Title: Blue Eyed Devil Author: Pattyanne snapkik@yahoo.com 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.... Buffy woke on Saturday morning to the sound of music. Rolling over onto her back, she focused her sleepy eyes on the source. "Never know how much I love you Never know how much I care..." Her lover was lounging in an overstuffed armchair, his feet propped up on a matching hassock, playing his 'favorite' guitar and singing for her. Stark naked. "When you put your arms around me I get a fever that's so hard to bear You give me fever....when you kiss me Fever when you hold me tight..." This beat the hell out of any alarm clock she'd ever owned. She propped herself up on one elbow, pushing her hair out of her eyes, studying the delightful sight before her. "Fever in the morning Fever all through the night." He glanced up and saw her watching him, giving her a lecherous wink. "Sun lights up the day time Moon lights up the night I light up when you...call my name And you know I'm gonna treat you right" His voice was soft and husky, and unbearably intimate in tone. Rising to his feet, he prowled slowly towards the bed, never taking his eyes off her. "You give me fever...when you kiss me Fever when you hold me tight.." Moving over a little, Buffy patted the empty spot on the mattress. "Fever...in the morning Fever all through the night..." Spike sat beside her, leaning back against the padded headboard. Giving her a sidelong look, he played a few bars without singing. "Now you've listened to my story Here's the point that I have made I was born to give you fever Be it Fahrenheit or centigrade..." Buffy smiled, trailing one hand across her forehead, then fanning her face, both actions designed to convey the notion that she was definitely feeling that fever. "I'll give you fever, when I kiss you Fever till you live and learn Fever....till it sizzles What a lovely way to burn Yeah, what a lovely way to burn..." With a final flourish of his fingers on the strings, he set the guitar aside and sank his right hand into Buffy's hair, tugging her head back gently, kissing her until her toes curled. "Gee," she said when he pulled back, "if I could have you wake me up like this every morning...I would NEVER complain again about having to get up so early." Spike chuckled. "We'll have to see what we can do about that, won't we?" And before she could even think up a reply to THAT provocative statement, he was kissing her again, doing it so well and so thoroughly that all her higher brain functions ceased to cooperate, leaving instinct and desire running the show. Moments later, as he lay on top of her, thrusting gently, steadily, again and again, he placed his lips against her ear and half-whispered/half-sang, "What a lovely....lovely way....to....burn....." **************************************** San Francisco was putting on a show of beautiful weather when they stepped out the front doors of the hotel. The sun was high in the very blue sky, but it wasn't creating a blazingly uncomfortable heat. There was just the slightest hint of a breeze keeping things nice and cool. It was the sort of day Buffy's grandmother had always described as "a pretty one". A valet pulled up in the circular drive and jumped out of a small two-seater convertible with its top down, then dashed around and opened the passenger side door for Buffy. "Another car?" she asked, her eyebrows arching. "Whose is it this time?" Spike grinned, handing the valet a folded bill and sliding into the driver's seat. "Actually....I've been thinking about buying it. It belongs to one of the road crew and he's been looking to sell. D'you like it, babe?" "Yeah, it's adorable. What is it?" "It's a 1974 MG Midget. Fully restored," he informed her, pulling out into the light morning traffic. "Just the right size for you and me, love. No one else." Buffy reached into her handbag and found an elastic band, then proceeded to gather up her hair and tie it back. "Uh-uh," Spike said, grabbing the elastic away from her. "I love it down...you know that." She was about to tell him that he wouldn't love it quite as much if she had to spend the day combing out all the snarls that the wind would produce, but after that comment, she didn't really much care. **************************************** He took her to brunch at a teahouse in Golden Gate Park, then down to Fisherman's Wharf for a one hour tour of the bay. Even though the Wharf was rather looked down on by some of the city residents as a tacky, "touristy" thing to do, Buffy enjoyed it immensely. They wandered up and down it, holding hands, watching the people fishing, and spending a great deal of time observing the collection of loud mouthed sea lions basking in the sun just a few feet from them. Devlin bought her a pair of pearl earrings and a chunk of driftwood with a hand blown glass sea lion perched on top of it. Much against her will, he bought small cups of shrimp in cocktail sauce and fed it to her as they wandered through the displays of fresh seafood, and it tasted so good that she tried not to think about the possible sanitation issues. At a little past four o'clock, they reluctantly headed back to the hotel. The evening was more or less a repeat of the one before, made slightly more poignant by the knowledge that their time together was coming to an end. **************************************** "Here, I have a present for you." Buffy glanced up as Spike came into the bedroom, holding something behind his back. She placed her hairbrush down and waited. "What is it?" she asked with forced cheerfulness. "Well, it's not all that much," he admitted, pulling a piece of black fabric from behind him. He shook it out, revealing a cotton T-shirt with the bands name and those hypnotic eyes silk screened on it. It looked big enough to hold three or four people her size. "I just thought....well, I'd kind of like to imagine you....sleep- ing in it. Just the shirt, nothing else." She accepted the gift, smiling up at him. "Oh, honey...I love that idea. Thank you." His own smile grew so wide then that she wondered what on earth she'd said to inspire it. "What?" "Nothing, it's just...that's the first time you've ever called me that." He looked so boyishly pleased by it that Buffy could have kicked herself for not realizing sooner that she'd never called him by anything other than his name. He, on the other hand, was full of affectionate nicknames for her; sweetheart, baby, angel, and a host of others that seemed to fall from his lips with natural ease. "Oh," she said, scolding herself. "I haven't been a very good girlfriend, have I?" Spike sat down on the bed next to her. "I wouldn't say that." Buffy rose to her knees and cupped his face between her hands. "Will you give me another chance....sweetheart?" she asked, smoothing her thumbs over his cheekbones. "Always, baby," he whispered back. "Always." **************************************** "Okay, San Francisco! You've been fantastic!" Spike called out from the stage. The crowd responded with a mad round of applause, cheers and whistles. "We hate to have to go!" Oz played a few bars of "I Left My Heart In San Francisco" and the audience went momentarily wild. It took them a full two minutes to settle down again. "I think that means we'll be back," Devlin announced. "But let's have one more song before we go, huh?" The crowd was loudly in favor of the suggestion. "A hundred days had made me older since the last time that I saw your pretty face. A thousand lights had made me colder and I don't think I can look at this the same But all the miles that separate disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face..." Sitting again on the stool offstage, Buffy listened attentively. She'd not heard this one before. "I'm here without you, baby But you're still on my lonely mind I think about you, baby And I dream about you all the time "I'm here without you, baby But you're still with me in my dreams And tonight...it's only you and me..." The lyrics were hauntingly evocative, spelling out their immediate future quite clearly. "The miles just keep rolling as the people leave their way to say hello I hear this life is over-rated But I hope that this gets better as we go I'm here without you, baby But you're still on my lonely mind I think about you, baby And I dream about you all the time..." Tears misted her eyes, blurring her vision for a moment. "Everything I know, and anywhere I go It gets hard but it won't take away my love And when the last one falls, when it's all said and done It gets hard but it won't take away my love..." Moving across the stage, every turn of his body was natural and spontaneous as he sang to a rapt and adoring audience. Buffy sat there, watching the man she loved across a vast distance, slightly numb with a force of confused emotions. "I'm here without you, baby But you're still on my lonely mind I think about you, baby And I dream about you all the time..." For a moment, Buffy sincerely regretted ever coming to San Francisco. They would both be leaving tomorrow, but going in opposite directions. It was going to hurt. Badly. Maybe even more than it had the first time. How would she survive it? Had she been blindly oblivious to the reality, not wanting to examine it too closely lest it overwhelm her, thinking that nothing external could come between them? This wasn't something they could pretend wasn't there. The fame and fortune, all the women who adored him, the physical separation of two people who lived in vastly different worlds. These things were a cold, hard fact. Spike Devlin and an audience were a perfect match, a symbiont of energy and passion, feeding from each other. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was hold him back. But where would she fit in? "I think about you, baby But you're still with me in my dreams And tonight, girl It's only you and me...." She was so preoccupied, she didn't notice the ear drum bursting roar from the crowd, had no idea that the concert was over. The noise was fuzzy and indistinct, and she wouldn't have been able to tell whether they were applauding or throwing old shoes. It wasn't until she felt a hand on her cheek that she left off her unhappy musings. "Hey...you all right, love?" His voice was concerned, so she did her best to respond the right way. "I'm just fine, sweetheart," she said softly, leaning against him and sighing deeply. "Just fine." If he didn't believe her, he showed no outward sign of it. "Want to go and get something to eat...or go back to the hotel?" "Let's do both," she said. "I've been dying for a little room service." Predictably, one eyebrow arched teasingly. "I think I can provide that." TBC..... (Well, it's nearly time for Miss Buffy to go. Make sure you have a box of tissues handy for the next chapter, cuz I'm going to have a field day with it)