Concession Stand Snack
"Why am I here again?" Spike asked as he led the way down the back row.
"Because Cordelia sent us six tickets and Riley was busy, " Buffy answered him.
Spike snorted derisively at Superpansy's name. He flopped down into a thinly-padded folding seat
and propped his foot up on the back of the seat in front of him. Buffy sat down beside him, then
Willow, Giles, Anya and finally Xander filled in the remaining assigned seats.
The 500-seat, little theater was rapidly becoming full. It was opening night of Laura, a mystery in
which Cordelia had won the starring role of a wealthy socialite who had been supposedly murdered.
It had come as a surprise when Giles had received the tickets -- both the brunette's role and that she
sent the tickets at all.
Xander had pointed out that Queen C probably wanted everyone there to rub her success in their
faces. The friends readily agreed with him, and they decided to allow their one-time friend gloating
Thus, on Friday night, they piled in Giles's new Blazer and drove down to Los Angeles. Buffy had
invited Spike to come along only because the blond vampire had shown up at the ex-Watcher's as
they were leaving. She told herself it had nothing to do with the disappointed look she'd caught as
he'd turned to leave.
Buffy shivered when a gust of cold air hit her as she leafed through the program. She looked up and
scowled. "Great. I'm right under the air conditioning," she grumbled. She glanced over at the blond
vampire sitting beside her. "Spike, gimme your jacket."
Spike looked up from his own program. "Do what?"
"Give me your coat. I'm cold," Buffy said.
He arched a brow at her demand. "Do you think I care?"
"Come on, Spike, you don't even feel the cold," Buffy said. She rubbed her bare arms and shivered
again. She gave him her best defenseless innocent-girl look. "I'll even say 'please.'"
"That look isn't going to work, pet. I know for a fact you're anything but innocent," Spike told her.
He stood up and began to remove his duster. "If I let you use this as a blanket, you're going to owe
me..." His lips curled up in a leer as he let his sentence trail off.
Buffy debated briefly as to whether she wanted to be indebted to him or suffer frostbite instead. The last time
he'd collected on an IOU, she hadn't been able to sit down for an hour because parts of her that had
never been touched before were touched quite intimately. Then again, the small pain and discomfort
had had a surprisingly pleasurable side-effect.
She shivered again and made her decision. "Fine, I'll owe you," she said. "Now hand it over before
I go into cryo-freeze."
Spike blatantly licked his lips in a predatory manner as his eyes raked over Buffy's body, stopping
purposely to ogle the twin points her nipples made against her thin, spaghetti-strap shirt, attesting to
Buffy glared at him and snatched the leather duster out of his hands. "Pig."
"If you wore more clothes, Slayer, you wouldn't be cold," Spike said, flopping back down into his
"At least I'm dressed up," Buffy told him. "Just like Willow and Giles and Anya and Xander...well, sort of
"It's not like I had fair warning that I'd be coming to the theater," he said.
"You wouldn't have dressed up anyway," she said pointedly.
Buffy rolled her eyes and pulled the duster around her like a blanket. The scent of the old leather,
tobacco and maleness tickled her senses. The material was soft and well-worn, and it caressed her
bare skin like a lover's comforting touch.
She moaned softly in pleasure as she pulled the duster even closer around her bare shoulders, the
long length of it brushing over her bare legs. Now she knew why Spike was always wearing the
coat. If it was hers, she'd never take it off. In fact, she might never give it back again.
A small smile played over Spike's lips as he watched the Slayer close her eyes, a blissful expression
on her face as she snuggled under his duster. He heard her almost inaudible sound of
satisfaction and, for an instant, he wished it was him that had made her look so content.
The lights lowered and the blond vampire dragged his attention away from Buffy, slightly disgusted
with himself. Sex, he told himself. It's only sex.
The play started as a few latecomers trickled into the theater. Buffy began to swear under her breath
as a very tall, very broad, linebacker-type sat right in front of her.
She tried leaning as far over towards Willow as she could, but the overly large guy put his big, beefy
arm around the girl sitting beside him, pulling her closer and thus blocking Buffy's view. The
Slayer then leaned on the armrest separating herself and Spike, and her swearing grew more colorful
as a curly mop of hair prevented her from seeing the stage.
"Thanks for the last row tickets, Cordelia," she muttered unhappily.
"What's wrong, ducks?" Spike asked, leaning closer to her. "You're wiggling around like your
knickers are riding up."
"I can't see," Buffy said quietly.
Buffy shot him a glare. "And I'd like to watch the play. I didn't come all this way to stare at the
back of someone's head for two hours."
"Want to switch?" Spike asked.
She blinked once in shock. "You'd do that?"
"I wouldn't have asked otherwise, Slayer," he replied in exasperation.
Buffy looked at the person sitting in front of him and shook her head with a sigh. "It still wouldn't
matter. I'm too short. The second she moved I wouldn't be able to see again."
Spike frowned at the woman seated in front of him and quickly made a decision. A happy Slayer
was an easily-shaggable Slayer. "Come here," he ordered quietly, patting his thigh.
Buffy looked at him in question. "What?"
He sighed heavily. "Come. Here," he repeated slowly.
"You want me to sit on your lap?"
"No, I want you to suck me off in front of your chums," he replied with a short clip to his words,
indicating he was getting ticked off.
"No need to get pissy," Buffy snapped. "I just wanted to make sure that's what you meant."
"Yes it's what I meant," he said. "Now, get your sweet arse over here before I change my mind."
Buffy huffed at him, but she moved anyway. His bare arms went around her waist, pulling her
snuggle back against him, the curve of her backside molding to the front of him. He was sitting tall
in his seat, allowing her to lean her head back against the crook of his shoulder with ease. She
pulled the duster back up over her body and ignored the fact that she could feel a bulge growing
bigger and harder against her clothed backside.
The Slayer was happy to find that she could see quite well and her heart swelled slightly at Spike's
thoughtfulness. "Thanks," she whispered.
Spike grunted something that sounded like "you're welcome" but she couldn't be sure. Out of the
corner of her eye, she saw Willow giving her a perplexed look and Buffy turned her head to mouth
that she couldn't see. The redhead nodded once and went back to watching the play.
Buffy turned her attention to the stage and was wrapped up in the story within minutes. It didn't
hurt that the actor playing the Detective was a megga-hottie. When Cordelia came on stage, the
Slayer could easily see why her former quasi-friend was the titular character, Laura -- a stuck-up
socialite with a spine of steel and a hidden heart.
Buffy didn't realize how involved she had gotten in the unfolding plot until she was yanked back to
reality with a gasp as a strong finger brushed against her sex. She hadn't felt Spike's hand move
from around her waist to slip under her skirt and push aside her panties. The tip of his index finger
traced an erotic pattern in her nest of curls and her mouth opened in shock.
"Spike," she squeaked softly.
"Spread your thighs for me, luv," Spike whispered in a low, seductive voice near her ear. "Please."
It was the please that had her opening her legs wider for him, her skirt riding up higher as she moved
under the duster. She felt Spike's other hand join his first one near the apex of her thighs and he
used it to hold her panties to one side.
Spike's playing finger delved into her mound, combing the hair that he knew to be a dark brown in
color free from her feminine folds. He gently stroked her soft hidden lips, lightly running the tip of
his finger around her most sensitive button of flesh. He continued to tease her until she wiggled her
hips back against the erection he'd had since she'd slid onto his lap.
Buffy pressed her lips together tightly when she felt Spike's finger slide deep inside of her moist
channel. Her vaginal muscles clenched instinctively around him and she inhaled a shaky breath
through her nose as he curled his finger upwards. Unbelievable pleasure shot through her when he
rubbed the upper wall of her inner core, stimulating her g-spot. She barely managed to hold back a
moan as he continued to torture her that way.
"You're so hot," he whispered silkily by her ear. "So wet."
She whimpered in the back of her throat as a second finger joined the first inside of her body. He
began to slide the digits in and out of her, his thumb finding her distended clit with ease. He pressed
down on her clitoris and started to massage the super-sensitive pearl in a circular motion, causing
her to close her eyes tightly as completely wonderful sensations washed over her.
"I want to be inside you, Slayer," he told her quietly in a deep voice tinged with tightly restrained
passion, his fingers and thumb moving faster with each word. "I want bury myself deep inside your
softness. I want to feel your inner muscles quivering around my aching cock like they are around
my fingers. I want to hear you gasp and moan and whimper my name out loud as I thrust in and out
of your slick core. I want to be anywhere but in this bloody theater surrounded by hundreds of
people touching you under the cover of darkness and my duster."
Buffy bit down hard on her lower lip as she exploded into orgasm from his touch and his words. He
had released the edge of her panties with his other hand and had wrapped his arm tightly around her
waist to hold her firmly to him. Her fingernails sank into his forearms as she tried not to buck
wildly as her climax went on and on.
Finally, he moved his hand away from her still-quivering pussy and brought it out from under the
duster. The perfect concession stand snack, he thought, before he sucked his fingers into his mouth,
inhaling her musky scent and tasting her juices that clung to his digits. His cock throbbed
uncomfortably beneath the denim of his trousers and he wished that they could leave so he could
fuck her long and hard.
The lights came up, startling both Buffy and Spike, the former slamming her legs shut under the
duster. She felt her face flaming and knew that if anyone looked at her they would know exactly
what Spike had been doing. She scrambled to her feet, held the duster in front of her and quickly
headed down the row away from her friends to another exit from the auditorium.
Spike pressed the heel of his palm to his erection, trying to adjust himself enough that he could stand
up and walk somewhat normally. He glanced over at Willow two seats away, who was gathering
her purse together. "It's not over already, is it?" he asked.
"Intermission," Willow said. "You have fifteen minutes if you want to smoke."
Fifteen minutes, he thought, rising to his feet and heading for the same exit that the Slayer had left
through. Fifteen whole minutes to drag Buffy back behind the theater and shag her against the
building's wall. He could do that.
When Spike exited the auditorium, he scowled angrily. People in various modes of fancy dress
milled about the lounge area. Finding his woman in the crowd would eat up valuable sex time. He
growled and began to stalk through the crowd, his eyes searching for the Slayer.
Instead, he found his Sire.
"Oh bugger," Spike swore when he saw Angel standing beside a man who was as tall as the poof,
oval glasses adorning his face. Angel turned his gaze right to the blond vampire and Spike began to
swear more viciously.
Turning, Spike shoved his way through the crowd towards the clearly marked restrooms. He rapidly
entered the men's room and went right to the sink. He turned the hot water on full blast and thrust
his hands under the scalding stream, quickly trying to wash away Buffy's unmistakable scent.
In the back of his mind, he wondered why he was scrubbing his skin off rather than rubbing his
affair with the Slayer in Angel's nose...quite literally, if he didn't wash his hands. He tried to tell
himself it was because he didn't want her to stop spreading her thighs for him, which she would do
in an instant if Angel found out. A little voice laughed raucously in his head at that reasoning.
Spike had just finished drying his hands when Angel entered the men's room. He straightened up to
his full height and pasted a cocky grin on his face. "Angel, long time, no see."
"Spike," Angel said through clenched teeth. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm the new towel boy," Spike answered sarcastically. "What do you think I'm doing here? I'm
catching the show."
Angel narrowed his eyes at the blond. "Does it look like I just got turned to you?"
Spike rolled his eyes and headed past his Sire towards the door. Angel grabbed his shoulder and
Spike glared at the dark-haired vampire. "What are you going to do? Stake me right here?"
Spike shrugged Angel off and strode out of the restroom. He knew the older man was following
right behind him and he sighed. It looked as though shagging his Slayer was out of the program.
"Spike, there you are," Buffy said, coming towards Spike from the right, his duster draped around
her small body. "Willow told me in the bathroom that you were heading out for a cigarette and I
realized that I had them."
Buffy froze, her eyes growing wide when she heard the familiar voice. She turned her head slowly
and saw the dark-haired vampire that had once been the center of her thoughts and dreams.
Spike saw Buffy pale, her eyes darting to him before returning to his Sire. "Um, I...uh..."
"It's no big deal, Slayer," Spike said abruptly, coming to her rescue. The terrified look she gave
him made him both angry and hurt at the same time. Didn't she trust him?
"No big deal?" Angel said.
Spike turned to his Sire and shook his head. "Willow went and screwed up another one of her
soddin' spells a short while back, making me and the Slayer think we were engaged." He gestured
to Buffy. "The little chit thought you'd get all buggered if you ever found out about it."
"Angel, I suggest that we take our seats again...oh, hello Buffy," Wesley said, joining the small
"Wesley, hi," Buffy said in a thickly strained voice. "What a surprise to see you here."
"Yes, well, Cordelia threatened me with something I'd rather not repeat if I did not attend," Wesley
said, a small smile tugging up the corners of his lips.
Angel chuckled, which caused Buffy and Spike to swerve their gazes to the vampire in shock. He
gave them both a half-smirk. "What she was going to do to Wesley was nothing compared to what
she promised to do to me."
"I don't know about you, Angel, but I envy Dennis," Wesley said. The lights flickered twice and
the former Watcher straightened his tie. "I think that is our cue. Buffy, it was lovely to see you
"You, too," Buffy said.
"I'd better go," Angel said, his voice softening as he looked at Buffy. "I hope you're doing okay?"
"I'm fine," Buffy said. "Everybody's fine...and Spike makes a good neutered house pet."
"Sod off," Spike growled at her.
Angel nodded. "Well, maybe I'll see you after the show."
"Maybe," Buffy said. She gave the dark-haired vampire a strained smile before he walked back
towards the auditorium. The second Angel was completely gone from her sight, she turned to Spike
and threw her arms around him.
Spike blinked in shock, his arms automatically coming around her to hold her close. All of his plans
to chew her out for not trusting him vanished abruptly as she spoke.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "I know how much you probably wanted to rub Angel's nose in
our...whatever it is we're doing, but you didn't. Thank you for not making him hurt."
Buffy pulled back only to kiss him soundly on the lips. She looked into his blue eyes and smiled
sincerely. "Thank you, Spike. It means more to me than you can imagine."
Spike tried to shrug off the strangely proud feeling that filled him. "Yeah, well, I'm horny and I
figured I'd never get laid if I opened my gob to tell peaches that we're shagmates."
"Well, when we get home, I'll fix that rather," she paused as she rubbed her hips forward against him, "large
problem for you. Sound good?"
Spike dropped his hands down to her duster-covered ass, pulled her tight against him, and suggested
in a velvety voice, "We could always skip the next act..."