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Author's Chapter Notes:
Feedback is good for the muse. Please?!
He didn’t know why he was there. He wasn’t usually the sociable type. Yet he had slipped on his coat before realising what he was doing or where he was going. He just needed to be out; away. His body had grown restless planted in front of the television, his brain tired from the sheer inactivity. Nothing had been able to quell his agitation. So he was here.

Propped casually against the balcony rail, he surveyed the crowd below. The thrum of the bass moved through his body from his feet to his fingertips. The speakers below were cranked to maximum, his beer jumping slightly in his hand. Eyes narrowed, he scanned the people for a head of blonde or even a shock of red. But there was nothing.

There must have been over a hundred bodies in the place but it may as well have been empty for the lack of the one he wanted to see. His gaze shifted from the dance floor to the surrounding tables. He didn’t acknowledge the brunette below, three tables to the left. She lifted her eyes to him seductively, sitting forward in her chair, her arms crossing beneath her chest. She was giving him a prime view down her lilac knit top and he didn’t pause once. His eyes continued their sweep, ignorant of her interest due to his lack of any in her.

Downing the last of his beer, he turned his back on the mass below and headed for the steps leading to the bar. Despite his inherent lack of thirst, he found himself craving a whisky. It was second only to blood but tonight it would have to do. He could have headed over to Willy’s, he’d have been less conspicuous for sure but tonight was not about the beer. It was about her. He hadn’t seen her in five days and four nights. Tonight was Friday night. He would have bet his undead life on an appearance from her and her tag a long team. He shoved his empty pint glass across the bar and asked for a Jack Daniels. The waitress raised an eyebrow and picked a glass from somewhere over her head.

He patted his jacket to find his cigarettes, finding only an empty packet. Crunching it in his palm, he tossed it into the ashtray. A manicured hand placed a cigarette on the bar in front of him. He turned to find himself looking at the lilac girl. He placed the cigarette between his lips and leaned into the flame she offered him. He drew on it hard and she smiled.
“Thanks.” He exhaled and turned back to the bar, looking for the waitress and his drink. The brunette didn’t move, he could feel her stood at his elbow. He groaned inwardly. Turning to her once more, he smiled in time to see her empty her glass. He nodded at it in question.
“Rum and coke, thank you.” He collected his drink, ordered hers and placed a twenty on the bar. He smiled at her again, tightly this time and moved off into the crowd.

This time, he chose a shadowed spot by the stairwell. He leant his foot back against the wall and slipped out of the probing light show. People were getting wild on the dance floor courtesy of the free flowing alcohol. He saw the lilac girl looking for him across the room and shook his head slowly. It was always the ones you didn’t want that would hunt you down. The music suddenly changed from thumping rock to a melodic ballad. The dance floor emptied as couples coupled up and singles topped up. And suddenly, there she was.

She was sitting to his left, smiling slightly, as she observed Anya and Xander slow dancing. He noticed that she to was basked in shadow, cradling a glass on her lap. He saw her face harden as her eyes scanned the room, feeling his presence but not being able to detect him. He tipped the remainder of the whisky down his throat enjoying the burning sensation as it travelled into his gut. And then he stepped forward.

She had not wanted to come here tonight. She knew she would end up feeling like this; third wheeling. Third wheel Buffy. But Xander had insisted, promised lots of Bronzing fun with non-alcoholic beverages. She had her beverage but was yet to have her fun. The slow dancing couples swayed aimlessly in front of her, oblivious to everyone but each other. She wished herself some of that. Oblivion. Whatever shape it came in, she was looking for some of that. Sipping her coke, she closed her eyes and opened her senses. An all too familiar sensation washed over her skin. Vampire. Her arms went cold and her back stiffened. Eyes narrowed, she skimmed the room, reaching out into the darkest corners. Come out, come out wherever you are. And then he stepped forward.

His eyes were already fixed upon her, his empty glass redundant in his hand. His other, he brought upwards, sweeping through his hair. She remained still, her eyes meeting his but her breath caught in her throat. What the hell was he looking at her like that for? He looked different to when she had last seen him. He had been all light and smiles. Cream shirt, tan pants, brown leather and white teeth. Tonight he was black. Duster, jeans, shirt, eyes. She mocked his penchant for the gothic wardrobe but secretly, she thought it suited him. She raised her glass to her lips, swallowing her coke and along with it, the surprise that she had an opinion on Spike’s ensemble. She was feeling uncomfortable under the close scrutiny. Why didn’t he come over and start bugging her so she could tell him where to go? The routines were a lot easier to follow – well-rehearsed responses, the customary eye-roll and nose punch.

He reached out and deposited his glass on the table next to him, his eyes never swerving from hers. And then she was gone. Replaced in his line of vision by the brunette. "Look love, I'm flattered but really you’re barking up the wrong tree with me." He stepped to the side but she stepped into him, winding her arms around his neck.
"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" She tilted her face up to him and he looked down into her hopeful eyes. She wasn't bad to look at, not really. Another night, another decade and he may have felt differently, shown a bit more interest. He gently pulled her arms down and back to her sides. "I've judged it for you."
His eyes flicked up and over her head to see Buffy glaring at them. A smirk played on the edges of his lips. Something was making the Slayer cranky. It was a free country, he was entitled to a piece of tail. And besides, it might do her good to see that he wasn't just a monster, he had needs. And there were girls that would fall over themselves to meet them. Just because the holier-than-thou Chosen One wasn't up for the job didn't mean he had to go without. The brunette was smiling again as he slipped his arms around her waist drawing her closer.
"On second thoughts, sweetheart, why don't you let me buy you another?"

The brunette perched herself on a stool as he beckoned the waitress. She slipped her left leg round his right and start rubbing it up the back of his calf. Oh, she was up for it alright. He looked at her hard as she babbled on, trying to muster up some kind of reaction to her blatant come-ons. But there was nothing. He tipped another whisky down his neck and smiled blandly at her inane chat. She had served her purpose now, he had given the Slayer some food for thought but now he was wondering how the hell he was going to get rid of her.

His eyes slid from person to person, nonchalantly, until they rested upon the Slayer. But she was rising from her seat. Dammit, she couldn't be leaving already. Anya and Xander were still smooching and shuffling on the dancefloor, she hadn’t even said goodbye to them. He pleaded silently for her to turn and look at him but her eyes remained lowered as she slipped her arms in the sleeves of her jacket and stalked towards the exit. If he didn't know better he'd think she was mad. An ember of hope flickered deep in his belly as he wondered if she was jealous, that seeing that girl draping herself all over him had bothered her after all. Then he realised she was probably doing a quick round of patrolling before doubling back to walk the Scoobies home. Yeah that would be it.

He growled low in his chest, angry that after all that waiting he'd only got to look at her for a few seconds. The brunette was still sat there, gazing at him like she would eat him right up. If he hadn't been chipped he would have eaten her up all right. He smiled sadly at the irony. Instead, he was here, lusting after the Slayer. Snarling, he slammed his glass onto the bar. It smashed, the shards skittering across the floor into the crowd.

The clack of her heels on the pavement was beginning to irritate her. She cursed her boots and wondered for the millionth time why she hadn't worn flats. Because I hadn't intended on patrolling, that's why. She exhaled loudly and picked up her pace. She considered going home to change them but then she wouldn't be back in time to walk Xander and Anya home. It would have been a lot easier all round if she had just stayed. But how could she have when Spike was practically putting on a sex show with a skank? Did he not have any decency? He could have taken her back to his crypt or at least outside, elsewhere. Entering the graveyard, she slowed her steps as they quieted on the grass. Of course, he didn't have decency, he was a vampire. He was depraved, deprived.. degenerate. She could feel the tension leaving her neck as she tried to think of as many "de" words as she could to describe him. Delicious... delectable.. de-what? She groaned loudly, lashing out at a nearby trash can. It splintered, spilling its contents across the path.

"Come on now, love, there's no excuse for littering. Some of us have got to live here you know."
"Here's me thinking you'd be right at home in the garbage. Something for you and your little ho-biscuit to roll around in." She tossed him a glare, swung out her hair and turned to leave. He jogged in front of her, blocking her way.
"Ouch love, what little nasty has got your knickers in a twist?" He smirked, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, awaiting the inevitable fist in the face. Instead, she sighed. Exasperated.
"Spike, its late. I'm tired. I have things to do. You have someone else to do, so go, leave me alone." She stepped past him.
"As a matter of fact love, I sent the bint packing." He fell into step beside her as she continued with her sweep.
She ignored the relief washing up and down her spine and focused on showing him how much she really didn't care. "So what, your skank dumps you and I'm the benefactor of your stellar company for the evening? God really does hate me doesn't he?" She rolled her eyes skyward for effect.
His voice dropped, his tone deep and seductive. "Maybe he's trying to tell you something."
Buffy snorted. "Like what? That I did something really bad in a past life?"
Spike's face contorted with frustration. Was she really that dumb? Did he really have to spell it out to her? Growling, he shoved her sideways. She stumbled, falling against a tree, his arms around her, penning her in. He leaned into her, pressing her into the tree with the weight of his body. "Or that you should do something really bad in this life." She lowered her eyes, thrown by the sheer desire that was radiating out of his body and directly into her own. Involuntarily, she shivered. He smiled then, an evil twist of the lips. "See baby, it's not that bad really. In fact, you might find you enjoy it."





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