Title: Switch In Identities

Chapter Title: Green Eyed Monster

Author: Baby Blues

E-mail: purely_blissful@hotmail.com

Rated: NC-17

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, but the story is.

Summary: Angel watches jealously in the background of Caritas. A duet between the two blondes of a Shakira song.

Dedication: To Rosy O'Donnell, I’m gonna be in her show one of these days. *lol*

Excerpt:

~Spike: I missed you, pet.

~Buffy: I missed you too, Spike.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Angel took a sip of his simple yet strong scotch on the rocks. Not a complicated drink like a Margarita, nor a poor college man’s beer like a Jack Daniel’s. Just a good old scotch.



He watched the display occur between Spike and Buffy in disgust. He had entered Caritas in hopes to clear his mind of a few things, mostly of a particular vampire who he was, at the moment, ogling and glaring at. Instead, he had found her with her ‘mate.‘ She was seated right next to the bleach blond ass, talking and smiling like they were old chums . . . which they practically were. Even more than that, actually.



Angel scoffed. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. Why should he be jealous. There was nothing to be jealous about. She was a vampire . . . with a soul, but still! She was a vampire! And nothing would be able to change that. It was wrong. He was a demon hunter and demon hunters killed vampires.



He looked over at the two chatting pair, specifically the hot blonde with the slim figure, the glossy pink lips . . . the perky breasts.



Angel, he thought to himself with a shake of his head, Where are your thoughts going, buddy?



He gulped down the rest of his drink and shoved the glass away as he continued to brood in the dark corner of Caritas, out of everyone’s sight . . . and out of everyone’s mind.



“They make a pair.”



“Go away, Lorne,” Angel ordered.



“Touchy, touchy,” the green demon scolded lightly, carefully sipping his drink as he observed the pair at the bar along with the Demon Hunter, “They make quite a comfortable couple.”



“Oh, yeah. Add Druscilla in the picture and you got the Three Musketeers . . . with fangs,” he scoffed sarcastically.



“I feel a lot of jealousy emitting from you in shocking waves,” Lorne said, a bit surprised and shocked. But then gave him a knowing look. “You like her, don’t you? That’s why you’re a bit hostile about it. I can tell.”



Angel snorted. “Give me a break,” he said and gulped down another drink that a waitress placed on his table. “I do not fall for weird vampire girls who has connections with Spike.”



“I specifically remember a time when you were a bit smitten by Druscilla yourself,” Lorne teased.



Angel frowned. “That psychopath knew how to play mind games well,” he answered, “She made me believe that she was sane when she was completely out of her mind.”



“Still,” Lorne shrugged and looked back over to Buffy. “She’s pretty.”



“She’s a vampire.”



“With a soul.”



“And your point is?” Angel rolled his eyes.



“That you might have something here . . . don‘t throw it away just because you‘re not open minded,” Lorne smirked before leaving the hunter with his thoughts.



Angel stared after the green demon, and wished for an ax at that exact moment so he could just hack off its head so he didn’t have to hear anymore its cryptic quotes. He was sick of hearing riddles when he just wanted straight answers. Was that too much to ask?



The hunter suddenly scowled when the pair got up from their seats and headed straight for the stage with Lorne leading them . . .




* * * * * * * * * * * *




“It’ll be fun,” the green demon urged.



“I don’t know,” Buffy replied uneasily.



Spike shrugged. “I’m up for it,” he said and took a swig of his beer. “Like old times, pet. I know that voice ‘o yours. Ya need to start sharin’ it,” he grinned sincerely, his blue eyes slightly glazing over from the memories of their past.



Buffy let out a sigh. She remembered those memories as clearly as he did. Remembered the times when they would share a bath, mostly at Spike‘s insistence that everyone needed help with cleaning their bodies. She had always humored him . . . not that she minded, of course.



She could still smell the fine and rich oils that emitted from the water, the soft bubbles that tickled her skin, and the feel of Spike’s flesh, warm from the water, beneath her as they sang songs together . . . as they washed each other backs, and other unmentionable body parts.



“Pet?” Spike asked, “Whatdya say?”



Buffy looked into his crystalline cerulean eyes and nodded with a small smile.



“Fabulous!” Lorne exclaimed.



‘For old times sake,’ Buffy thought as Spike grasped her hand to help her down the stool. Always the gentleman, no matter how cocky or arrogant he seemed. William Broader, his human counter part, will always be a part of Spike no matter what happened to him. And that made the bleach blond vampire more than unique . . . and even more than a demon.



“Hello, and good evening,” Lorne said through the mic as Buffy stood quietly behind him. “We have a special treat for you tonight. Buffy and Spike, sire and childe, with their very first duet here in Caritas. Let‘s give it up for them,” he cheered and began clapping.



Spike gave her a reassuring smile as the spotlight shone brightly at the two of them. He grabbed a guitar and sat on a stool before finally beginning, strumming the strings with accuracy and professionalism.



Buffy took a deep breath and stepped forwards towards the mic stand, looking around the karaoke bar at the many faces of demons and humans alike. She closed her eyes and finally let the music take over.



“You’re a song, written by the hands of God. Don’t get me wrong, this might sound to you a bit odd. But you own the place, where all my thoughts go hiding, right under your clothes . . . is where I find them,” she sang loud and clear, her voice soft and billowing in the air.



Angel and the rest of the club sat in silence. No one said a word as the beautiful blond continued to sing with a sense of abandon. She was so beautiful, practically glowing in ethereal light.



“Underneath your clothes, there’s an endless story, there’s the man I chose, there’s my territory. And all the things I deserve, for being such a good girl honey,” her voice rang out, strong and true like the summer winds.



The entire club became entranced, not only because of her loveliness, but the hint of sadness that accompanied her voice. And they wondered why it was there, wondered who could have possibly placed it there.



Buffy opened her eyes and suddenly caught Angel’s gaze with her own. “Because of you . . . I forgot the smart ways to lie. Because of you, I’m running out of reasons to cry,” she sang as they stared at each other without even truly realizing it. Brown eyes met hazel ones, and it seemed as though in that exact moment, everything seemed perfect. “When the friends are gone, when the party’s over. We will still belong, to each other . . . “



Angel couldn’t help but believe in those words. Somehow . . . it seemed true . . . it sounded true. It was a foolish thought, considering the fact that they never belonged to each other to begin with.



“Underneath your clothes, there’s an endless story. There’s the man I chose, there’s my territory. And all the things I deserve, for being such a good girl honey,” she sang effortlessly along with the guitar.



Angel stared at her form, his lower jaw involuntarily dropping at the hypnotizing energy she seemed to be made out of. And for a moment, Angel forgot that she was a vampire, and unconsciously let himself fall deeper in love with her.



“I love you more than all that’s on the planet. Movin,’ talkin,’ walkin,’ breathin.’ You know it’s true, oh, baby it’s so funny, you almost don’t believe it. As every voice is hanging from the silence, lamps are hanging from the ceiling. Like a lady to her good manners, I’m tied up to this feeling . . . “



Spike’s talent in his guitar playing followed next. His fingers played over each string with precision, emitting gorgeous sounds from the instrument that he held proudly in his hands.



Buffy looked at Angel again as she sang the next and last phrases from the song. “Underneath your clothes, there’s an endless story. There’s the man I chose, there’s my territory. And all the things I deserve, for being such a good girl honey,” she sang, her gaze never wavering from his as her voice became even stronger . . . and sadder with each note, “Underneath your clothes, there’s an endless story. There’s the man I chose, there’s my territory. And all the things I deserve, for being such a good girl. For being such a good girl . . . ”



The entire bar was silent, still shocked at the power and the beauty Buffy seemed to be surrounded with. Vampire and Demon Hunter continued to gaze into each other’s eyes, lost within the other.



The thunderous clapping tore them away from their world. Buffy finally looked away and smiled at Spike who bowed and presented her with a wave if his arms. She chuckled lightly and curtseyed before gazing out into the audience to find the entire bar on their feet and cheering quite loudly.



Buffy looked towards the seat where Angel was sitting to offer him a small smile, a peace offering, but when she turned there, the young hunter was gone. She quickly scanned the bar in time to see him leave the club, his duster billowing mysteriously behind him.



She sighed.



Only time will tell if he will accept her . . . and offer a place in his heart.




Continue to Chapter 10: The Many Forms of Buffy
Back to Chapter 8: Wicked Lovers