CHAPTER THREE-                             SUPERMAN

Spike was wearing a tight, bright blue shirt underneath his button-down, with the famous red and gold ‘S’ symbol splayed across his chest. When he dropped his hands from his shirt, he half hid the symbol from view, only a sliver still showing. He rolled his eyes again and waited for Buffy to stop giggling.

“You… came as… Superman?” Buffy was almost gasping for breath.

Spike didn’t answer immediately, he just took a long draught from his long neck. When she finally stopped giggling, he shrugged, eyes fixed on the coaster his beer was sitting on. “It was cheap, alright?”

Buffy stared at him disbelievingly, eyebrows raised as he still refused to look at her. I am obviously spending way too much time around this vampire; she thought idly, I swear I didn’t use my eyebrows so much before.

“If money was the problem, you would have just shown him your vamp face.” Buffy pointed out. When Spike continued to stare with increasing fascination at the coaster, she nudged his knee gently with her own. The gentle contact seemed to affect him somehow, his eyes finally rising to meet hers.

“I saw you and the Bit watchin’ the movie the other night as I came up the porch to check in after I did the rounds.” He admitted with a shrug, internally slapping himself for being such an idiot. He should have just worn his bloody game face.

Buffy nodded, a small crease appearing between her eyebrows. Last Friday, Spike had patrolled for her, just so she could spend an evil-free night with Dawn. They had been watching Superman as he’d come by to let her know. A small smile played across her lips. It had been nice, and a complete surprise, having him do that for her.

“Yeah, we rented it. We used to watch it all the time when we were younger.” Buffy smiled, nudging his leg again. She didn’t know why, but Spike’s shyness was… kinda cute.

“Yeah well, me being a bloody prat and all I went out and bought the shirt for tonight.” Spike shook his head before looking up at her from beneath his brow, self-derision plain in his expression. “I guess, I thought you found the whole Super-hero look… sexy or something.”

“Hey! Bleach Boy!” Xander’s voice sang out behind them, and the vampire turned to see not only the git approaching but the whole bloody freakin’ Calvary, bar one. Dawn was still hanging around upstairs; she hadn’t even noticed Spike’s arrival. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m just passing through.” Spike shot back scornfully. “Lettin’ the Slayer know the streets are safe for all the drunken partiers and—,“ Spike half stood to go when Buffy’s hand came up to grab hold of his forearm.

“And I said he should stay.” Buffy claimed, her eyes shooting to Xander before meeting Spike’s. “After all, it’s his night off too… Besides, there’s nothing on TV tonight, anyway.” She quirked a half-smile at Spike, pulling him gently back down onto the stool next to her.

Spike was bewildered, frozen, staring at her questioningly as he sat down again. He only snapped out of it when Buffy pinched his thigh hard, and he finally zoned into Willow’s half-asked question.

“So how’ve you been, Spike?” she asked, a satisfied smile, mirrored by Tara, plastered on her face as she spoke, eyes on the two blondes.

“Busy, demon activity’s been, uh, up of late.” Spike hardly registered the witch’s question, or expression, to busy being hyper-aware of the fact that Buffy’s hand was still resting on his knee under the table. Glancing her way, he saw her sitting nonchalantly beside him, sipping on her drink and apparently actively involved in the conversation at hand.

“So, are you speaking exclusively there, or are you part of the demon collective?” Xander shot at Spike, glaring at him despite the eye patch. His arm was wrapped tightly around Anya’s waist, like some sort of macho show of superiority.

Spike’s jaw tightened, and so did Buffy’s hand slightly, a reassuring squeeze on his knee. Spike closed his eyes for a long moment, caught halfway between anger and the shock and joy he was feeling from the slightest touch. He decided against responding to Xander, and as his jaw relaxed, Buffy’s thumb began to draw soothing circles over his knee cap.

The gentlest touch and Spike already felt like he was struggling to keep control, to keep from simply grabbing her and making her his.

When no retort came, Xander seemed to believe he was somehow winning against the vamp, and studied him, disdain apparent on his face. “So what’s the costume supposed to be, Spike? I’d say ‘pain-in-the-ass-loser’, but you can’t really come as yourself.”

If it had been possible for vampires to blush, Buffy knew Spike would have, caught out again about his costume, which was strange enough as it was. So she quickly spoke for him, carefree smile still firmly in place.

“Spike’s costume was easy. All he had to do was show the bouncer his Vlad-visage and voila! Instant entry.” She shrugged to show him that the idea wasn’t Slayer-offensive, all the while running her hand in a rubbing motion over Spike’s thigh, just above his knee.

She didn’t really know why she was doing it, but it seemed… soothing to her. And it was obviously working on Spike. He seemed relaxed, although his posture reveled nothing about what she was doing. He seemed cool, comfortable and nonchalant- classic Spike.

She just felt… touched. Spike had obviously made a fool of himself, on purpose, because he thought she had a thing for men in tights and capes. It was kinda romantic. It was kind of like he was throwing himself on the proverbial sword of embarrassment just to get her to notice.

Strangely sweet for Spike.

And his hand slid over hers to rest on her thigh, she couldn’t help but smile, catching his eye and grinning.

Like she’d said before, it was nice to feel admired, desired… loved.



************************************************************************************************************************************
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I warned you about the fluff.