All About Spike

Your Fabulous Face
By jodyorjen

PAIRING: B/S
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: Season 6 fic, Post "All The Way".
DISCLAIMER: All hail Joss Whedon, UPN, the WB, FOX , Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. Theirs, not mine.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Challenge fic for A LizardInCrimson. Challenge entailing working in "I Get A Kick Out of You" by Cole Porter. Lyrics used without permission.
DISTRIBUTION: Please ask my permission first, just so I know where it's headed.
FEEDBACK: Sure, fire away to jodyorjen@yahoo.com



He gets no kick from champagne.

Sipping from the bottle, Spike lolls on his back, gazing at the ceiling of his crypt.

Drinking isn't cutting it.

Smoking isn't doing it.

There's nothing good on the telly.

Spike is seriously bored.

Restless, he decides it's time to look for some trouble.

Pulling on his duster and grabbing a stake, he sets out to kick some demon ass.

Stalking soundlessly through the graveyard, he finds his targets quickly.

Two vamps pick through a jack-o'-lantern filled with candy, sitting next to a fresh grave.

"We should have eaten that other kid. He had a big pillowcase full," complains a pimply, dorky looking vamp.

"Why is it taking Bobby so long to rise? The dumb ass always did keep us waiting. Now he's gonna run late for eternity," whined a petite blonde.

Flashing back painfully to the annoying voice of Harmony, Spike dusts her with gusto.

He turns to off her buddy, spinning just in time to catch a kick right in the face.

Falling backward, blood cascading from his nose, he smacks his head hard into a gravestone.

The slayer stakes the remaining vamp.

'Clearasil, buddy. Should have looked into it."

The vamp with the bad skin poofs into a cloud of dust

"What the hell are you doing here, Spike?" asks Buffy.

Decked out in a black leather outfit, her golden hair curling over her shoulders, she stares down at Spike.

She looks fabulous.

Not to mention - pissed off.

Glaring at her, he sits up, cupping his nose.

"Getting my nose broken by you for the millionth bloody time, apparently."

Buffy rolls her eyes at him.

"Thought you didn't want to be out on Halloween anyway."

"It's after midnight, sweets. It's tomorrow already."

Standing, Spike gestures to the empty and forsaken cemetery that surrounds them.

"Why are you here? You had plenty of fun earlier. Dusted some chaps. You have some kind of quota I don't know about?"

Buffy flips him the bird.

Spike chuckles, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Fine by me, pet. You want me to just bend you over a headstone or you want to come back to my crypt and have a long, slow shag?"

Shooting him a look of disgust, Buffy turns to stomp off.

Bobby pops up out of his grave, dirt clods falling off his suit.

Without even looking, Buffy stakes him.

Bye bye, Bobby.

Spike steps in front of her, palms up.

"Lighten up, Buffy. C'mon, the night is young. We could find something else to do. A few demons to kill, weapons to sharpen.."

She looks bored.

"I have some champagne in my crypt. Some chocolate too. Tara gave me a little goody bag."

She perks up.

"Chocolate?"



Back at Spike's crypt, Buffy and Spike eat candy.

Spike sits in his chair, while Buffy is sitting cross-legged on his bed.

Buffy picks through the pile of candy on the coverlet, making herself a little pile.

"So I really don't understand how Dawn could go parking with a vamp like that."

"I don't think I'm the target audience for this little rant, Buffy, seeing as how I am one."

Ignoring him, she continues on.

"I mean really, you'd think that she never listened to anything I said. Vamps bad. Vamps evil. Pretty clear, you know?"

"Well, Slayer, 'do as I say, not as I do' generally doesn't go over real big with your average teen."

"Angel was different-"

Sighing in exasperation, Spike fetches himself his bottle of champagne.

"Words cannot express how very sick I am of this particular topic. If I hear any more about how special the Ensouled One is, I may just heave."

Taking a big swig, Spike sinks back down in the chair.

"Do you want kisses? Or hugs?"

Perplexed, Spike looks over at Buffy.

She holds chocolate candies in the air, dancing them from side to side.

"Oh. Um, I guess the hugs."

Buffy tosses him the white chocolate candies, leaving the milk chocolate for herself.

"I'm surprised. I kind of had you pegged as a kisses guy."

Spike mutters to himself. "I wish."

Buffy looks up, her mouth full of chocolate.

"Huh?"

He waves her off.

"Nothing."

Swallowing her chocolate, Buffy walks over to Spike.

"Do you have anything to drink?"

He waves the bottle of champagne at her.

She pulls a face.

"Anything non alcohol-y?"

"Well, there is blood."

"Major ewww."

Buffy takes the bottle and sniffs at it.

"What does it taste like?"

"Like stars, or sunlight. Like tiny bubbles of radiance, burning down your throat."

Buffy laughs at him.

"You channeling Drusilla or what? That was all poetic and stuff."

Frowning, Spike tries to snatch back the bottle.

Buffy snatches it back.

She cleans off the neck of the bottle, making a big production out of it.

Spike rolls his eyes.

"I don't have cooties, Buffy. Just take a bloody sip and be done with it."

She takes a little swig, and then a larger one.

"Hey, this is major yummy. Sort of ginger ale-ish, only not."

Plopping down on his armrest, she takes a bigger swig.

"This stuff is fantastic. Where did you get it from?"

"Nicked it from your house. Watcher's got good taste in the bubbly."

"Right. Champagne, for all the celebrating. Toasting the happy couple."

Buffy raises the bottle to toast and chugs it, losing her balance and sliding off the chair arm into Spike's lap.

"Whoopsie."

Buffy laughs, flailing her legs in the air.

Leaning back on his chest, she looks up in his face.

"You are nice and comfy."

Adjusting himself, he settles her more firmly in his lap.

"Thank you, Slayer. You are nice and comfy too."

She reaches up and pats his cheek.

"You have pretty eyes."

His throat clenches and he feels flushed.

The soft look in her eyes warms his heart.

She settles back on his chest, drinking steadily from the bottle.

"Xander's getting married. Willow's in love. Even my baby sister can find someone."

She smiles up at Spike.

"Course, he was an evil vampire."

Draining the bottle, she leans over and places it on the floor, settling back on Spike's lap.

Curling into his arms, she looks up at Spike, idly brushing her fingers through his hair.

"It's not really fair. I mean, if you're an evil vampire, shouldn't you be all icky and ugly looking? You know, like the Master. All fruit batty."

Spike stares down at her, enraptured with her touch and her attention.

"Not all cute and nummy looking."

Leaning forward, she licks his neck.

"Nummy tasting, too."

Spike grips the arms of his chair, hell bent on not doing anything stupid.

She pulls her hair back from her neck, exposing its long white length.

"Am I nummy too?"

Slowly, hesitantly, Spike leans forward, very gently licking her neck.

"Very nummy," he growls.

"More, please," Buffy says in a little girl voice, tilting her head back further.

Spike complies, being as delicate as he possibly can.

The taste of her is intoxicating, far better than the champagne, and hits his system like a narcotic.

He is fiercely aroused, his mind spinning with thoughts of throwing her on the bed and taking her.

Picking her up, he stands her up firmly on the floor.

Her face crumples in disappointment.

"I like that game, Spike. Can't we play some more?"

Grinning up at him, she drops her voice to a sexy purr.

"I'll play really nice."

Her eyes blaze with the potential for a Really Good Time.

Mentally kicking himself, he picks her up in his arms and carries her up the stairs and out of his crypt.

"Where are we going?" she asks, her arms twined around his neck.

"I'm taking you home, Slayer. Time for all the good girls to be tucked up nice and snug so no evil things can get to them."

She nuzzles his neck.

"I'm not a good girl."

Frustrated as hell, Spike kicks out at a small tree as he walks by, knocking it to the ground.

Buffy stares up at him, eyes wide.

"You slayed the naughty tree."

He laughs, "That's right, pet. Spike slayed the big, bad tree."

She rests her head against his chest as Spike continues to walk along.

"When I was a little girl my dad used to carry me like this. He used to hold me tight and spin me around in circles. He'd spin me higher and higher in the air. Airplane rides. They were my favorite thing."

He looks down at her plaintive expression.

Cradling her closely, he spins her around and around, higher and higher, his coat spinning and whipping all around them.

Buffy laughs and laughs, huge belly laughs that Spike has never heard before.

"Wheee!" she yells, throwing back her head as Spike swirls her around. "Wheee!"

Stopping, he looks down at her.

Flushed in the moonlight, grinning from ear to ear, she has never looked so happy.

Her arms around his neck, she whispers in his ear.

"That was fun."

Kissing him gently on the cheek, she rests her head on his chest.

"I'm not tired," announces Buffy, in a muffled voice.

Moments later, she is asleep.

Spike continues on, carrying his precious burden towards home.

His heart light, he begins to sing.

"I get no kick from champagne," rolls a rich baritone voice, echoing into the quiet night.


The End

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