“Do you want me to pick you up? My mom gave me the car tonight.” Willow’s voice crackled a little over the cell phone.
Buffy continued her inspection of her closet while feeling relieved her friend could drive her. After the incident a couple of nights ago, Buffy was reluctant to be walking alone. Hell, she’d almost resorted to asking her mother if she’d drive her to the Bronze to avoid walking.
“Yeah, that’d be great,” Buffy said, hoping Willow could hear the gratefulness in her voice.
“Cool!” Willow’s voice was gleeful. “I’ll pick you up in an hour!”
They both said their mutual goodbyes then Buffy clicked her phone off, shaking her head a little with a smile on her lips. She loved Willow’s infectious enthusiasm for life, something Buffy couldn’t help but want a piece of.
While leafing through her clothes, Buffy’s mind wandered back to the events of the afternoon from the race and the unexpected semi-…what was it anyway? A truce? Buffy mused, trying to find the right word to describe her odd deal with Spike.
He seemed to volley between hating her and grudgingly accepting her and Buffy couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated. Then again, she pointed out to herself, she’d only been there for a week, it’s not like she should expect him to sort out his feelings for the virtual stranger in his house in seven days.
Feelings. That word stuck in Buffy’s head like gum. Not that there were any feelings of the non-hatey variety. Okay, maybe hatey was harsh, they more resembled dislike. But still, dislike was a far cry from those kinds of feelings. The ones that made your stomach flutter and pulse quicken. The kind that made you want to be close, just to brush your arm against theirs.
With a sigh, Buffy finally decided on a simple pair of jeans and deep green tank top embellished on the V of the neck line and on the bottom. Her shoes consisted kitten heeled flip-flops.
She left her hair down, though there wasn’t much. Definitely growing her hair out, she determined.
And as for Spike? Spike who? Tonight, Buffy thought firmly, was about helping Willow with the band guy and having fun with friends.
The doorbell rang, snapping her out of her thoughts. She paused, listening for the tell-tale signs of a door being open and her mother greeting the newcomer warmly. “Hello, Willow. Are you here to see Spike?”
Buffy flew down the stairs at the mention of the redhead’s name, nearly colliding into Joyce.
“Hey Buffy,” Willow greeted, looking rather nervous. “Ready?”
“Oh!” Joyce glanced between the two girls. “I didn’t know you were friends with Willow, Buffy.”
The blonde nodded. “Yep. I’ll be back around…” she glanced at Willow who filled in, “nine-thirty.”
Joyce nodded in conformation. “Have fun,” she said, “see you later, Buffy. Nice to see you again, Willow. Tell your mother I said hello.”
“Will do,” Willow replied before being ushered out the door by Buffy.
After clicking the door shut, Buffy exhaled, partly out of relief and partly out of anticipation. “Sorry. Parent integrations are weird.”
Willow shrugged gamely. “I don’t mind. I like Joyce.”
“Hey Buff!” Xander yelled from the backseat, waving an arm out the window, Anya by his side.
“Hi!” Anya called out as well as Buffy slid into the front seat. “You look very nice today.” Before Buffy could thank her, she added, “But I really liked that leather skirt you wore the other night. Do you think I could borrow it sometime?”
“Sure,” Buffy replied easily and buckled her seatbelt. She’d sat with all three of them everyday at lunch along with Wes, Tara and Fred and enjoyed the group immensely. They were funny and sweet, each with their own quirks. Fitting in had never been so simple for her before. It was a nice feeling.
Willow was an extremely cautious driver, one who paused at old railroad crossings, religious with her speed and exaggeratedly glanced around her at any given time. This of course meant a three minute drive turned into a seven minute one.
“Hallelujah!” Xander cried out, bowing to the ground as Willow pulled her keys out of ignition.
“I was not that bad,” she huffed.
“No,” Anya corrected, her voice oddly chipper. “You were much worse.”
Even Buffy had to snicker, though quickly stopped at Willow’s sullen face. “Well,” Buffy commented lamely, “at least we know we won’t get into any accidents.”
Anya and Xander chortled and finally Willow relented, a reluctant smile on her lips. “Fine,” she mock-pouted, “make fun of the driver. Just wait till you don’t have a ride home.”
Buffy giggled a little as they stood in line, money in hand. The cover wasn’t particularly expensive or anything. In fact it was more of an annoyance since there wasn’t a special list.
The four paid their dues and went inside and headed straight for the nearest available chairs over in the back. Instantly the chatter resumed, mostly Anya telling stories about her job at the Magic Box, a funky shop on Main Street, and some sex-related topic.
“All I’m saying is blow jobs are hard and guys should be more thankful,” Anya insisted while the others looked away, embarrassed.
“Ahn, come on,” Xander said gently, trying to persuade his sorta-girlfreind from the sensitive topic.
“Well you are thankful,” Anya corrected herself, blithely ignoring Xander’s not-so-subtle hints. “But I’m saying there are other men out there who think women actually enjoying going down on them, like they receive some kind of pleasure from it. Are they insane?”
Buffy stifled her giggles at Anya’s rant. Though, she had to admit, Anya made a point. While her own experience wasn’t a considerable amount, Buffy knew guys who didn’t believe in reciprocity. The only man who had ever…Buffy stopped her train of thought stone cold. She instantaneously tuned into the conversation once again.
“…he is!” Willow was hissing in her ear. Following the redhead’s gaze, Buffy immediately understood her whispered words. On stage there was a shortish, spiky haired, serious looking guy on stage, guitar in hand. His concentration was on his fingers moving over the strings while the lead singer, a guy Buffy didn’t recognize, was singing into the microphone, watching the crowd.
“He’s cute,” Buffy replied, her gaze returning to the shorter man, presumably Oz.
Willow let a little sigh. “I like his hands,” she whispered, her eyes still on Oz. “And his cool hair. It changes, you know. Sometimes it’s blue or brown or-or even blonde!”
Buffy smiled at her friend. “You’ve got it bad,” she half-teased, making Willow’s face match her hair.
“No,” Willow replied indignantly, “I just like his hands.” Her smile betrayed her protest and Buffy nudged her playfully.
Anya noticed their whispered conversation and leaned forward. “What are we looking at?” She asked, surveying the mass.
“Willow’s lover,” Buffy replied with a straight face and Willow let out a choked sound of objection, her face purple.
Anya’s own face brightened. “Willow has a lover? Who?” She demanded.
“Will-huh? Love-huh?” Xander said confused, his brow furrowed.
“Willow. Lover,” Anya filled him in as she half-stood, peering over heads to find Willow’s supposed beau.
The redhead was still opening and closing her mouth, unable to form words as her face darkened further.
“Relax,” Buffy said, patting the redhead’s arm. “I’m just joking. Willow, take a deep breath before your heart stops.”
Willow complied and finally managed to say her words. “He’s not my lover! He’s just…” her face went dreamy, “Oz.”
“Oz?” Xander interjected, his gaze flickering upstage. “As in Oz the cool, calm, one-worded senior who is currently on stage?”
Involuntary, all eight eyes stared up at said guy. “Yep,” Buffy confirmed for Willow while she kept her gaze on the band.
“Well,” Anya began, taking a sip of her drink. “I think that’s great. Now Xander and I have someone to go on double…” Anya cut herself off, turning uncharacteristically quiet.
Xander cleared his throat nervously as Anya fiddled with her straw. The table plunged into silence.
“Well, um, I’m gonna go dance,” Willow said loudly and glanced at Buffy, who stood up.
“Yep,” Buffy said cheerfully, “dancing is me.”
The two girls left the couple behind and merged onto the dance floor with the hundreds of other bodies.
“Wow,” Buffy said into Willow’s ear, “that wasn’t totally awkward.”
Willow nodded sympathetically. “Sometimes that happens. One of them will mention something of the dating variety and…”
“Awkwardness ensues,” Buffy finished with a nod of understanding.
Instead of mulling over the antics of Xander and Anya’s relationship, the pair started dancing, Willow mostly keeping her eyes on the band and shuffling her feet nervously.
“Hey,” Buffy said suddenly. “Where are Fred, Wes and Tara?”
“Oh, Fred has family in town, Wes is stuck with homework and Tara…” Willow trailed off, frowning. “I’m not sure where she is. Maybe with her aunt or something.”
For a moment a brief look of guilt flashed across the redhead’s face before morphing into confusion. “She didn’t call me after school.”
From what Buffy gathered, Tara had lived with her aunt for nearly six months now after moving away from her overbearing family after her mother had died. Buffy couldn’t comprehend the pain Tara must have gone through considering how close the mother and daughter were. For a relatively shy girl, she was strong, Buffy noted.
As the song came to an end, Buffy and Willow slowed down their dancing, watching as the lead singer Devon said goodbye for the night.
“We’re The Dingoes Ate My Baby and we’re here every Thursday night,” he intoned and with a wink, jumped off the stage.
They continued to watch as the band packed up their equipment and the DJ started up the music again. The band was nearly off stage when, much to Buffy’s surprise, Gunn and Spike appeared, taking some of the heavier items.
“What’s Spike doing here?” Buffy wondered out loud.
“Oh, sometimes they help with loading and unloading the van. Didn’t you know he was going to be here?” Willow asked.
Then something occurred to the blonde. “That’s it!” she exclaimed. “That’s your in!”
Willow gave her a confused look. “Huh? My in to what?”
“To Oz,” Buffy explained eagerly. “You’re friends with Spike and Gunn, right? So, talk to them and then you’ll be talking to Oz.”
Willow visibly shrank back. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like Spike or Gunn and I are best buddies. We’re more friends indirectly.”
Buffy grabbed Willow by the arm. “Trust me. This will help.” When she still looked doubtful, Buffy added, “I’ll come with you, I promise.”
“Okay,” Willow allowed, fidgeting with the black top Buffy had insisted she wear. Her other hand went up to fiddle with a strand of her fiery hair.
With not-so-gentle tugs, the blonde managed to drag Willow with her to the back and then pushed her in front despite her protest.
“Hey guys,” Buffy greeted brightly and all heads turned to her. “What’s up?”
Willow added her own meek wave as the band continued to dumbly stare at them. Only Oz’s eye seemed to spark with intelligence.
“Hey Summers,” Spike drawled and Buffy reluctantly dragged her eyes to him.
“Hey Spike,” she replied tightly then remembered their…alliance. “Um…how are you?”
“Good,” Spike responded, shifting a little as he remembered their deal as well. “You?”
“Great,” Buffy said with a flash of a smile. Willow stood by her side anxiously as Oz walked over.
“Hey, Willow right?” His voice was low and gravely and had Willow swooning.
“Yep!” Willow responded with a jerk of her head. “A-And you’re Oz?” Her words were more of a question than statement.
“Yeah,” Oz replied and a smile tugged on the corner of his mouth. “What did you think?”
The creases in Willow’s brow deepened for a moment. “You mean about the music?”
Buffy watched the exchange happily, noting how Willow’s body was relaxing, her smiles easier.
“So, Buffy,” Gunn began as the band went out to start loading. “How’s Sunnydale treating you?”
She smiled. “It’s good. I’ve mostly…” Her words were cut off by a horrible shrill voice squealing Spike’s name.
“Spikey!” Harmony cried again joyously and jumped into her “boyfriend’s” arms.
“Er, Harmony,” Spike looked less than thrilled to see the ditzy blonde. “What are doing back here?” He asked, his voice harsh.
“To see you, silly.” Harmony replied, obliviously to Spike’s annoyance.
He ran his hand through his bleached locks. “Right. Um, I just gotta load this stuff up.”
The tension in Spike’s body was palpable as he picked up the amp and walked out to the car, Harmony on his heels. The blonde threw Buffy a death-glare, as if she’d done something wrong.
“That is my cue to leave,” Buffy mumbled after the blonde disappeared.
“Ditto,” Gunn said under his breath. “I’ll see ya later,” he said to Buffy before grabbing a box and taking out to the van.
Her gaze flickered to Willow and Oz who was both happily discussing some smarty-pants thing. She was fairly certain she heard the word ‘modem’ in there.
“Hey Wills, I’m gonna go back out,” she informed the redhead, who just nodded in acknowledgment.
As she left the room, Buffy could hear Spike’s solemn voice, low against Harmony’s prattle. “We need to talk.”
Gee, Buffy thought sarcastically, wonder what that’s all about. Without another glance behind her, Buffy made her way back to the table where Anya and Xander were sitting, no longer distant but cuddled together.
“Hey,” Xander said in surprise, untangling himself from Anya a bit. “You’re back,” he paused, “without Willow.”
Buffy smiled happily. “She’s talking to Oz,” she informed the pair.
“Good,” Anya said firmly and then turned to Xander, tugging on his shirtfront. “You promised me we would dance now.”
Xander stood up immediately, holding his hand out for Anya, who took it graciously. “Wanna come?” He offered but Buffy declined, not wanting to intrude.
“I’m kinda thirsty right now,” Buffy excused herself, pointing to the water in front of her.
Watching Xander and Anya dance, was an interesting sight. Anya pulled off her dance moves gracefully, her body wriggling to the beat. Xander, on the other hand, was a floppy, loosed-armed dancer who kept bumping into nearby groups.
“Hey,” A voice said, sounding pleasantly surprised, behind her and Buffy spun around to see Riley of all people standing there, a cup in hand.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Riley remarked than his face went blank. “Sorry, corny line.”
Buffy couldn’t help but smile. “You’re forgiven.” Glancing around him, Buffy questioned, “Who’re you here with?”
“Oh,” Riley looked behind him at a table of guys. “Some buddies of mine. But,” he paused almost shyly, “I don’t think they’ll notice if I’m not there for a minute.”
They shared a smile before Buffy motioned to an empty seat. “You’re welcome to sit down, you know.”
“Oh, thanks,” Riley sat down opposite her, placing his drink down on the table. “So how are you?” His words were clearly beyond just a casual inquiry.
“I’m okay,” Buffy said, her voice soft as her gaze remained trained on her water. “I got a ride here from a friend.”
“That’s good,” Riley acknowledged with a nod. “Let me know if you need a ride home though, I don’t mind.”
“Thanks,” Buffy said, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “For the offer.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, want to dance?”
Riley’s eyes shifted nervously. “Actually,” he paused, “I’m not that good at dancing.”
Buffy shrugged. “Nobody is, that’s the best part.” She flashed him another warm smile, hoping he’d take the hint.
“Okay then,” Riley said with a sharp exhale. “Let’s go!”
*****
“I don’t get why you want to see other people,” Harmony questioned, her face puzzled.
“Harm,” Spike stopped, “Bloody hell, we’re over.” Simple and direct seemed to work best with her.
“Over?” Harmony’s puzzled expression stayed in her blue eyes.
Or not, Spike thought grimly. “Harm, it’s been fun and you’re a wonderful bird…it’s just…” Spike shrugged, “I think we’d be better off-…”
“Are you breaking up with me?” Harmony cried, her voice jumping several octaves.
Now she gets it? Spike thought incredulously. “Well to be fair we were never really going out in the first place.”
Harmony’s mouth dropped open, her eyes wide in shock. “What?” She screeched unattractively. “How can you do this to me? I gave you the best bunch of,” she faltered for a moment, “w-weeks of my life!”
By now, Spike was officially ready to stop the ‘relationship’ they’d been having. He’d been conflicted, trying to determine if he was breaking up with Harmony because he really wanted to or because of someone else.
“Harm,” Spike said firmly but not meanly, “we’re over.”
The blonde’s eyes narrowed. “Ugh! You’re so….” Harmony let out a sound of frustration and spun on her high heel and huffed out of the back room.
Spike watched as she left the room and let out a small sigh of relief. He finally felt like he’d done something right since the last few months with Dru dumping him.
Harmony had been originally a distraction and, he was slightly ashamed to admit, a nice ‘pick-me-up fuck’. But somehow a day turned into a week and a week turned into a few weeks. Using people, women in particular, wasn’t something Spike prided himself to do but he had with Harmony and even if she didn’t object, a part of him did.
“Hey man, how’d it go?” Gunn asked, stepping into the room. When he immediately noticed the lack of Harmony’s babbling voice, he knew his friend had dumped her.
“My ears are still ringing,” Spike said dryly.
Gunn laughed and slugged Spike playfully. “You ready to head out?”
Spike nodded and motioned for Oz, who was still with Willow across the room. Spike could see him telling Willow to hold on before he walked over.
“What’s up?” Oz asked, looking between Gunn and Spike.
“Band left,” Gunn informed his friend but Oz just shrugged.
“Maybe Willow can give me a ride home,” Oz suggested, looking over at the redhead leaning against the wall. There was a glint of hopefulness in his eye and Spike nodded.
“Right then,” Spike replied, “Later.”
Oz nodded absently, already walking back over to Willow. Both Gunn and Spike headed out of the backroom and out into the main area, past the dance floor. As they walked by, Spike swore he caught a glimpse of who he thought was Buffy dancing with some tall, slightly older guy.
Mentally shrugging, Spike sat down at the table where Xander and Anya were sitting, sipping large gulps of their drinks, looking a little sweaty.
“Hey man,” Xander greeted. “What’s up?”
“You’ve seen Buffy?” Spike asked, looking around.
Xander pointed to a spot over Spike’s shoulder. “She’s there, dancing with some guy she met last time.”
Spike turned to see that the girl he’d thought was Buffy was indeed her and that she had her arms wrapped around some hulking git.
Standing up, Spike pushed his chair aside and walked over the couple, tapping Buffy on the shoulder.
“Time to go,” he informed her.
Buffy glared at him around Riley’s shoulder. “Willow’s taking me home.”
“Not if you’re gonna make curfew, Summers. Our house is on the opposite side of Oz’s.” Spike replied, casting a raised brow in the direction of the tall man she was dancing with. His arms were still loosely wrapped around Buffy but his face was contorted into confusion.
“Oz?” Buffy frowned for a moment then brightened. “Willow’s taking Oz home?”
Spike nodded. “Now, come on Goldilocks, say goodnight to,” he appraised Riley for a moment, “soldier boy here.”
“Buffy?” Riley said hesitantly, pulling back a little. He couldn’t quite figure out how Buffy knew the rude, shorter guy next to her.
Buffy turned to him with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Riley. I gotta go. I’ll call you later, I promise.” And with that, she let go and went over to grab her jacket and purse.
Spike followed, waiting for Buffy to say her goodbyes and then led her out to his car.
“God,” Buffy said as she sat into the bucket seat, sounding annoyed. “Did you have to be so rude?”
Spike shrugged, flashing her a smirk. “Sorry luv.”
Buffy huffed, turning her head away from him as he pulled out into the street.
“So,” Spike began, “where do you know him from?”
Buffy’s face stayed turned. “None of your business.”
“All I’m saying,” Spike continued, ignoring her comment. “Is that you could do better than some soldier boy who can’t dress without being told to do so.”
Buffy finally faced him, eyes narrowed. “Oh, you mean like how you did better with Harmony?” she sneered.
Spike fell silent and his eyes stayed trained on the road. “I broke up with her,” Spike said after a moment.
“Oh,” Buffy instantly felt guilty. “I didn’t mean to, uh, say it like that.”
“Yeah you did,” Spike corrected her.
“Well, it’s just, she’s so…” Buffy trailed off, trying to find a less harsh word than stupid or dumb but Spike beat her to it.
“I’m not under any delusions Harmony would be winning a Nobel Prize anytime soon, but she isn’t all bad,” Spike defended.
“Right,” Buffy said softly, watching as Spike pulled into the driveway. As soon as he turned the engine off, Buffy stepped out. They went inside, her steps quiet and each headed into their respective rooms.
“Hey Summers,” Spike stage-whispered, causing Buffy to stop and turn around.
“Yeah?” she responded, holding on to the doorknob.
Spike smirked. “Tomorrow. Practice. Race.”
Buffy could feel a smirk of her own gracing her lips. “You’re on,” she promised.
A/N: harmony's line about the 'whole bunch of weeks' is taken from her actual line 'whole bunch of months'