What Was I Thinking!?!

Chapter 12

The icy beer was the perfect
remedy for his pad thd throat. Spike gulped it down in only a few swallows and
with a loud smacking of his lips, put the mug down on the table. After
signaling the waitress for another, he looked around for Buffy. The song, ‘Hot
Mama’ was playing and she’d gone off to dance with her friends. But he knew as
soon as a ballad was on she’d come looking for him.

He watched her for a few
minutes, sashaying across the floor between Lindsey and Cordelia.
Her dress kept flying around her hips every time she turned giving him flashes
of her thighs. She seemed to be so free when she danced. This was a part of her
that no one could take away from her. It was why he didn’t care if she left him
alone part of the time. Anyone that tried to take this from her would be trying
to take her soul from her. There was no doubt is mis mind that if she wanted to
be a professional cheerleader she would. The talent and drive were there.

However, the sight of his
roommate shaking his ass on the dance floor made him snicker. Evil plans of
blackmail kept running through Spike’s mind. No one back at UCLA would believe
that Lindsey would be into line dancing. He only wished he had a camera so that
he would have proof. But knowing Lindsey, he would probably laugh, and admit to
it.

“Here you go, sir,” the
waitress said, handing him a fresh mug.

“Thanks, miss,” Spike
responded politely, handing her a bill that would cover the drink and the tip.
He took a sip then looked up as the song changed. It was slow. He grinned while
searching for Buffy. T com companions had already broken off into couples. He
didn’t see her at first then a scuffle made him look toward the other side of
the floor. The hallway leading to the bathroom was in that direction.

His drink hit the floor as
he vaulted over the railing separating him from the dance floor. He ran through
the crowd not caring who he knocked down. Buffy was in trouble. The panic on
her face had everything in him screaming to protect her. A mountain of a man
was trying to touch her and she kept backing away, but he wasn’t taking the
hint. Spike slid to a stop beside them, and as he took his first swing he hoped
that the ‘Born to Kill’ tattoo the man was sporting was a bluff.

It wasn’t. His first swing
surprised the guy and made him rock. Spike’s second punch was blocked as he
received a breathtaking slug to his abdomen. He bent over ng tng to figure out
how to stand again. Footsteps surrounded him. When he came up, Lindsey and
Angel were there to help.

Unfortunately, the guy
wasn’t alone and a few of his companions came to join the swiftly developing
melee. Angel and Lindsey were flanking him but it seemed there was more on the
other side than on their side.

“Come on,” Cordelia
screamed. “Beat the crap out of that jerk.”

It was all the inspiration
that Spike needed. Well, that and the memory of the look on Buffy’s face. He
swung with a left hook as Tattoo guy pulled his arm back. Spike’s fist
connected first. A tooth popped out in a graceful arc they both stared at for a
moment before it fell to the floor.

“You little piece of shit,”
Tattoo yelled, spitting blood with each syllable.

Spike ducked the fist that
was coming his way, but as he came up he found himself surrounded by two other
‘mountain of’ men. His arms were pulled out in a crucifix pose. His eyes
hurriedly scanned the mob for his friends. Lindsey was riding some guy’s back,
beating him around the head. Angel was kicking out and punching at the same
time, and managing to connect with two bodies at the same time.

“Guess I’m toast,” Spike
thought as he tried to figure out a way out of the mess he was in. He kicked
out at Tattoo when he came closer but the guy jumped back with a snarl. “Sorry,
fella, don’t feel like dying tonight.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t mess
up the f oka okay?”

The only response Spike got
was laughter and the first punch connected with his jaw. Using the ones holding
him for momentum he jumped up and kicked again. This time he connected with
Tattoo’s ample middle but he also loosened the hold of the guys who had his
arms. He dropped hoping to lose them completely, but he misjudged. A foot came
out of nowhere catching him in the lower back.

  /p>

Spike was down.

He beat on the floor as he
tried to see through the pain. Another kick to his back made him arch up to tryd did distance himself from his tormentor.

“Lookie, the little fag boy
has fallen and can’t get up,” Tattoo taunted.

It seemed the big man
couldn’t fight his battles alone, because more than one foot was kicking out at
him. Spike curled into a ball trying to roll out of their way. Right about them
he saw another smaller pair of boots coming at him. He would recognize them
anywhere and just as he was about to yell for her to get out of there he heard
her make a sound like a le cle cry.

“Get away from him,” Buffy
shouted. “That’s my boyfriend, you freaks!!”

Spike could hear a chair
breaking making the feet turn away from him in unison.style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Grinning at the distraction that Buffy gave
him, he leapt to his feet. She was still swinging a leg of the chair at their
laughing asses. He ran to the side, grabbed a tray of drinks and let it fly. He
grabbed Buffy’s hand and sprinted toward the nearest exit.

Passing the others, Spike
yelled at them to run, and soon there were the sounds of more feet behind them.
They burst through the back door as a pack but slowed at the sound of sirens.
Keys flew through the air at Spike. Thankfully, he wasn’t totally drunk or
concussed because he managed to catch them.

“Take my truck,” Lindsey
yelled, running backwards. “Y’all head for the groves while we take the heat
from the deputies.”

Not needing any further
encouragement, Spike made a beeline for Lindsey’s truck. He opened the door for
Buffy to get in. She wouldn’t.

“You’ve been drinking,” she
declared, pushing him toward the cab. “Besides I know these roads better than
you.”

His head was spinning by
this time so he just crawled in, jamming the keys into the ignition before collapsing
against the back of the seat. Buffy cranked the car then roared backwards.
There was the sound of crunching metal.

“Oops,” Buffy muttered,
shifting the truck into drive.

Spike somehow managed enough
energy to glance out the back window. Buffy had hit a concrete wall. He shook
his head and turned around.

“You do know how to drive?”
Spike asked, closing his eyes as she turned a corner on two wheels.

“I’m going to die,” Spike mumbled,
passing a hand over his face. He turned to her and spoke in a more normal tone.
“Bu I t I think you can slow down, pet, I don’t think anyone is following us.”

“Oh, that’s good.” She
glanced in the rearview mirror while the truck started to slow in speed. “Nope,
we are in the clear.”

Maybe if there wasn’t any
danger, Buffy would drive with a little more caution. It also gave him a better
chance at surviving this ordeal. He was right. She visibly relaxed, leaning
back in the seat and loosening her death grip on the steering wheel. She
flashed him a grin.

“So, where
to, sir?” Buffy teased.

“Someplace where I can take
advantage of that young, nubile body of yours,” Spike growled, moving closer to
her. He nibbled on her ear while she giggled. His hand slid upwards along her
thigh, slipping between her legs to press exploring fingers against the damp
crotch of her panties. Her legs opened giving him more room. With a grin he
slipped a finger under the elastic and right into his idea of heaven. Her curls
were already dripping with her need for him. “You’re so fucking hot,” Spike
whispered, as his finger slid between her folds to press against her clit.

“Oh, Spike,” Buffy moaned,
sliding her bottom down so that she could open for him even more.

The truck came to a stop.
Spike glanced around, finding them at a stop sign that seemed to be in the
middle of nowhere. He turned her toward him so that he could kiss that luscious
mouth that was already puckering for him. It was a slow tease of their lips
sliding against one another until her hands slid into his hair. She held him
still, attacking his mouth with her tongue, in an imitation of what his fingers
were doing to her pussy.

Her hips ground upwards
toward the fingers that he was thrusting in and out of her slippery channel
while his thumb continued to tease her nub. His hand was coated with her juices
that seemed to flow freely from her. Never had he felt such heat before and he
wanted to lose himself in her fire. Let it burn him with her brand.

They were still kissing,
devouring each other with lips and tongue. The more liberties he took with his
hand, the more she did with her mouth. She was bucking upwards trying to drive
his fingers deeper. He shifted so that he could turn his fingers, stroking
along her walls, until she threw her head back with a keening groan. He
caressed that spot deep inside of her while his thumb kept up a rhythm against her
clit.

Her hands wrapped around his
wrist, holding him there so that she could ride his hand. There were no
inhibitions even when he heard her panties rip from the exertion being forced
against the delicate lace. He drove into her deeper and faster until he felt
the first ripple.

“Come on, Luv, let it go,”
Spike urged.

Buffy pushed up with her
feet, forcing his hand deeper into her. Her own fingers dived into her curls so
she could take over for his thumb. Together they moved in unison until it took
her over. She screamed then slumped back. Her body languid as she gulped in
needed oxygen. He chuckled as he pulled his hand away from her. With long slow
licks he cleaned his hand up.

She stared at him for a
moment then yanked him to her again. “You are so fucking sexy,” she whispered
before running her tongue along his lips. She reached for the button of his
jeans. “It’s your turn.”

“Not going to argue with you
there,” Spike grinned.

The sound of a car on the
road had the pair sitting up straight in the seat. Hoping the car would just go
past, Buffy signaled out the window for them to do that. Staring straight ahead
neither of them looked at the car until they could hear a window being rolled
down.

It was Riley and his
cohorts.

Buffy started fidgeting with
her dress as soon as she recognized them. Spike stilled her hand.

“There’s an admission charge
for watching,” Spike pleasantly said, leaning toward the window. “You never
know. You gits might learn something about pleasing a lady.”

“Maybe if you had a lady in
the truck with you,” Riley returned, with great laughter from the idiots he was
with.

She shoved Spike back, put
the truck in drive and took off.

“Uh, pet, they’re following
us,” Spike said, suddenly sobering up. “Maybe I should drive.”

“No,” Buffy said. “Your
cheek is swollen and you probably have bruises. Damn you and your fingers for
seducing me when I should be taking care of you.”

“Best remedy I could think
of,” Spike teased, patting her leg. “I feel fine now.”

“We’ll see how you feel in
the morning,” Buffy replied. She looked into the mirror at the car that was
riding their bumper then turned to him. “Do you trust me?”

What else could he say? So,
he didn’t say anything, only gave her a slow nod. She pressed the pedal to the
floor and took off. Riley’s car honked then speeded up too. Buffy took a corner
then immediately another corner before pulling into a driveway toward a
farmhouse. Figuring she’d idle the truck until the car passed, Spike relaxed.
Her next move sent him into a total panic. Buffy turned the truck, straight
into a cornfield. The truck bounced as it took down stalk after stalk of the
tall plants.

“What the hell are you
doing?” Spike screeched. “Get ut oft of here.”

Buffy flashed him an annoyed
look that held a trace of betrayal. Sticking her nose in the air she kept
going. Spike kept waiting for someone to come out with a shotgun and start
shooting. He covered his face with his hands as he waited for
something…anything to happen to save him and he hoped it was soon.

style='font-family:Arial'>to be continued…