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Buffy wanted a big hole to open right in front of her and swallow her up. Why on earth had she though that this would be a good idea? "It's no good Willow, I've got to go." She tugged at her leather bustier. She'd been right, it was too small. "Everyone's staring at me."

Willow grabbed her arm and spoke through gritted teeth. "You are not leaving me by myself. This was your idea, remember? Besides, if I fall off these shoes you are going to have to drive me to the hospital. And no one's staring at us. Heck, nobody's even asked us to dance yet. "

Buffy groaned. Lunchtime and drinking. Definitely not mixy. After they'd finished the bottle of wine a visit to a very much ruder-version of Victoria's Secret had seemed perfectly reasonable. She remembered how they'd laughed till they cried as they tried on the merchandise. Willow's face had gone the colour of her hair when the owner had casually observed that she was a natural redhead after all. Perhaps the University club hadn't been the best place to try out their new images. Most of the students were dressed casually in jeans and tee shirts. There probably was a club that catered for the way they were dressed. But this wasn't it.

"Come on Buffy." Willow tugged her on to the dance floor. It was heaving with students dancing energetically to the pulsing music. "I like this one. Let's show them what we're made of."

"If this top falls down any more then everyone will see exactly what I'm made of. I can't dance if it's going to keep trying to fall off."

"Well at least I talked you out of the peephole bra."

"Oh, and you didn't want the crotchless panties?"

"Oh my god, I can't believe I actually tried them on." Willow's face had gone decidedly pink. "When that shop assistant walked in, I nearly died."

They both exploded with laughter. Buffy leaned across to the table to retrieve her beer. She took a deep swig. She closed her eyes as the effect of the alcohol kicked in. "What, are we a couple of nuns? Oh no. No more Miss Prim and Proper. Buffy wants. Buffy gets. We eat 'em up, then spit 'em out." She flung her hair back and held out her hand to Willow. "Girl Power."

Willow high-fived her, wobbled dangerously, then grabbed her around the waist to stop herself falling. She looked up at Buffy. "I don't think this is going to work."
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"Oh my god, she's a lesbian."

Spike shrugged out of his long leather coat. He threw it across a chair and flopped down next to Xander. "There's a lesbian now? I thought we were here to spy on Buffy."

"We are . . . I mean no, that makes me sound like a stalker." Xander pointed into the heaving mass of people. "She's with a woman. Look, they're practically snogging."

Spike looked. It was all a bit soft focus without his glasses and he didn't like wearing his contacts in the smoky club atmosphere. What he could see definitely made his heart skip a few beats. "Whoa, check out the gear. Told you she wasn't a virgin."

Xander's face fell. "It's not funny. She was supposed to be having my babies," he grabbed his beer glass and took a long swig. "Not hers."

"Come on Xan." Spike was used to his friend's amateur dramatics. "She is not a lesbian, believe me. Women are just a bit more, you know, er, tactile with each other."

Xander cheered up a little. "I like the sound of that." He leaned towards Spike. "So this is how it works. You go over there and introduce me and..."

"Whoa." Spike lifted both hands. "No way, I've done my bit. Got you the names and places. Your turn now, mate." He looked back over at Buffy, who was now dancing with a man who looked like an entire rugby team rolled into one. He well over six feet tall and at least twice her width. She didn't look comfortable with it at all. Spike suddenly felt inexplicably annoyed with her. What the hell was she doing wearing that ridiculous top? It made her look like a strip-o-gram. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. Then took a long drag, wondering why he cared. Let her make a fool of herself if she liked. It was a free country after all.

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The song ended. Buffy had never felt so relieved. She'd been clamped to a sweaty chest for what seemed like an eternity and was getting a stiff neck. She smiled sweetly at the enormous man standing in front of her and pointed towards what she hoped was the ladies bathroom. "Gotta go," she mouthed.

He leaned into her and fanned her with his beer breath. "Not leaving already?" His hand made its way up her arm and started across the top of her breasts. "The night is still young and," he grinned, "I haven't shown you my Tom Jones impression yet." He wiggled his hips suggestively, and tried to press himself against her.

"Willow!" Buffy's voice came out as a high-pitched squeak She slapped her partner's hand away and looked round for her friend. She was just about visible, hemmed in between three equally burly Neanderthal -types who were trying to impress her with their bump-and -grind routine. She looked terrified. The entire university rugby team had in fact just arrived at the club, very drunk and looking for action. They'd made a beeline straight for the girls and were showing no signs of moving on. It had seemed flattering at first, but the situation was rapidly getting out of hand. They seemed to be having a competition to see who could unlace Buffy's top first and everyone of them possessed at least eight hands.

She pushed her way between them and grabbed Willow's arm. "I need to pee. Come on."

"Hey." One of Willow's partners started clapping his hands together in a slow, steady rhythm which was soon taken up by the rest of the group. They circled around the girls, blocking their escape. "The floor show's arrived. Get 'em off girls."

Willow nearly collapsed on the spot. Buffy held on to her, looking around for help, but no one seemed about to interfere. A few students stopped what they were doing and looked on with amusement, but this kind of behaviour seemed par for the course. They were trapped. Buffy stared helplessly at the leering, hulking, group.

"What's a floor show, Buffy?" Willow's voice had gone decidedly wobbly.

"It's, well it's"...Buffy caught sight of her former dance partner. He was leaning up against a pillar, a lazy, amused look on his face. It was almost a challenge.

"It's this." Buffy stepped away from Willow and slowly raised her arms above her head. She brought them down slowly amidst much clapping and cheering. Then she slid her hands down the sides of her short leather skirt, leaned forward and wiggled her chest. The men went wild. One of them started up with the stripper theme music and they all joined in. Willow's eyes were wide as saucers.

"Okay, okay." Buffy had to shout to be heard above the din. "Calm down boys. We just need to go do what girls do." She winked. "But we'll be back real soon." She took Willow's arm again as the sea of men parted for her. "So keep it hot."

A round of cheering and whistles started up again and for one moment Buffy didn't think they were going to be allowed to leave, but they made it to the door in one piece. She took a quick look back and noticed her former partner still standing by the post, watching her. What she didn't see was the young man on the other side of the room choking on his beer.

They raced to the bathroom as fast as their six inch heels would allow. Buffy leaned against the wall, closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. She was rapidly coming down from the adrenaline high that her little escapade had induced. It had been scary, but there had been one moment when she'd felt real power. Something she'd never felt before. All eyes had been on her. They all wanted, well . . . her. And for a split second, she'd had them in the palm of her hand.

"Oh, Buffy. I thought you were going to..." Willow was staring at her, wide-eyed as if she couldn't quite believe what she'd seen. "What came over you?"

"I don't know Will. That guy. He was looking at me like... Well I just wanted to prove him wrong." She walked over to the mirror and almost didn't recognise herself. Too much make-up, too little clothing. Her dad would have a fit if he saw her now. He'd finally caved in on the year abroad but he wasn't happy about it. From the way he'd talked you'd have thought England was inhabited by barbarians. But once he'd seen how determined she was, he'd insisted on paving the way for her by giving large amounts of cash to the faculty, buying her a house, a car and topping it off with a generous living allowance. She loved him to pieces, but he'd never understood her need for independence. She was nineteen and he still treated her like a little girl. Thought money could buy him her love. Silly man. Didn't he know she loved him anyway? She splashed her still-flushed face with water and patted it dry with a paper towel. All the bravado had gone and large amounts of regret and embarrassment were now descending on her like a ton of bricks. She'd never be able to show her face in here again. "Come on Will." She picked up her bag. "It's time for operation get-us-home-in-one-piece."

The bathroom door opened and Buffy peered round. "Coast's clear, come on. Are you okay to drive?"

Willow nodded. "I hardly touched my beer. You?"

"Yeah, I didn't finish mine either. Oh crap, I've left my jacket on the chair." She scanned the room, looking for the table they'd been sitting at. The rugby players seemed to have lost interest in them and had broken up into groups. Some were standing around drinking, while a few of them were giving another set of girls a hard time. "Look, you go." She could see that Willow was dying to leave. "I might just be able to grab it and get out without them seeing me."

"But the floor show. You wouldn't..." Willow was in full concerned mode now.

"No, of course not. Look, I'm in serious denial here, with the blushing and everything. That is so never going to happen again."

Willow gave her a hug. "So it's back to the nun's costumes then?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna make my daddy proud."

"And you'll go straight home?"

"Actually I was going to invite the whole rugby team round for a private orgy, that's why I'm trying to get rid of you. So go already."

She pushed Willow through the door. "Call you tomorrow. And give some thought to my offer, you know, about moving in with me."

"Will do." Willow didn't look too sure. "Bye Buffy."

She tottered toward the exit, stopped to take off her shoes and disappeared through the doors. Buffy watched till she was out of sight. She hoped she hadn't scared her off with her antics tonight. Willow seemed a nice girl and having a fellow American around really helped with the homesickness thing. Now all she had to do was find her jacket and get herself out.

She sidled round the door and scanned the room. Then she felt a hand cup her bottom and squeeze.

"I've been waiting for you darling."

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Spike had just about had enough of Xander. He'd spent the whole evening moaning about his lack of a love life and had nearly twisted his head off trying to keep tabs on Buffy and the redhead. And now he was more than a little drunk

"It's Michael Angelus. You know, rugby captain." Xander drained his glass "That thing she was dancing with. And then there was the wiggling and the arms." He dropped his head to the table and banged his forehead on it. "She'll never look at me now. He'll kill me if I go near her."

Spike took the empty glass out of his hand. "You, my man, need to go home." He looked at his watch. "It doesn't look as if Dru is going to show. Look, I'll call you a cab and give Dru a ring. See where she's got to. Did you call by home tonight?"

"What did I do wrong Spike?" Xander gave him his puppy dog look. "Is it the hair? Cause," he burped loudly, "you'd tell me if it was, wouldn't you? Best friend and all that."

Spike picked up his coat and gave Xander a push. "Door's that way. Oh and the car keys?"

Xander took out his keys and dropped them into Spike's hand. "Be good to her. She's all I've got."

"I'm walking mate," Spike pocketed the keys as they made their way through the crowd. Just wanted to make sure." He glanced back as they got to the door. "Looks like the girls have split. Pity. It looked like it was going to be quite a show."

Xander gave an anguished wail. "They're probably having hot, sweaty threesomes, foursomes, even as I speak. Maybe the whole rugby team. Oh bugger." He clamped a hand to his mouth and shot through the door.

Spike phoned for a cab while Xander threw his guts up in the car park.

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Buffy slapped Angeles's hand away. She tried to be business-like but it was difficult when you were wearing your underwear on the outside. "I think you've had too many..."

"Looking for this love?" He held up her jacket. "Shame to cover up such a great pair of tits though."

"Okay buster." Buffy snatched it and backed off. "The show's over." She turned and walked away with as much dignity as she could muster, relieved that he hadn't immediately tried to follow her. What a jerk. And how could she complain after what she'd done? She threw open the door and walked out into the dark, welcoming the cool night air on her face. She got the feeling that this year was going to be a learning experience in more ways than one. The still night was interrupted only by the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up. "Ugh, gross." She slipped into her jacket and scanned the car park for her car.

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Spike steered Xander away from the remains of his night out and pushed him down into a sitting position. He sat down at the kerb beside him. "Taxi'll be here in a minute."

Xander slumped forward, his head in his hands. "God, kill me now mate." He shook his head. "Could I be a bigger wanker?"

Spike reached for his packet of cigarettes and took one out. "'Fraid not mate. He found his lighter and flicked it several times. Bugger, it was out of fuel. He put the cigarette back into the packet. He really needed to give up smoking, but not yet. It wasn't a good time.

"So what's the deal with Dru then?"

Xander shook his head but didn't look up. "Dunno. Called by home to pick her up. Mum said she hadn't got home from college yet. They're pretty mad at you."

Spike snorted. "So tell me something new." He stared up into the sky. "I'm worried about her."

Xander looked up. He still looked very green. "We all are. Look Spike. She's my sister and all that, but I'm with you on this one. Dru can be, well you know, she's always been..."

"Yeah mate." Spike stood up as the taxi approached. "I just wish you'd told me sooner."

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Buffy clicked the remote lock on her key fob. The smart red car answered her with a series of beeps and flashing lights. It was a beauty. Sporty and low slung and much too powerful for her. She hadn't been the world's best driver in the States and having to contend with driving on the wrong side of the road had given her more than a few hair-raising moments. She'd found it waiting on the drive of the house her father had bought for her and she had to admit that it was love at first sight. As she wound her way through the parked cars, she was aware of a car accelerating away and she saw that one of the men was still by the building, talking on his phone. She quickened her pace. It was too quiet and too dark. She looked back at him but he didn't seem to have seen her. She suddenly very badly wanted to be inside her car with the doors locked. And tomorrow morning that outrageously expensive leather thing was going straight into one of those charity bags she kept finding on the doorstep. She smiled as she tried to imagine who on earth it could be donated to. Not Help the Aged that was for sure. Then she heard a cough. Her hand froze on the door handle. Someone was standing right behind her.

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Spike had finally got hold of Dru's mother. He'd lost interest in the conversation just past the bit where Dru had turned up safe and sound and was now asleep in her bed. No thanks to him of course. He held the phone away from his ear as she droned through her usual litany of veiled threats and accusations. His hair for god's sake. What did that have to do with anything? He snapped the phone shut. Silly cow. Dru was anything but her little girl. Hadn't been that for a long while. The chirping of a car's remote locking distracted him and he looked up to see Buffy making her way towards it. He'd noticed that she'd been pretty agitated when she'd come out of the club, but he'd been too preoccupied with Xander to pay too much attention. A wave of laughter and music floated through the air as the club door opened and closed and a lone figure exited. Spike put his phone in his pocket and leaned against the wall. No harm in making sure she got off safely. For all her bravado in the club, she had an air of real naiveté about her. But bloody hell, she'd looked hot in that top.

Fuck. He suddenly recognised the dark-haired man who'd just come out of the club. And who was now making his way across the car park towards her. Spike watched him for a moment then started after him. He was just in the mood for a fight.

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Buffy turned around slowly. She twisted her keys so that they were pointing upwards in her hand, but she had no idea if she could really bring herself to poke someone in the eye with them as she'd been taught. It had all looked so easy in self-defence class.

"Oh, it's you." She slid the hand with the keys behind her back. "Wha..." He was carrying a bottle of champagne. She cleared her throat, and tried again. "Do you want something?"

He nodded towards her car. "Nice wheels."

Buffy backed up to the car, groping for the door handle. "Uh, yeah." Perhaps she could jump in and drive away before he realised what she was doing. She looked at the bulging biceps, straining against his short-sleeved shirt. But then again, perhaps not.

"Actually I wanted to apologise."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She hadn't expected that.

"Yeah. I was a real jerk in there. Sort of required behaviour when you're a rugby player." He took a step towards her car and braced one arm on the roof. "So I was thinking that, maybe we could start again?"

"Er. I don't think so. You see I'm very tired and I really should be..." She tried to duck down but he brought his other arm up, effectively blocking her escape and giving her a hefty whiff of his armpits.

"This is hard for me you know." He leaned down and whispered close to her ear. "I don't usually do sorry. But for you," he waggled the champagne bottle, "I'm willing to make an exception. Want to finish that dance?"

"Hey!"

They both turned at the sound of the man's voice.

"Michael Angelus? Hey man, this is such an honour. Spike's the name. Can I have your autograph?"

Buffy's mouth fell open. Now they were being joined by the Angelus fan club? She peered round the rugby player's big body and recognised the man who'd been talking on the telephone. But he looked more familiar than that. She'd definitely seen that bleached-blond hair before.

Angelus turned slowly and placed his hands on his hips. "You being funny?"

"Well, yeah, I try. Is it working?" The blond was at least a head shorter than Angelus but he wasn't backing off. He nodded towards Buffy. "I think the lady wants to go home."

Angelus didn't move. "And I think you need to fuck off and mind your own business."

"Look." Spike began to move slowly towards Buffy. "We don't want any trouble." He looked directly at her. "This nice young lady is going to get in her car and take herself off home, aren't you?"

Buffy stared back at him. Byron. She remembered now. The seminar. She'd thought he looked hot then but up close... Those eyes, she couldn't quite make out the colour, and those cheekbones. And that hair. The way it stood up in wavy spikes. Wasn't that what he'd called himself?

"Buffy?" He tilted his head at the car. "Get in."

She didn't move.

"Please."

"Oh." She shook herself out of her reverie and scrambled for her keys. She looked back at him. It didn't seem fair to leave him at the mercy of the brute. "Can I give you a..."

"Ahem." Angelus coughed theatrically. "Am I talking to myself here?"

Spike turned, having successfully inserted himself between Buffy and Angelus. "I guess you are. It's not worth it, Angelus. You can't afford any more trouble. Now be a good little boy and run along home."

Buffy cringed. This was a rescue plan? Spike looked like he was deliberately trying to pick a fight and Angelus, from the look on his face, was going to kill him.


It was the shortest fight in history. Buffy hadn't even opened her car door when Angelus lunged at Spike. He sidestepped and Angelus spun round and brought the champagne bottle down hard on the side of Spike's head. Buffy watched, horrified, as Spike crumpled to the ground. Angelus aimed a kick at his side for good measure and Spike groaned and rolled over. Angelus turned to her, broken bottle in hand and her heart nearly stopped. He looked her up and down disdainfully and then threw the bottle aside, turned, and staggered away. Buffy's heart remembered to beat again and she flew over to Spike and dropped to her knees. He was swearing profusely, blood dripping through his clenched fingers. She tentatively reached out a hand and he stilled and opened his eyes.

They were blue and full of pain and it was her fault.

He stared at her intently for a few heartbeats, and then he said,

"Are you an angel?"

tbc.





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