FIC: Rockin' the Night Away (S/B, 1/1)
Happy Holidays! It's the season of giving, and I have a gift of fic. This one is especially for the lovely enigmaticblues. It's another "pay it forward" ficlet, and she asked for Spike/Buffy, post-Chosen and something sweet.
This is also a little different in that it's a multi-media fic - you must watch the video here first. Seriously, you have to watch in order to comprehend the depth of Spike's horror. You see, it's Billy Idol, singing "Jingle Bell Rock." No, really.
And now, on to the fic!
TITLE: Rockin' the Night Away
AUTHOR: Cindy
SETTING: Post-Chosen
RATING: Soft R-ish for some naughty touching. Also, Spike tends to swear a bit.
LENGTH: 675 words or so.
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine, but Joss said I could play with them.
"Oh, for the love of...what the bloody hell are you watching?" Spike leaned over the back of her chair to peer at the computer monitor.
"You mean you of all people don't recognize him?" Sure, his hair was a little darker than it used to be, but he'd aged remarkably well. Buffy looked closer. "He's not a vampire, is he?"
"He's a bloody idiot is what he is." Spike gaped at the screen in amazement. "He looks as barmy as Drusilla. On a bad day."
"Well I think it's nice. And kind of sweet."
"Nice!" Spike sniffed in disgust. "Billy Idol is not nice. He sure as hell isn't sweet! Billy Idol is bad! And dangerous. Billy Idol does not sing fucking Christmas carols in a fucking tuxedo jacket."
Buffy swiveled her chair around to face him. "You mean, the way you're so bad?" She hooked her index finger around a belt loop, and tugged him closer. "I've heard that sometimes, people change."
He put his hands on the back of her chair and tilted it back against the desk so she was practically horizontal. Icy blue eyes bore into hers, and his voice was low and deadly. "I changed for the better. He changed into a lounge lizard."
"I think you're being too hard on him." Buffy ran her fingers through Spike's hair, freeing his curls from their gelled submission and sculpting them into spiky little tufts. "You should wear your hair like this sometimes. It's cute."
Spike sighed, the unmistakable sound of defeat. Another one bites the metaphorical dust at the hands of the Slayer. She felt a little bad for him. Behind her, Billy continued to sing about prancing and dancing.
Buffy craned her neck around to look at the video again. "Hey, don't you have a red shirt like that?"
She turned back to find Spike giving her patented eyebrow raise number three, which meant, you have got to be kidding me, Slayer. "Used to. Was evil then, remember?" He looked past her to the computer and cringed.
Buffy followed his eyes back to the monitor, where Billy frolicked in CGI snow.
"I didn't know evil had a color."
"Black, Buffy. The color of evil is black. But red is a close second." You silly bint. She knew he was thinking it, even if he didn't say it.
"Oh. Right you are, cowboy." Buffy bit her lower lip to hold back a smile. "And look at that. You're wearing all black."
"Yeah..."
She slid her hands up his arms, over his black clad shoulders. "And you're not evil. Anymore. Well, except in those ways I like."
Patented eyebrow raise number five, which meant, are you flirting with me, Slayer?
"Your point?"
"My point is, I think we'd better get you out of those clothes, ASAP. It is my mission to rid the world of evil, after all." Her hands slid slowly down his chest, over his stomach, and beneath his waistband to grab the hem of his t-shirt, which she pulled over his head in one swift motion. Before she knew it, though, he'd switched their positions so somehow it was her straddling him in the chair now.
"Still have a few moves I haven't seen, huh?"
"And don't you forget it."
"Oh, I won't. But I'll tell you a little secret," she said, as Spike began his own mission to rid her of her apparently evil shirt, unfastening the buttons of her blouse with admirable speed and concentration.
"You been keepin' secrets, love?" Her blouse fell to the floor.
"I thought the red shirt was kind of hot. Well, you, in it. But you without it? Or, say, anything?" A zipper unzipped ever so slowly, and Spike's eyes threatened to roll back in his head. "Hotter."
Buffy hiked up her skirt as Billy sang on, and Spike growled low in his throat as she shifted against him. She leaned in for a kiss, and felt him smile against her lips. "Maybe rockin' the night away's not such a bad idea after all, love."
fin
This is also a little different in that it's a multi-media fic - you must watch the video here first. Seriously, you have to watch in order to comprehend the depth of Spike's horror. You see, it's Billy Idol, singing "Jingle Bell Rock." No, really.
Click to viewAnd now, on to the fic!
TITLE: Rockin' the Night Away
AUTHOR: Cindy
SETTING: Post-Chosen
RATING: Soft R-ish for some naughty touching. Also, Spike tends to swear a bit.
LENGTH: 675 words or so.
DISCLAIMER: The characters aren't mine, but Joss said I could play with them.
"Oh, for the love of...what the bloody hell are you watching?" Spike leaned over the back of her chair to peer at the computer monitor.
"You mean you of all people don't recognize him?" Sure, his hair was a little darker than it used to be, but he'd aged remarkably well. Buffy looked closer. "He's not a vampire, is he?"
"He's a bloody idiot is what he is." Spike gaped at the screen in amazement. "He looks as barmy as Drusilla. On a bad day."
"Well I think it's nice. And kind of sweet."
"Nice!" Spike sniffed in disgust. "Billy Idol is not nice. He sure as hell isn't sweet! Billy Idol is bad! And dangerous. Billy Idol does not sing fucking Christmas carols in a fucking tuxedo jacket."
Buffy swiveled her chair around to face him. "You mean, the way you're so bad?" She hooked her index finger around a belt loop, and tugged him closer. "I've heard that sometimes, people change."
He put his hands on the back of her chair and tilted it back against the desk so she was practically horizontal. Icy blue eyes bore into hers, and his voice was low and deadly. "I changed for the better. He changed into a lounge lizard."
"I think you're being too hard on him." Buffy ran her fingers through Spike's hair, freeing his curls from their gelled submission and sculpting them into spiky little tufts. "You should wear your hair like this sometimes. It's cute."
Spike sighed, the unmistakable sound of defeat. Another one bites the metaphorical dust at the hands of the Slayer. She felt a little bad for him. Behind her, Billy continued to sing about prancing and dancing.
Buffy craned her neck around to look at the video again. "Hey, don't you have a red shirt like that?"
She turned back to find Spike giving her patented eyebrow raise number three, which meant, you have got to be kidding me, Slayer. "Used to. Was evil then, remember?" He looked past her to the computer and cringed.
Buffy followed his eyes back to the monitor, where Billy frolicked in CGI snow.
"I didn't know evil had a color."
"Black, Buffy. The color of evil is black. But red is a close second." You silly bint. She knew he was thinking it, even if he didn't say it.
"Oh. Right you are, cowboy." Buffy bit her lower lip to hold back a smile. "And look at that. You're wearing all black."
"Yeah..."
She slid her hands up his arms, over his black clad shoulders. "And you're not evil. Anymore. Well, except in those ways I like."
Patented eyebrow raise number five, which meant, are you flirting with me, Slayer?
"Your point?"
"My point is, I think we'd better get you out of those clothes, ASAP. It is my mission to rid the world of evil, after all." Her hands slid slowly down his chest, over his stomach, and beneath his waistband to grab the hem of his t-shirt, which she pulled over his head in one swift motion. Before she knew it, though, he'd switched their positions so somehow it was her straddling him in the chair now.
"Still have a few moves I haven't seen, huh?"
"And don't you forget it."
"Oh, I won't. But I'll tell you a little secret," she said, as Spike began his own mission to rid her of her apparently evil shirt, unfastening the buttons of her blouse with admirable speed and concentration.
"You been keepin' secrets, love?" Her blouse fell to the floor.
"I thought the red shirt was kind of hot. Well, you, in it. But you without it? Or, say, anything?" A zipper unzipped ever so slowly, and Spike's eyes threatened to roll back in his head. "Hotter."
Buffy hiked up her skirt as Billy sang on, and Spike growled low in his throat as she shifted against him. She leaned in for a kiss, and felt him smile against her lips. "Maybe rockin' the night away's not such a bad idea after all, love."
fin