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Chapter 13

Spike owned a Porsche.... That was the only thing that seemed to penetrate Buffy's jumbled brain of mass confusion. Spike owned a Porsche. A convertible Porsche at that, feeling the wind teasing its way through her hair. Expecting to see the Desoto in the parking lot, when Spike had first inserted the key into this beauty, Buffy decided instantly that this car fit him even better than his trademark duster usually did. It just seemed to provide an extra layer of sleek, sensual power to his already oh-so-commanding presence. God, it was hot. HE was hot.

Even Buffy knew that the majority of men who owned these kinds of cars were usually trying to make up for penile inadequacies. Having felt the meaty size of Spike's erection ground against her, she knew instinctively that this car was so not misplaced penis envy. It merely represented a material extension of Spike himself; fast, sexy and potentially lethal.

And definitely fit him better than his piece of crap Desoto. Yes, Buffy liked this new and improved Spike very much.

Pulling her thoughts forcefully away from sexy vampires who definitely did not suffer from little dick syndrome before her brain went too far into the gutter, she focused it instead on her atypical behavior. She had just blindly followed Spike when he had pulled her from the stage amid a chorus of boos and cheers. Her friends had been totally oblivious which had made Buffy want to throw something at them for their supreme inattentiveness; but the other part of her was just grateful she was able to make an easy getaway.

Suddenly she realized something. "Where are we going?"

Spike ruined her pleasure of staring at his perfect profile by turning to look at her. "Now you ask?"

Buffy had the sense to look slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, well with all the stealthy stage leaving and car admiring, it kinda slipped my mind."

"Well, I'm not gonna tell you. Guess you'll just have to find out when we get there, won't you?"

"You're evil." A mock pout settled over her face.

"Damn well better believe it," he replied mildly.

"Are you sure you're really Spike?"

"Last time I checked," he answered easily. Anticipation only heightened his usual-post concert high, and he found himself tapping the steering wheel in time to a beat only he could hear.

"Do you like live Billy Idol 24/7 or what?" Buffy found herself asking, realizing that this was the first time she'd ever had an actual conversation with Spike. Sure, they'd tried to kill each other tons of times, insulted each other, danced, kissed, danced some more-but sitting down and making with the talking? Not so much.

Buffy decided that was it pretty much typical for the weirdness that was her life and shrugged the oddity away.

"Why, you don't like Billy?" His voice held a teasing that brought a smile to Buffy's lips.

"I like Spike more." Her eyes widened slightly at her spontaneous response and a rush of heat engulfed her body as she wished she hadn't blurted her inner thoughts out loud. This...thing was still too weird and too new for her to be so... honest about her feelings. Handing over the ability to use it against her to someone who had used words as a lethal weapon to cut her down in the past was probably not of the good, and Buffy cursed her stupid mouth.

But the look he sent her assured her that he more than appreciated her spontaneous words and that she was in no danger of having her emotions trampled by him anytime soon. A different kind of heat now sizzled through her body in response to his hungry eyes, effectively replacing her previous embarrassed flush.

Discomfiture struck without warning. Suddenly needed a safer topic of discussion, Buffy found herself asking, "So uh, how did all this come about?"

"All what?" His tone was innocent, but the smirk on his face told her that he knew exactly what she was referring to, unwilling to let her off the hook that easily.

Buffy gestured wildly to encompass his entire body, trying to ignore the way his seat belt caressed his bare chest. "You know... The whole Billy Idol impersonator thing."

He gave a slight shrug with one shoulder, drawing Buffy's attention to the enticing way his muscles rippled under his perfectly smooth skin. Suddenly she was very much aware of the fact that he sat half naked just inches from her; and while he may lack body heat, Buffy could feel a surge of warmth engulfing her by his close proximity regardless.

When Spike peered at her curiously out of the corner of his eye, Buffy tore her eyes away from the visual delight she had been feasting on and fastened them on the dashboard. He couldn't help the smirk that curved his lips up at her behavior, finding this surprising gift of shyness endearing. Shy was one thing he had never associated with his Slayer before, and it just gave her that hint of vulnerability that he realized he liked seeing.

The silence wore on just a fraction too long, causing Buffy to squirm uncomfortably in her seat. Returning to her earlier question, she posed it again.

"Are you going to answer me about this whole Billy Idol thing, or is it some great secret? I mean, you were gone how many months? So what happened when you left here?"

"Drusilla," he finally said as he masterfully navigated the powerful car towards the other side of town, its low-slung carriage hugging the road with ease.

"She made you do the Billy Idol routine?"

He gave her a derisive snort in response. "No. She saw a picture of Pat Benatar and got all loopy over it. Thought she resembled her or some rot like that. It was just another one of her bloody phases that lasted way longer than it should have. Couldn't call her Dru, had to call her Pat. Had to soddin' well listen to Pat Benatar's greatest hits until my ears were ready to fall off. Christ, it was a non-ending bloody nightmare. And she was all better, you know? So I didn't get the reprieve of her being too weak to keep things up."

Shocked to find that she was not struck with jealousy at the mention of Spike's sire, Buffy actually found herself amused by this revelation. Of all the possible scenarios that Buffy could have come up with, having to cater to a Pat Benatar obsessed, insane vampire after all the things that Spike had done for her before they left, was just... funny.

"So then how did Billy come about?"

Spike snorted once more. "Dru did it, is what. She thought Billy and Pat together were quite the business and that Miss Edith told her I needed a change. So she would dress me up and make me take her to nightclubs in Los Angeles."

"So Dru made you buy your own club?"

"No. The stupid bint got it in her head that Billy and Pat were doomed and took off."

Buffy looked at him curiously. "You couldn't make her come back?"

"Never tried." Spike's eyes remained steady on the view outside the windshield, the pain of Drusilla's betrayal now faded to just a mere shadow of memories.

"Why not?" Buffy couldn't help but ask.

Spike turned to look at her, his eyes swallowing hers in a blaze of intensity. "Because there was something else I wanted, is why."

Buffy could feel her heart beginning to pound under the implications of his words. He didn't mean her, did he? Her silence gave Spike a wide platform to continue his tale.

"Anyway, so Dru shacked up some vamp who fancies himself Julio Iglesias since apparently, Julio and Pat are more compatible. I stayed in LA, bought Rebel Yell as an investment into the future, and the rest is history."

Buffy knew there was a lot he was leaving out, but found herself suddenly too overwhelmed with an unwanted case of apprehension to press him for the details.

Spike saved her from spazzing by pulling into the long circular driveway of one of Sunnydale's better hotels, letting the powerful car idle in front of the valet parking attendant who looked at the expensive car with wide, hungry eyes, practically licking his lips in anticipation.

Turning to face the girl next to him, Spike reached out and slid his hand through hers, giving her smooth skin gentle strokes with the calloused pad of his thumb.

Buffy couldn't squelch the nervous gulp that descended upon her as Spike studied her intently. "Are you, uh...staying here?" she blurted out.

A gentle smile curled over his full lips. "That I am, luv." Glaring at the valet attendant over Buffy's head, who was waiting anxiously-if not impatiently- to take Spike's car to the parking garage, Spike focused his attention back on the nervous girl at his side. "Do you want to come up?"

Surprised that she had been given the choice, Buffy allowed her gut feeling to answer rather than listening to the annoying blather of her common sense.

"Sure." She offered him a quick smile before turning her attention to the door handle.

The growl that came from Spike had her whipping her head back around in confusion, her brows knitting together as a slight curl of warning shot through her. She didn't get the benefit of an explanation before Spike threw his door open and stalked around the car to her side, and opened the door she had been in the process of attending to herself..

That little act right there managed to freak Buffy out more than anything else Spike had said or done since she had laid eyes on him in LA.

He had growled at her because she was going to open her own car door.

That was... well, weird. And disturbing, and...

"Are you getting out sometime today?" His familiar snarking tone broke through the shock that had just engulfed her, and she all but leapt from the car in an undignified motion, earning her an amused chortle from Spike.

"Women, eh?" The valet parker commented to Spike in a familiar tribute to the universal pain men suffer through because of women. "Can't live without them, and you can't kill them." He shot Spike a private, knowing smile that he more than understood his pain, ignoring the outraged glare from Buffy,

'Shut up you pillock, before I rip your bloody throat out," Spike snarled, taking a step in the idiot's direction.

TBC...

a/n- Thank you so VERY much for all the reviews! They definitely inspire me. You guys are awesome!!





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