Title: Blue
Eyed Devil
Author: Pattyanne
[email protected]
Disclaimer: None of the
BtVS
characters belong to me.
Feedback: Love some, thanks!
Rating: Up
to NC-17
Summary: AU. Spike Devlin is the
lead singer for the band 'Blue
Eyed
Devil'. Buffy Summers is the local
preschool teacher he falls in love
with
shortly before leaving for a
nationwide
tour.
Part
Forty-five:
Buffy literally couldn't move. She kept staring
at the
car, staring into Spike's angry eyes, almost feeling as
though she
was standing off to one side observing
rather than
participating.
This couldn't actually be happening because
Spike
was many miles away from Sunnydale. He was, she
had no doubt,
standing on a stage right now, singing
his heart out.
No, this
person before her, sitting in the drivers seat of
a car that was definitely
ringing a bell in her memory,
had to be an amazing look alike....an exact
duplicate
in fact, right down to the scar through his left
eyebrow.
Perhaps this was a fan, someone who idolized Devlin to
the point of wanting to resemble him physically, who had
gone to the
extreme measure of some pretty extensive
plastic surgery, who had somehow
found out that he was
thinking about buying a fully restored 1974 MG Midget
convertible and....
But how likely was that,
really?
"Hey," Riley said, releasing his hold on her face and
following the direction of her gaze, "isn't that him?"
Buffy
finally shook off her shock and regained her
ability to move. Her eyes darted
to meet Riley's, then
snapped back to Spike.
"I think...." was
all she was able to say before her
disbelief of what was happening climbed to
an all new
level.
Instead of doing what she expected, which would
be
pulling to the curb, climbing out, and coming over to
start at the
very least a verbal confrontation, Spike threw
the car into gear and peeled
away from the corner with a
scream of acceleration.
"Wow," Riley
continued after a moment. "What was THAT
all about?"
It was a
valid question, one she had no idea how to reply
to.
"Buffy? That
WAS him....wasn't it? Spike Devlin?"
She nodded silently, trying to
marshal her thoughts together
and decide her next course of action. "Yes,"
she finally said.
"That was him....and...and I have to go. Um...thank you
for
the coffee."
Feeling as though she was moving in the right
direction,
she picked up her purse and fumbled around for her
keys.
"You're welcome. Buffy....is everything going to be all right
for you?" Riley was still talking.
Well, that was another damn
good question for which she
had no
answer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She drove home,
not knowing what to expect or what
she would find until she saw the car
sitting in her drive-
way.
Pulling in next to it, she set the
parking brake with
ridiculous care and switched off the
engine.
Spike was sitting on the front porch swing, his guitar
in
his lap, picking out some tune she didn't recognize.
Buffy tried to
assess his mood by his facial expression, but
he was in shadow and she had no
clear view.
At this point, there was nothing to do but get out of
the car
and find out for herself how bad the fallout of this incident
was going to be.
Taking in and releasing a deep breath, she
climbed out of
the car and walked up the front pathway.
The music
stopped and Spike raised his head and glared
at her, waiting, head tilted to
one side and that scarred
eyebrow arched.
Buffy sighed. "Stop
looking at me like that."
"Looking at you like what?" he queried
calmly.
"Like I'm a cross between Hitler and the Whore of
Babylon,"
she said.
Much to her surprise, she saw a smile tug at
the corner of
his mouth....a look he quickly took control of.
"Who
was that?" he asked, still holding a quiet tone.
Buffy steeled
herself for the outburst that would surely
follow her reply. "That was Riley
Finn."
"Mmm," Spike nodded. "The banker? The friend?"
She
narrowed her eyes. What was THIS all about? Was
he trying to lull her into a
false sense of 'See? Nothing
bad is going to happen here as long as you're
honest with
me'...only to lower the boom on her afterwards?
"Yes,
Riley is....that person."
He strummed a few chords. "Mmm," he said
again. "Did
you have a nice time?"
This whole scene was getting
more surreal by the
moment.
"It was all right." She shivered a
little, although the
evening air was far from cold. "Do you want
to...come
inside?"
"Yes. Thank you."
All this
politeness was unnerving her, and she dropped
her keys twice trying to unlock
the door.
"Need some help?"
"No...I've got
it."
Once they were in the house, with the door secured
behind
them, Buffy dropped her purse on the table and
turned to face him
again.
"Want anything?" she asked.
"No, thank you." He
leaned his guitar against the
wall.
"Coffee?"
"No."
"A
beer?"
"No." He shook his head. "I'm fine, thanks."
Now
that the niceties has been performed, she was
free to ask, "Spike....what are
you doing here?"
His eyebrows arched at her tone.
"I just
meant," she added quickly, "aren't you supposed
to be in Cleveland or
something tonight?"
He was silent for a moment, then nodded.
"Columbus,
actually....but the concert had to be canceled."
"How
come?"
Dropping to the sofa in a graceful sprawl, he stretched
his
arms out along the back and crossed one leg over
the other.
"It
was a fairly new concert hall...and it must have been
built on the cheap," he
explained, looking her right in the
eye. "Sometime during the night bad
wiring sparked a fire.
Sprinkler system failed. Gutted the whole interior. It
was
too late to try and reschedule anywhere else."
Buffy stared
at him in horror. "Oh, my god....well....well,
that's awful....I'm
just....I'm glad it happened while no one
was there."
While HE
hadn't been there, is what she'd truly meant. Just
the thought of such a
thing happening...of him being in that
place...around all that electrical
equipment that surrounded
him every time he set foot on stage....equipment
plugged into
faulty wiring....
She sank down on the sofa next to
him, feeling a sudden
need for physical contact with his alive and healthy
body.
"You're all right?"
Spike acknowledged her concern with a
slight nod. "I'm
fine, Buffy. We were nowhere near the place when it caught
fire."
She swallowed hard, sending a silent thank you
somewhere
in the direction she judged heaven might be.
"Anyway,"
he continued briskly. "Since I suddenly found
myself with a couple of days
free....I decided to surprise
you."
It had
worked....beautifully.
"So I caught a flight to San
Francisco....picked up the
car...and drove like hell to get here. To
you."
His eyes darted across the room, spotting the video
he'd
sent her. "You've got mail."
That comment reminded her of the
content of the video;
his sorta/kinda/ marriage proposal, deal
sweetening
diamond ring included. "Uh-huh. It came today. It
was
just....."
"Too bad," he cut her off, rising to his feet and
crossing
the room. Picking up the envelope it had arrived in, he
slipped
the tape back into it and placed it on the coffee
table. "Here I was, hoping
it hadn't arrived yet."
Buffy's heart took a sickening dive into her
stomach. "You
were?"
He gave her an impassive look. "Yeah, when I
pulled up I
checked your mailbox to see if I could intercept
it."
Well, this couldn't be going anywhere good at
all.
Sticking his hands into the pockets of his short
leather
jacket, he leaned against the wall, watching her...a cat
with a
jittery mouse.
Disappointment began to settle around her, a
heavy
blanket she was determined to shrug off. "Why?" she
asked
simply.
His lips quirked in a small smile. "Did you watch the
entire tape?"
"Yes....the song was beautiful, by the
way."
"Glad you liked it."
Her thoughts were skittering
around like leaves in a
wind eddy. "About the last part....where
you...."
"Yeah, about that," he interrupted again, then
shrugged
his shoulders. "All the way over here, I was hoping you
hadn't
gotten that far."
She could almost feel the rug tightening below
her
feet, about to be yanked out from under her.
"Spike..."
"No....let me say this." He looked down at his feet for
a
moment, then back up into her eyes. "I shouldn't have said
all that
stuff at the end. It was obviously a mistake, and I'm
sorry I did
it...."
Buffy swallowed a tight lump in her throat. This was
grossly unfair. She hadn't done anything to deserve this,
hadn't been
unfaithful...hadn't even THOUGHT about being
unfaithful. A hectic color
mounted in her cheeks and she
opened her mouth to tell him exactly where he
could go
and how he could get there.
"...that way," he went on
calmly, his devilish grin finally
breaking through as he withdrew a small
satin box from his
pocket, tossed it once, then caught it on the palm of
his
hand and extended it towards her. "A gentleman should
always propose
to a lady.....in
person."
TBC...