Part 6 – Concession Stand Snack
Author: Saber
ShadowKitten
Disclaimer:
I own nothing. All belongs to Joss and UPN.
"Why
am I here again?" Spike asked as he led the way down the back row.
"Because
Cordelia sent us six tickets and Riley was busy, " Buffy answered him.
Spike
snorted derisively at Superpansy's name. He flopped down into a thinly-padded
folding seat and propped his foot up on the back of the seat in front of him.
Buffy sat down beside him, then Willow, Giles, Anya and finally Xander filled
in the remaining assigned seats.
The
500-seat, little theater was rapidly becoming full. It was opening night of Laura,
a mystery in which Cordelia had won the starring role of a wealthy socialite
who had been supposedly murdered. It had come as a surprise when Giles had
received the tickets -- both the brunette's role and that she sent the tickets
at all.
Xander
had pointed out that Queen C probably wanted everyone there to rub her success
in their faces. The friends readily agreed with him, and they decided to allow
their one-time friend gloating rights.
Thus,
on Friday night, they piled in Giles's new Blazer and drove down to Los
Angeles. Buffy had invited Spike to come along only because the blond vampire
had shown up at the ex-Watcher's as they were leaving. She told herself it had
nothing to do with the disappointed look she'd caught as he'd turned to leave.
Buffy
shivered when a gust of cold air hit her as she leafed through the program. She
looked up and scowled. "Great. I'm right under the air conditioning,"
she grumbled. She glanced over at the blond vampire sitting beside her.
"Spike, gimme your jacket."
Spike
looked up from his own program. "Do what?"
"Give
me your coat. I'm cold," Buffy said.
He
arched a brow at her demand. "Do you think I care?"
"Come
on, Spike, you don't even feel the cold," Buffy said. She rubbed her bare
arms and shivered again. She gave him her best defenseless innocent-girl look.
"I'll even say 'please.'"
"That
look isn't going to work, pet. I know for a fact you're anything but
innocent," Spike told her. He stood up and began to remove his duster.
"If I let you use this as a blanket, you're going to owe me..." His
lips curled up in a leer as he let his sentence trail off.
Buffy
debated briefly as to whether she wanted to be indebted to him or suffer
frostbite instead. The last time he'd collected on an IOU, she hadn't been able
to sit down for an hour because parts of her that had never been touched before
were touched quite intimately. Then again, the small pain and discomfort had
had a surprisingly pleasurable side-effect.
She
shivered again and made her decision. "Fine, I'll owe you," she said.
"Now hand it over before I go into cryo-freeze."
Spike
blatantly licked his lips in a predatory manner as his eyes raked over Buffy's
body, stopping purposely to ogle the twin points her nipples made against her
thin, spaghetti-strap shirt, attesting to her coldness.
Buffy
glared at him and snatched the leather duster out of his hands.
"Pig."
"If
you wore more clothes, Slayer, you wouldn't be cold," Spike said, flopping
back down into his seat.
"At
least I'm dressed up," Buffy told him. "Just like Willow and Giles
and Anya and Xander...well, sort of like Xander."
"It's
not like I had fair warning that I'd be coming to the theater," he said.
"You
wouldn't have dressed up anyway," she said pointedly.
"True."
Buffy
rolled her eyes and pulled the duster around her like a blanket. The scent of
the old leather, tobacco and maleness tickled her senses. The material was soft
and well-worn, and it caressed her bare skin like a lover's comforting touch.
She
moaned softly in pleasure as she pulled the duster even closer around her bare
shoulders, the long length of it brushing over her bare legs. Now she knew why
Spike was always wearing the coat. If it was hers, she'd never take it off. In
fact, she might never give it back again.
A
small smile played over Spike's lips as he watched the Slayer close her eyes, a
blissful expression on her face as she snuggled under his duster. He heard her almost
inaudible sound of satisfaction and, for an instant, he wished it was him
that had made her look so content.
The
lights lowered and the blond vampire dragged his attention away from Buffy,
slightly disgusted with himself. Sex, he told himself. It's only sex.
The
play started as a few latecomers trickled into the theater. Buffy began to
swear under her breath as a very tall, very broad, linebacker-type sat right in
front of her.
She
tried leaning as far over towards Willow as she could, but the overly large guy
put his big, beefy arm around the girl sitting beside him, pulling her closer
and thus blocking Buffy's view. The Slayer then leaned on the armrest
separating herself and Spike, and her swearing grew more colorful as a curly
mop of hair prevented her from seeing the stage.
"Thanks
for the last row tickets, Cordelia," she muttered unhappily.
"What's
wrong, ducks?" Spike asked, leaning closer to her. "You're wiggling
around like your knickers are riding up."
"I
can't see," Buffy said quietly.
"And?"
Buffy
shot him a glare. "And I'd like to watch the play. I didn't come all this
way to stare at the back of someone's head for two hours."
"Want
to switch?" Spike asked.
She
blinked once in shock. "You'd do that?"
"I
wouldn't have asked otherwise, Slayer," he replied in exasperation.
Buffy
looked at the person sitting in front of him and shook her head with a sigh.
"It still wouldn't matter. I'm too short. The second she moved I wouldn't
be able to see again."
Spike
frowned at the woman seated in front of him and quickly made a decision. A
happy Slayer was an easily-shaggable Slayer. "Come here," he ordered
quietly, patting his thigh.
Buffy
looked at him in question. "What?"
He
sighed heavily. "Come. Here," he repeated slowly.
"You
want me to sit on your lap?"
"No,
I want you to suck me off in front of your chums," he replied with a short
clip to his words, indicating he was getting ticked off.
"No
need to get pissy," Buffy snapped. "I just wanted to make sure that's
what you meant."
"Yes
it's what I meant," he said. "Now, get your sweet arse over here
before I change my mind."
Buffy
huffed at him, but she moved anyway. His bare arms went around her waist,
pulling her snuggle back against him, the curve of her backside molding to the
front of him. He was sitting tall in his seat, allowing her to lean her head
back against the crook of his shoulder with ease. She pulled the duster back up
over her body and ignored the fact that she could feel a bulge growing bigger
and harder against her clothed backside.
The
Slayer was happy to find that she could see quite well and her heart swelled
slightly at Spike's thoughtfulness. "Thanks," she whispered.
Spike
grunted something that sounded like "you're welcome" but she couldn't
be sure. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Willow giving her a perplexed
look and Buffy turned her head to mouth that she couldn't see. The redhead
nodded once and went back to watching the play.
Buffy
turned her attention to the stage and was wrapped up in the story within
minutes. It didn't hurt that the actor playing the Detective was a
megga-hottie. When Cordelia came on stage, the Slayer could easily see why her
former quasi-friend was the titular character, Laura -- a stuck-up socialite
with a spine of steel and a hidden heart.
Buffy
didn't realize how involved she had gotten in the unfolding plot until she was
yanked back to reality with a gasp as a strong finger brushed against her sex.
She hadn't felt Spike's hand move from around her waist to slip under her skirt
and push aside her panties. The tip of his index finger traced an erotic
pattern in her nest of curls and her mouth opened in shock.
"Spike,"
she squeaked softly.
"Spread
your thighs for me, luv," Spike whispered in a low, seductive voice near
her ear. "Please."
It
was the please that had her opening her legs wider for him, her skirt riding up
higher as she moved under the duster. She felt Spike's other hand join his
first one near the apex of her thighs and he used it to hold her panties to one
side.
Spike's
playing finger delved into her mound, combing the hair that he knew to be a
dark brown in color free from her feminine folds. He gently stroked her soft
hidden lips, lightly running the tip of his finger around her most sensitive
button of flesh. He continued to tease her until she wiggled her hips back
against the erection he'd had since she'd slid onto his lap.
Buffy
pressed her lips together tightly when she felt Spike's finger slide deep
inside of her moist channel. Her vaginal muscles clenched instinctively around
him and she inhaled a shaky breath through her nose as he curled his finger
upwards. Unbelievable pleasure shot through her when he rubbed the upper wall
of her inner core, stimulating her g-spot. She barely managed to hold back a
moan as he continued to torture her that way.
"You're
so hot," he whispered silkily by her ear. "So wet."
She
whimpered in the back of her throat as a second finger joined the first inside
of her body. He began to slide the digits in and out of her, his thumb finding
her distended clit with ease. He pressed down on her clitoris and started to
massage the super-sensitive pearl in a circular motion, causing her to close
her eyes tightly as completely wonderful sensations washed over her.
"I
want to be inside you, Slayer," he told her quietly in a deep voice tinged
with tightly restrained passion, his fingers and thumb moving faster with each
word. "I want bury myself deep inside your softness. I want to feel your
inner muscles quivering around my aching cock like they are around my fingers.
I want to hear you gasp and moan and whimper my name out loud as I thrust in
and out of your slick core. I want to be anywhere but in this bloody theater
surrounded by hundreds of people touching you under the cover of darkness and
my duster."
Buffy
bit down hard on her lower lip as she exploded into orgasm from his touch and
his words. He had released the edge of her panties with his other hand and had
wrapped his arm tightly around her waist to hold her firmly to him. Her
fingernails sank into his forearms as she tried not to buck wildly as her
climax went on and on.
Finally,
he moved his hand away from her still-quivering pussy and brought it out from
under the duster. The perfect concession stand snack, he thought, before he
sucked his fingers into his mouth, inhaling her musky scent and tasting her
juices that clung to his digits. His cock throbbed uncomfortably beneath the
denim of his trousers and he wished that they could leave so he could fuck her
long and hard.
The
lights came up, startling both Buffy and Spike, the former slamming her legs
shut under the duster. She felt her face flaming and knew that if anyone looked
at her they would know exactly what Spike had been doing. She scrambled to her
feet, held the duster in front of her and quickly headed down the row away from
her friends to another exit from the auditorium.
Spike
pressed the heel of his palm to his erection, trying to adjust himself enough
that he could stand up and walk somewhat normally. He glanced over at Willow
two seats away, who was gathering her purse together. "It's not over
already, is it?" he asked.
"Intermission,"
Willow said. "You have fifteen minutes if you want to smoke."
Fifteen
minutes, he thought, rising to his feet and heading for the same exit that the
Slayer had left through. Fifteen whole minutes to drag Buffy back behind the
theater and shag her against the building's wall. He could do that.
When
Spike exited the auditorium, he scowled angrily. People in various modes of
fancy dress milled about the lounge area. Finding his woman in the crowd would
eat up valuable sex time. He growled and began to stalk through the crowd, his
eyes searching for the Slayer.
Instead,
he found his Sire.
"Oh
bugger," Spike swore when he saw Angel standing beside a man who was as
tall as the poof, oval glasses adorning his face. Angel turned his gaze right
to the blond vampire and Spike began to swear more viciously.
Turning,
Spike shoved his way through the crowd towards the clearly marked restrooms. He
rapidly entered the men's room and went right to the sink. He turned the hot
water on full blast and thrust his hands under the scalding stream, quickly
trying to wash away Buffy's unmistakable scent.
In
the back of his mind, he wondered why he was scrubbing his skin off rather than
rubbing his affair with the Slayer in Angel's nose...quite literally, if he
didn't wash his hands. He tried to tell himself it was because he didn't want
her to stop spreading her thighs for him, which she would do in an instant if
Angel found out. A little voice laughed raucously in his head at that
reasoning.
Spike
had just finished drying his hands when Angel entered the men's room. He
straightened up to his full height and pasted a cocky grin on his face.
"Angel, long time, no see."
"Spike,"
Angel said through clenched teeth. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm
the new towel boy," Spike answered sarcastically. "What do you think
I'm doing here? I'm catching the show."
Angel
narrowed his eyes at the blond. "Does it look like I just got turned to
you?"
Spike
rolled his eyes and headed past his Sire towards the door. Angel grabbed his
shoulder and Spike glared at the dark-haired vampire. "What are you going
to do? Stake me right here?"
Spike
shrugged Angel off and strode out of the restroom. He knew the older man was
following right behind him and he sighed. It looked as though shagging his
Slayer was out of the program.
"Spike,
there you are," Buffy said, coming towards Spike from the right, his
duster draped around her small body. "Willow told me in the bathroom that
you were heading out for a cigarette and I realized that I had them."
"Buffy."
Buffy
froze, her eyes growing wide when she heard the familiar voice. She turned her
head slowly and saw the dark-haired vampire that had once been the center of
her thoughts and dreams. "Angel?"
Spike
saw Buffy pale, her eyes darting to him before returning to his Sire. "Um,
I...uh..."
"It's
no big deal, Slayer," Spike said abruptly, coming to her rescue. The
terrified look she gave him made him both angry and hurt at the same time.
Didn't she trust him?
"No
big deal?" Angel said.
Spike
turned to his Sire and shook his head. "Willow went and screwed up another
one of her soddin' spells a short while back, making me and the Slayer think we
were engaged." He gestured to Buffy. "The little chit thought you'd
get all buggered if you ever found out about it."
"Angel,
I suggest that we take our seats again...oh, hello Buffy," Wesley said,
joining the small group.
"Wesley,
hi," Buffy said in a thickly strained voice. "What a surprise to see
you here."
"Yes,
well, Cordelia threatened me with something I'd rather not repeat if I did not
attend," Wesley said, a small smile tugging up the corners of his lips.
Angel
chuckled, which caused Buffy and Spike to swerve their gazes to the vampire in
shock. He gave them both a half-smirk. "What she was going to do to Wesley
was nothing compared to what she promised to do to me."
"I
don't know about you, Angel, but I envy Dennis," Wesley said. The lights
flickered twice and the former Watcher straightened his tie. "I think that
is our cue. Buffy, it was lovely to see you again."
"You,
too," Buffy said.
"I'd
better go," Angel said, his voice softening as he looked at Buffy. "I
hope you're doing okay?"
"I'm
fine," Buffy said. "Everybody's fine...and Spike makes a good
neutered house pet."
"Sod
off," Spike growled at her.
Angel
nodded. "Well, maybe I'll see you after the show."
"Maybe,"
Buffy said. She gave the dark-haired vampire a strained smile before he walked
back towards the auditorium. The second Angel was completely gone from her
sight, she turned to Spike and threw her arms around him.
Spike
blinked in shock, his arms automatically coming around her to hold her close.
All of his plans to chew her out for not trusting him vanished abruptly as she
spoke.
"Thank
you," she said quietly. "I know how much you probably wanted to rub
Angel's nose in our...whatever it is we're doing, but you didn't. Thank you for
not making him hurt."
Buffy
pulled back only to kiss him soundly on the lips. She looked into his blue eyes
and smiled sincerely. "Thank you, Spike. It means more to me than you can
imagine."
Spike
tried to shrug off the strangely proud feeling that filled him. "Yeah,
well, I'm horny and I figured I'd never get laid if I opened my gob to tell
peaches that we're shagmates."
"Well,
when we get home, I'll fix that rather," she paused as she rubbed her hips
forward against him, "large problem for you. Sound good?"
Spike
dropped his hands down to her duster-covered ass, pulled her tight against him,
and suggested in a velvety voice, "We could always skip the next
act..."
The End