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Music Referenced:

Frank Sinatra - “Dancing Cheek to Cheek.”
The Beatles – “Got to Get You Into My Life.”

Chapter Four


Buffy recognized Oz the minute he jumped out of the driver’s seat of the big, white van and approached the Desoto. Spike opened the window and Oz poked his head into the car, leaning his arms against the window ledge.

“Trouble, again?” he asked, matter-of-factly. Spike made a little sound with the back of his throat and lightly drummed on the steering wheel. Dean Martin changed to Frank Sinatra and Buffy almost didn’t even notice.

It was a lovely combination for the night. With Sinatra’s mellow, fluid voice almost drowned out by a combination of the Greenday from the van and the distant pounding of a metal band inside the building, set back with the regular sounds of traffic. There was a slight breeze through the window and Buffy shivered, feeling her skin prickle.

Spike looked defeated as he slowly said, “I think we need your help. Jump starting, all that rot. You know?”

“Yeah, okay,” Oz took a step back to give Spike room to open his door. After getting out of the car, he shrugged off his leather jacket and tossed it on his seat, revealing his lean, muscular arms. Both of them went to look for jumper cables in the van and Buffy leaned back on her chair, closing her eyes, trying to relax. But she was so fidgety, it was almost impossible.

Heaven, I’m in Heaven / And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak / And I seem to find the happiness I seek / When we’re out together dancing cheek to cheek.

She watched Oz help Spike open the hood of the van and admired the way Spike moved easily. He had the sort of strong back that had muscles that flickered visibly through his black shirt and Buffy admired the way his waist narrowed down. She sighed, wondering why it was that she always found guys working on their cars sexy.

He bent down and disappeared for a few seconds under the hood that Oz was holding up for him, oblivious of Buffy’s scrutiny. She liked the way his jeans fit. Not too tight, not too baggy, perfect. They were hanging snugly around his hips and his black T-shirt fell down just right, just past the belt of his pants.

Dance with me / I want my arm about you / That charm about you / Will carry me through

They were now opening the hood of the Desoto and Buffy got tired of waiting, so she got out of the car, too. For a few seconds, she stretched her arms out above her head, feeling a satisfying pull in her lower abdominal region. Smiling contentedly, she lightly rubbed her hand against the flatness below her bellybutton. It had taken almost an entire school year to work the little flab off, and she was damn proud of it. Never had she looked better in low-slung jeans that didn’t stretch to accommodate her.

From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Spike peeking at her from under the hood of the car, but when she turned around, he was almost completely absorbed with the engine, trying to figure out the plugs.

Sighing, Buffy turned back around. She could almost hear the birds chirp from the roofs of buildings and the crickets sing from central park. The night seemed so peaceful, despite the banging and clanging sounds of drums and cars and noise, noise, noise. A breeze washed over her and -

“Buffy!” a female voice called from behind her and she twisted around to see who it was.

“Willow?!” She squinted and squealed when she recognized the red-head. She ran around the Desoto and towards the van to wrap her friend up in a big hug. Willow laughed as Buffy attacked her and they held on for a brief second before holding each other out at arm’s length and admiring.

“Wow, Willow,” Buffy grinned, “Last time I saw you, the only thing you were dating was your chemistry book. I’m guessing that moving across the state was a good thing?” She stopped herself, realizing her assumption, “I mean, you are dating him… right?”

“Oz?” Willow looked over to where the boys were, attentions completely occupied with the car at hand, and sighed blissfully, “Yeah. He is so…” she tilted her head and sighed again.

“So… in a band? So… gorgeous? So… a badass bass player?” Buffy giggled and Willow’s smile grew.

“All of the above and then some,” She shifted her attention to Spike, “You and Spike?”

“New development as of almost half an hour ago,” Buffy squinted at her watch again, but again, the only thing she could make out was the glint of the crystals pleating the silver ring reflecting the street lamps and the moon.

“New development, huh?” Willow smirked slyly, “And how much of a development might that be?”

“Mmm,” Buffy looked up at the sky, dreamily, “Maybe a three-minute taste. Definitely not enough, but hey, what can a girl do?”

Willow elbowed her, playfully, “You slut. A girl can take him out for the night. Let him know that there is a life besides lying in bed all night feeling sorry for himself because his evil ex-girlfriend dumped him. You should spend time with him,” She paused to look at Spike who was currently sneaking a not-so-discreet glance at Buffy, who was staring at the sky like it was something she never noticed before, “Have some fun.”

Buffy snapped out of her sky-gazing and turned to her friend.

“Sounds like a perfect plan if we were in dream-land,” she shrugged, then absentmindedly kicked at a piece of gravel that was falling from the deteriorating lot, “But I have to take Faith home or else –“

“Why don’t you let me and Oz take her home?” Willow interjected, looking a little excited, “I still know where you live. 11 Revello Drive, Sunnydale-home-of-the-beautiful-and-hopeless, right?”

Buffy stopped what she was doing to listen to the offer.

“Come on, Buffy,” Willow tried again, poking her harder with her elbow, “Show him a good time. He really needs it. Faith’ll be fine with me and my groupie, Oz. Or maybe I’m the groupie. Hm.”

“I’d love to, Wills, but…” Buffy stared wistfully at Spike who was stretching his back and reaching up to close the hood, “Responsibilities… Faith… you know…”

“No, I don’t know,” Willow gave her a funny look, “Last time I checked, you were the anti-Responsibility. Don’t tell me you’ve grown a conscience..”

“Oh look, little Willow’s grown a sense of humor.”

“I’m serious, bitch,” Willow laughed.

“Oh! Language…” Buffy pointed at her and made a tsk sound, “Maybe Oz isn’t such a good influence.”

“Shut up. He’s perfect.”

“Right.”

“Stop talking about me. We’re talking about you, remember? You and Spike,” Willow nodded towards Spike who was now talking to Oz and giving them a curious look every so often. “Look at the guy. It’s sad. He’s so sad. When’s the last time you did community service, Buffy?”

“You’re funny.”

“That’s what I thought. Well, why don’t you start now? It’s for a good cause,” Willow fished into her back pocket and came up with a 20 spot, then slipped it into Buffy’s hand. “Put this to good use, okay?”

Buffy shook her head, then gave the money back to her friend. “I don’t need it. Just take good care of Faith, okay?”

“Yes!”

Willow practically skipped to the back of the Desoto and yanked the door open. Faith almost fell out.

“You wont regret it,” She laughed, looking back at Buffy who sighed and went to help her drag an unconscious Faith out to move to the bed of the white van.

“Oh, I know I wont,” Buffy shook her head. “I just hope you wont regret it.”

Faith chose that minute to start coughing and vomited straight onto the ground, narrowly missing Willow’s feet. Willow cringed.

“Still think this is a good idea?” Buffy laughed at the look on Willow’s face.

“You just better show him a really good time,” she glared.

“Okay,” Buffy put her arms under Faith’s armpits and hauled her out. “That’s a promise.”

………………
………………
………………

Spike looked on silently as the two girls dragged the limp body of Faith, who looked like she was about ready to heave any minute now, to the band’s van. He couldn’t believe it. Just when he thought the night couldn’t be any more confusing, he was thrown yet another surprise.

“So. You and Buffy?” Oz reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Spike.

He took it and looked over at his band mate, questioningly. “You know Buffy?”

“Yeah, we go way back,” Oz answered simply, as he stuck the white cancer stick between his lips. He patted the back of his pockets, looking for a lighter. Spike watched as he found one then cupped a hand around the flame as he lit his cigarette. When he finished, he passed the lighter over and Spike took it, lighting his as well.

“I guess an elaboration’s out of the question, then?” Spike slowly blew out a trail of smoke, then handed the lighter back to Oz, who pocketed it.

“No need for one,” he shrugged.

“Right.”

Spike turned back to look at the girls. They finally succeeded in pushing Faith into the back of the van and he secretly prayed that she wouldn’t throw up on one of their instruments. Buffy laughed at something Willow said and Spike couldn’t help but smile a little bit. The orange light of the streetlamp hit her hair at just the right angle and something about her seemed ethereal and down-to-earth all at the same time. She was intriguing.

“What about you?” Oz asked him, snapping him out of his daydream.

“Me, what?” Spike questioned, not knowing what he was talking about.

“You and Buffy – hey, are you sure you’re okay?” Oz was giving him an expression that looked halfway between a laugh and a serious glare.

“What? Yeah,” he answered, indignantly. “’Course I am. More than okay. Right and dandy. Peachy. I feel like a shooting star. I’m a Greek god. I’m beautiful like the stars in the heavens, mate. And I’ve finally gone insane.”

“Peachy?”

“Uh… yeah. About that. You didn’t hear me say any of that.”

Oz stared at him for a little while, bewildered, wondering what the hell his friend had to drink. He certainly didn’t look drunk. Or stoned for that matter. Finally, he shrugged and said, “Okay.”

“I just… I don’t know,” Spike sighed, looking back at Buffy who caught his gaze and held it for a few seconds before smiling and turning back to Willow. His smile widened by a fraction. “I mean… I just met her. And, I,… I guess she’s alright. For someone from Sunnydale.”

“Okay,” Oz said, slowly, then took a step away from him. “This conversation has officially become too effeminate, so I will slowly walk away from you and suggest that you have a beer.”

“Oh, shut up, you git,” he muttered as his friend turned on his heel and walked towards the van and the girls. He flicked his cigarette and pretended to be intensely interested in the orange glow of some ash falling to the ground.

Every so often he would glance up and see Oz laughing with the girls. Something in him wanted to go join the group but he was feeling a little weird. Particularly this moment. Particularly this night. None of it seemed real.

Especially the girl. She didn’t erase the pain that Drusilla had burnt in his heart. Not by far. But there’s something about her, he thought, watching the way she hooked her thumbs in her belt loops and threw her head back slightly when she found something funny.

Something about her told him that he should make getting to know her a high priority. Because maybe, just maybe, she could ease her way into his heart and begin to heal the scars.

Faintly, he recognized the Beatles happily singing “Got to Get You Into My Life” inside of the Desoto, softly overpowering the other sounds of the night.

I was alone, I took a ride / I didn’t know what I would find there. / Another road where maybe I / Could see another kind of mind there

He saw Buffy turn to look at him and smile as she slowly made her way towards him. Oz and Willow got into the car and waved before they drove off, taking Greenday’s album with them. But all he noticed was the way the girl from Sunnydale, land of the proud and rich, was getting closer, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jeans and biting her lip as she finally stopped in front of him.

The Beatles sang on happily and he felt this peaceful easiness relax into him as he looked into her eyes. And for once, he felt like the night was finally beginning.

Got to get you into my life / Got to get you into my life





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