to the stage that Spike had.

Why was she so stupid? She had allowed herself to react to Spike's not so subtle taunt and now...now she was totally doing a Courtney Cox in the Born in the USA video! All with the groupie stage dancing and everyone staring at her...

And her dad! God! He was just sitting there all puffed up with pride that it was HIS daughter up there. Did he even know the meaning of jailbait? Buffy discovered that Sherry was looking entirely way too excited and Blair was just looking in awe.

Everyone else seemed to be staring with a mixture of envy and curiosity, wondering the reason for this odd interlude in the normal performance.

Now that she was on the stage, everything looked so different and uncertainty suddenly overwhelmed her. Wishing she hadn't taken her jacket off, she tried to find somewhere to put her hands, finally crossing her arms nervously over her bared torso, all the while shooting daggers into Spike's back.

He had grabbed the microphone again and was stalking his way toward her. There was no other way to define the way his body was moving with such liquid grace. Stalking.

Finding herself now feeling like Baby in the end scene of 'Dirty Dancing' except lacking the snappy little hip shaking, Buffy watched with growing wariness as Spike drew closer, her body growing stiff with anticipation. He was so dead for putting her through this humiliation.

She realized the band had been playing the same chords over and over; being the keen observ-o girl that she was, had not even noticed until now.

Raising the microphone once more, Spike's voice filled the small club

Well you could shake it Mony Mony

Shot gun dead and I'll come on home yeah

Don't stop cookin' 'cause I feel all right now

Don't stop now come on Mony


Come on yeah, I said yeah,

Buffy stood there in abject horror as his voice, his entire presence washed over her, flooding her with awareness. This was so not of the good.

Then she realized the microphone was in her face and she allowed a weak answering yeah, to fall from her lips.

Spike smirked knowingly and circled behind her, one hand settling on her hip as he belted out a heated yeah,

This time when the microphone was thrust in front of her face, she gave it a bit more effort, but it still sounded weak coming after the robust voice of Spike.

yeah, yeah

Bending down to her ear, Spike whispered, "Come on, Slayer, give it to me good."

Buffy couldn't help the shiver that tickled down her spine at the cool breath teasing her ear, then gasped when Spike banded his arm around her exposed abdomen and hauled her against him so that her back was flush against the bare chest behind her. The soft leather of the vest he wore teased her skin and she instinctively stiffened, her slayer sense screaming for release.

"Relax Slayer. Don't want me to think you're... chicken, do you?" he asked softly, chuckling at the glare she tossed over her shoulder. 'She was so bloody predictable', he thought with an edge of fondness.

"I am going to get you SO fired," she shot at him.

His laughter surprised her, and she gasped when she felt his hips begin to move in time to the music, and she couldn't help the rigid pose her body assumed once more.

"Chicken. Bwack Bwack..."

One more heated glare and she was on it, intent on teaching him that NOBODY called her a chicken. Buffy choked down her nervousness and let her more assertive self take over.

Letting the music flow into her, Buffy relaxed and moved against him, her ass pressing against the hardness behind her. Figuring he expected her to turn and run from this, she was proud of herself for standing up to him.

A keen sense of feminine satisfaction took place when that hardness got even harder. HA. She was turning him on. Good. That's what he got for calling her a chicken.

The mike was once again raised, and Buffy was ready for it this time, allowing herself to slip into the role that made her his equal rather than a dumbstruck teenager. It was now Slayer vs. Vampire.

'Cause you make me feel...

So good, so good, Well I feel all right

You're so fine, you're so fine, You're, and I feel all right

I said yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

The song was getting her hot, there was no question of that. Buffy had never really listened to the words before, but now in Spike's arms, up on stage in front of a crowd of people, it took on a whole new meaning and she suddenly realized this had gone beyond the black and white.

Oh My God.
It was about sex. She feel it, could feel the desire pouring through her, could feel the evidence poking her in the ass as their hips ground together in a sultry circle in time to the music.

The crowd gradually faded away until all that remained was Spike, his skin against her skin, his voice filling her veins with something she didn't even know she needed as she desperately fought back the paranoia that kept wanting to throw itself up.

'Hello! Master Vampire grinding his...thing against your butt...' it told her.

But it felt good, Buffy decided. It made her feel sexy, made her feel...wanted...
***********
Spike had sang this very song night after night, but it had never had any meaning until now. She felt so right against him and suddenly he was desperate to see her eyes, spinning her around with one hand while making sure to keep her body shielding his protruding erection from the hungry eyes of the crowd.


A light gasp escaped Buffy at his abrupt movements, and she looked up at him.

And smiled.

tbc...





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