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Gwydd [userpic]
Chapter 4
by Gwydd (gwyddfid)
at May 3rd, 2006 (11:39 pm)

Title: Cake
By: remember_nomore & gwyddfid
Chapter: 4 of ?
Pairing: Spike/Tara (Spike/Tara/Lindsey – eventually)
Word Count: 3127
Beta: strangecreature


As Spike neared the Summers’ digs – God, can’t even bloody call it that anymore - everything inside him screamed that he’d made a big mistake by asking Tara out with him tonight. He couldn’t even remember what the bloody hell he’d been thinking when he invited her! Was he pissed? No, he didn’t even have that bloody excuse. Even if you ignored the fact that he didn’t usually spend his nights dragging human girls anywhere - unless you counted alleyways, but then again, he didn’t even do that anymore - let alone seedy demon bars, why the hell would he offer to take her to Kitten poker, of all things? He couldn’t have just gotten her a kitten? Brought it over in a sodding basket or something? Oh no, that’d be too easy, wouldn’t it?

“Fuck,” he muttered bitterly, taking one last drag off his cigarette and throwing the butt into a nearby garden.

He walked slowly up the stairs, knocked, waited and fought the urge to just fuck off when she didn’t answer after all of two seconds. Why was he here? To make himself feel better? Or worse, to make her feel better? Bloody hell, he should be wanting to eat her eyeballs not make her feel better. The sodding chip had a lot to answer for.

Then the door opened and she was standing there…and she looked…she looked good. Really good.

"Hey,” she said. She seemed happy.

All right, now don’t act like a git and bollocks this up just because you feel insecure, his mind warned. Maybe I want to fuck it up, he thought and before he knew it he was as the git inside reared it’s decidedly ugly head.

“Hope you’ve got some cash on you. Not really any point going if you don’t and it’s not like this is a date, so don’t expect me to pick up the check.”

"Yes, I w-w-wouldn't expect anything less from you, S-spike. After all picking up the check w-would make you nice. Then people'd say you'd gone all soft. Oh no, w-we can't have t-that."

Oh, so a smartarse act tonight, was it? Interesting. He was however, a might pissed off at her words, although it was mostly because part of him knew he deserved them, he was just being a git because he was starting to like her. What was so wrong with that anyway? She was pretty, funny and…Oh bloody hell! He was evil! He didn’t like her; all he was doing was trying to forget about Bu--.

No, he wasn’t even going to think that name tonight. Fuck. Spike busied himself with watching Tara as she locked the door and turned to him, ready to go on their little outing.

"Lead the way," she said, and he could have sworn that she seemed excited about all this. God, if that was the case the bird really needed to get out more.

“Well, I am evil, love,” he said hastily, following her down the stairs and pushing all thoughts of Buffy from his mind. “Just ‘cos the demon’s been muzzled,” he reminded her, tapping his temple. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t still there, thinking nasty thoughts…” Spike trailed off as she scowled.

"Oh yes, really evil. Helping Dawnie with her homework. That's... sinister,” she laughed. Bint just wouldn’t let up with bleeding smartarse comments now. "Yes, but then again I'm afraid to know w-what's in that mind of your Spike. I bet it makes the Hollywood strip look like kindergarten."

Nearly enough to piss a bloke off.

“'Sides,” he went on, changing the subject. “Bloke should never pick up the tab on the first date. You know, girl’ll be expecting kittens every week then.”

Fuck. For the life of him, he couldn’t nut out why he even joked about the fact that it was a date? It wasn’t one. In fact he had no idea what this was. No wait, yes he did, this was William coming to the surface. Soft, pathetic, annoying, sodding William who couldn’t stand to see a lady in pain, who couldn’t…God this chip, he was ready to rip it out of his head with his bare hands it was causing him so much grief.

After Dru sired him, he never once looked back, never once returned to acting like the ponce he was when he was human. She saved him, which was something he’d always known. But this chip…first Buffy, telling her he loved her and now Tara; trying to make her feel better with little furry animals. He’d never been closer to what he was when he was human. Even Dru knew it; she could smell it on him when she came back last year, hell, she saw what a lost cause he was, it was why she left, wasn’t it?

"Oh, so I guess then we're going Dutch,” she joked. But Spike was happy with that, he just thanked bloody god she was taking as a joke. “Should I b-buy you your blood and beers? Ok, I'll pay and we'll go to where you want and next I get to pick the activity."

Hmm, bloke could take advantage of that little offer.

"Game?” she asked, arching her bow at Spike and he grinned a little when he saw it. She knew how to keep a bloke on his toes, alright. Hell, just as long as she didn’t think it was a date. Although, it sorta sounded like she did…think it was a date that is. That in itself didn’t seem right, at least to Spike, as far as he knew she was s’posed to be into the fairer sex and all that.

He’d have to ask her about that later.

“I’m game for anything, love,” Spike replied, licking his lips and starting to think that this little outing of their might be more fun than he’d figured it to be. “Question is, are you?”

"I'm game. I've lost everything, Spike, I've nothing left to lose,” she said. Her voice was low and totally devoid of any emotion before walking past him into the bar. Looked like we had something in common then, Spike thought and followed her into the bar.

“Got a pretty good idea what that’s like,” he mumbled, leaning on the bar and pretending to study the bottles of booze behind it. “I know it wasn’t the same, like you said, but it was something. To me anyway.”

But he’d already promised himself that he wasn’t gong to get into that bloody topic of conversation.

“So, want a beer?” he asked, smirking slightly “Girl like you’ll be right with a bottle I’d wager.”

"Amaretto Sour,” she said, giving Spike a look full of contempt. He still thought it was funny, though, of course not as funny as her choice of bloody beverage.

“Bloody hell, Harmony used to drink that…fruity crap,” he said with disgust. ‘Course, he thought smirking, maybe that’s what her type liked. Hmm, maybe he should lay off the little barbs about her… orientation and whatnot for a while.

Oh what the hell, just one more.

“Would’ve thought you’d drink like a man. Or is it the other way ‘round, do you prefer it if they drink like men?” But before she could answer Spike gestured to the barman. “Give us a beer and an… Amaretto sour thanks, mate.” He nodded to Tara, “On her.”

She looked pissed as hell. Just what he liked to see.

"You know, Spike, I drink what I drink, I like what I like." She leaned in close to him and grabbed his crotch painfully tight; he uttered a shocked gasp, but for some bloody reason couldn’t seem to move any further. What the bloody hell? "And these," she said, smirking and leaning in close so that her lips brushed Spike’s ear. “I like these, too.”

And then she was gone, buggering off to sit at a table and leaving Spike standing, gob smacked at the bar.

“Little fireball you got there, pal,” the barman offered with a smirk.

“Oh, your powers of observation are stunning, mate,” he said sarcastically, taking an unneeded breath and trying to calm down before he followed her. Spike had to give it to her, though; she had some damn big stones, acting all tough and whatnot, but that’s all it was, an act. He could tell an act like that a bleedin’ mile away, vampires always could. It was the way they worked, see, if you smelled fear you knew you had yourself a ripe little victim and as she walked he could smell it all over her. Oh, she hid it well, but it was there.

Scared shitless and still she stood up to him. He was really beginning to like this girl.

He laid his last fifty on the bar and gestured to the barman. “Bottle of tequila, don’t bother with the glasses.” He picked up his purchase and headed into the back.

Let’s see how tough she was after spending the night nursing this baby.

Tara was leaning against the door frame, waiting for her body to stop shaking slightly and she wondered what possessed her to talk like that to Spike. "What took you so long?" She smirked as she covered up her nerves, she waited for him to go ahead of her, following him like a good little girl. He kinda liked that. S’pose introductions were in order.

"Tara,” he said, getting her attention. “This is Clem, and...”

"Mort," the ugly bastard sitting next to Clem grumbled.

"Mort," Spike repeated, looking at him and raising an eyebrow. "Clem, Mort; Tara," he said gesturing to Tara and pulled a chair out from under the table for Tara before taking seat at the table himself. "Enough of the chitchat, let’s play."

But no sooner had his ass hit the chair, they started bickering over antes; Spike took the opportunity to have a word in the Witch’s ear. "Got this for you, pet," he said with a smirk, putting the bottle down in front of her. "Seeing as how you're serious about tonight and all. Word of warning though; these guys are good. So don't get cocky,” he said, looking her up and down with a smirk. “…er"

She gave Spike a look before taking a swig. He had to give it to her, he thought, watching as she made a disgusted face, she really wasn’t some boring shrinking violet. He’d always thought she would be, and maybe there’d been times when that’d been her thing, but right now…well, she was starting to look like one hell of a woman to Spike.

"Hmmm. So Spike, these cards are all Ace's. Does that mean they count as ones?" Tara smiled sweetly at him, the taste of the tequila still burning in her mouth. She kept quiet that she knew more than enough about poker, she learned from watching her father all those years back home. Spike didn’t need to know that, he seemed to enjoy that she was learning from him.

"Ah, pet," he said smiling through gritted teeth, "Shut the bloody hell up and don't tell the other players what my cards are." He slid his chair away from her and muttered. "Or I'll bloody disembowel you."

"No you won't. You like me; I'm fun to be around,” she murmured softly, giving him a winning smile even though everything felt like it was falling apart inside.

Spike scowled at her and settled into the game, and as things progressed and Tara hustled the living fuck out of each and every one of them, things just got more and more interesting.

As the night progressed Tara got more and more drunk, but as far as Spike was concerned, that was a bit of a plus. He couldn’t even be mad at her, not when she’d done such a good job of robbing them all of everything they’d brought to the table.

Of course, then things started to get a might ugly. Well, uglier as far as Spike was concerned.

“The girl. She cheats!!” piped up Mort, hauling his ugly carcass off his seat and shaking the table.

“Hey hang on a minute, mate,” Spike said, standing himself and looking him in the eye… literally, because there was just one huge big green one in the middle of his forehead. Bloody hell what an ugly sod. “That’s no way to treat a lady,” he continued calmly. “Especially one that just beat you fair and square.”

Without saying anything else, Spike started loading kittens into the basket, squirmy little buggers didn’t want to go in but they had to be quick, the natives were getting restless. “Think it might be time to quit while we’re ahead, love,” Spike said to Tara, eyeing Mort.

But Tara was a might distracted. "Kittens?!" She said, clearly outraged, seeing the kittens for the first time. Well what did she think they played for? Bloody pennies?

"You're not goin anywhere with them," Mort snorted, moving to stand over Tara like he was the big bad demon of the hour. Stupid sod, Tara could've been Spike’s girl for all he knew... not that she was, yeah, in which case the ugly sod could say whatever the hell he wanted to her.

"Do you really want to mess with a witch?" she said, arching a cocky brow and standing her ground. This should be good.

"Wouldn't give her an excuse, Mort old pal," Spike added, smirking. “She's been looking to turn some unsuspecting half-wit into a toad for a couple of days now.” Spike stood back and crossed my arms, looking at Tara. "Go on, love," he said, grinning. "Give him what for."

"I w-will not t-turn him into a toad. I think we should go,” her voice was low and she felt her nerves spike even higher.

“Gonna back down I see…” Spike started before he knew what she was doing. Tara started giggling like the girl she was and hauling him outside. He hardly had time to grab the bottle of booze before the two of them were out the back door with a basket full of kittens and an angry demon with a grudge against them left inside.

"Guess you really can turn a kitten into a tiger,” she said, but really all Spike was thinking about at that moment was Tara’s warm fingers wrapped around his hand. He looked down at it; her hand clutching his. She was so warm…

Oh, bloody hell, you could tell he hadn’t gotten any for a long time if he was obsessing over how warm some girl he barely knew was…but she was...

Cute too, in a tough kinda way…but sweet like… Oh bugger this. There was no way he was going down this road again. No. Way.

Spike pulled his hand out of her grip and stopped dead in their tracks. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he spat angrily, “Pulling a bloke away from a fight like that? Want them to think I’m some sort of bloody poof I s’pose.” Spike took a gulp from the bottle and tried not to think about how warm the patch of skin where her shoulder met her neck would be. “I was hoping for a good fight, blow off some steam, y’know? Can’t fight anything but demons these days.”

"Fine, go back in there. I'm sure the tiger would love to get a nice piece of Spike," Tara replied smirking slightly and now Spike was completely bloody confused! What the hell was all this about? He thought, eyeing her suspiciously as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and started moving in on him, backing him against the nearby alley wall. Okay, what the--?

"What? D-do I have something on my neck?" she said, her voice low as she licked her lips and looked up at him.

"I bet it's been a while, huh?” she breathed, leaning in close, so close that Spike could smell her and hear her blood pumping through her veins and suddenly all he could do was stare at her throat and….

"Maybe someday I'll be brave enough to do body shots...you could lick the salt off my neck"

Spike felt his cock hardening. She wanted it, he could take whatever he wanted from her and the chip probably wouldn’t even so much as spark. He felt his nostrils flare and something shadowy and carnal, a feeling that’d been so long denied, to him twisted in his stomach. He watched closely as she took a mouthful of tequila and spilt the majority of it down her front.

"Oops…" She giggled and started to back away, but that was it, between Spike’s throbbing cock and the smell of her…and God all he could do was watch as that droplet of tequila traced the lush curve of her cleavage. His resolve snapping, he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her against the wall, pressing his body against hers and inhaling the sweet scent of her hair.

Bloody hell…

“You’ve already had your hands on my body, little girl,” he whispered, his lips moving softly against Tara’s ear, her heart pounding loudly. “Without permission I might add. You know, a lesser man would take advantage of you in this situation. Get his own back, so to speak.”

Spike leaned back, tilting his head and peering at her eyes. She was off her face, didn’t have a clue what she was doing. Part of him wanted to rip her panties off right there in the alleyway and sink every part of himself into her, but a bigger part of him - the part that seemed to get more insistent everyday – knew it would be wrong. Not this girl.

“But this isn’t what you want,” he said softly, taking another step back and away from her. “Or you certainly won’t in the morning. I can see it now, you’ll tell droopy boy and he’ll come after me and who needs that kind of hassle? Nah, think its best I take you home, pet,” he finished, walking towards the exit of the alleyway before turning and adding. “We can have a rematch, if you like. Winner gets to do a body shot off the loser,” he smirked, turns out he just couldn’t resist and thoughts of exactly where he’s sprinkle that salt flooded his mind. “If you’re still in the mood that is.”

"Thanks,” Spike heard her mumble as she came up behind him, following along like a good little puppy. “For tonight, I had fun. Oh, and I wouldn't tell anyone about anything with us. I like it like that,” she smiled, gripping his forearm for support to keep herself from tripping over her own feet.