Buffy had been in a lot of difficult situations. A lot of difficult situations. Well, difficult situations and slayerness kind of went hand in hand. She’d faced down vampires, a wide selection of demons of varying degrees of nastiness and evilness, and all manner of nemesises. Or should that be nemisi? Nemeses? Whatever.
She’d met her match now.
This was Xander’s fault. He was supposed to have met her in The Bronze half an hour ago, and he was late. So when Pricilla and her band of acolytes had spotted her and sat down next to her, Buffy’s first feeling had been one of gratified surprise – Pricilla was, after all, the acknowledged queen of the campus, and given that Buffy really didn’t think she even registered on the cool crowd’s radar, she was astonished, if a little suspicious, that Pricilla seemed to want to draw her into her exclusive circle. But as time had gone on, she was beginning to wonder if maybe Pricilla was just out for some fun and ‘let’s go condescend Buffy’ was the sport of choice. So far, the conversation had covered the latest and hottest designers (Buffy has never heard of them and certainly didn’t own anything they’d designed) and last season’s skiing (Buffy had barely seen snow let alone skied on it) and had now moved inexorably on to boyfriends. Of all potential topics, this was the one Buffy could most do without.
“Tell me about it!” The redhead who’s name Buffy didn’t recall rolled her eyes. “This weekend Todd calls me up and he's all "Where were you today?" and I'm like "Hey, you don’t own me" and he’s “Oh, yeah? Well maybe I’ll go find myself a girl who appreciates me” and I’m just...”
“’Whatever!’” The group of flawlessly groomed, immaculately made-up girls arranged around the table chorused, collapsing in laughter.
Buffy tried for a knowing smile. She hoped it looked more convincing than it felt.
“Men, huh?” Priscilla ran perfectly manicured fingertips through her mane of sun-bleached hair. “Speaking of which…Buffy,” she turned to Buffy with a saccharin smile. “I hear Riley dumped you. Oh, poor thing! You must be heartbroken. “The smile was replaced by a pantomime of concern. “You don’t have much luck do you? I mean, first Parker, then Riley…” she shook her head sadly. “Can’t seem to keep them.”
“I…” Buffy began.
“So, I guess you’re between boys right now, huh?” Priscilla carried on without pausing for breath. “Hey girls, what do you think? Could we fix Buffy up with a guy? Who do you think? Any saddo lonely hearts out there desperate for female company?”
“Actually,” Buffy began. All eyes turned towards her and she paused. What she knew she needed was the perfect retort, an absolutely crushing put-down that would put Priscilla firmly in her place and give Buffy the high ground, giving her the chance to escape with her dignity intact and reputation enhanced. However, knowing and doing were two different things. “I have a boyfriend right now.” The words were out of her mouth before she had the chance to stop them. I have a boyfriend? She resisted the sudden urge to bang her head against the table.
“Oh, really?” Pricilla arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow in clear disbelief. “Well, I know everyone on campus so I’m kind of surprised not to have heard! Go on,” she leaned forward conspiratorially, “Do tell…”
Cursing herself inwardly, Buffy began clutching at straws. “You wouldn’t know him. He… he isn’t at college. He’s… he’s from out of town.”
“Out of town?” Pricilla said, a “you seriously don’t expect me to believe that?” sneer curling her lips. “Well, I’m sure we all want to hear all about him!”
“Well, he’s… he’s…” Buffy looked desperately around the crowded club, hoping against hope that Xander might have put in an appearance and be about to rescue her from this particular circle of hell. There was no sign of Xander. But…
Later Buffy had to put the whole of what happened next down to desperation.
“Oh! He’s here!” She stood up quickly. “Late as ever. I just need to… you know.” She gestured vaguely, smiled weakly and set off across the club.
Spike was standing at the bar, ostentatiously not noticing her. Buffy gritted her teeth, stood next to him and slid her arm through his.
“Hey!” Spike tried to pull away but was held tight in a slayer-tight grip. “Let go!”
“Stand still!” Buffy hissed. “Look, I need you to do something for me. I need you to be my boyfriend.”
Spike looked at her in stunned disbelief. “Your what?"
“Boyfriend! You know - a boy. Who’s a friend. Or kind more than a friend…”
“Well, it’s a bit sudden, pet…”
Buffy glared at him. “Pretend boyfriend."
Spike frowned. “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend?”
“Just for a coupla minutes.”
“Why?” The frown took on an edge of suspicion.
“It’s… complicated.”
“Must be bloody complicated if you’re reduced to this,” he sniffed.
“Look, I just need someone male and presentable…” she looked Spike up and down “…vaguely presentable… to get someone off my back.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “You got some bloke makin’ a move?”
“No, I…” she paused and frowned. “Hey! Why sound so surprised? It happens!”
Spike gave a snort of disbelief. “No accountin’ for taste.”
“It’s not a boy.” Buffy went on icily. “It’s a girl.”
“Yeah?” Spike looked at her with renewed interest.
“Oh, for…Not like that! Do you think you could get your mind outta the gutter for a minute? Look, I take you over, introduce you as my…” she winced, “…boyfriend. We leave. I don’t stake you tonight. OK?”
Spike sniffed and turned away. “No.”
“What?!”
“No! What if someone sees us? Got m’reputation to consider.”
“Reputation?”
“Yeah! What if word gets out Spike’s datin’ a slayer? Hardly fits the whole Big Bad vibe.” He sniffed disdainfully and looked off into the distance. “Reputation like mine doesn’t come easy.” He cast her a glance out of the corner of his eye. “Or cheap…”
Buffy rolled her eyes. "I have money."
“Oh.” He nodded reasonably. “That’s different.” He straightened up and draped an arm possessively over her shoulder. “What d’you want me to do?”
“Just… try and act normal…as in, like a normal person, not normal for you,” Buffy gritted her teeth, mentally crossed her fingers and led him towards the group of girls. “And say as little as possible.” She smiled at Priscilla. “This is Spike. Spike, this is Pricilla. She’s a… friend. From college.”
“Pleased to meet you, ladies.” Spike smiled suavely at the girls. “Lookin’ good.”
Buffy was amazed to see them begin to blush and preen under his gaze. And was that a touch of jealousy in the glance Pricilla threw her? She looked up at Spike curiously. She’s always known he could turn on the bad boy charm, but really – he wasn’t that attractive. She shook her head, carefully removed Spike’s trailing hand from her left breast where it had ever so casually come to rest and decided to quit while she appeared to be ahead. “So – nice talking to you, but... you know, thing to do…” She smiled sweetly. “See you in school.” She turned and led Spike away before he had the chance to shatter any illusions.
“You can let go now,” she hissed.
“They’re watchin’. Not sure the bottle-blonde bint believes you. You spun this tale, pet, you’re gonna have to make it convincing.” The errant hand returned to her breast.
“Do that again and I’ll stake you, I don’t care who’s watching.” Buffy growled.
“Oh, that’ll look good on your dating record! Date the Summers bint an’ end up a big pile of dust! They’ll be queuing up.” Spike looked down at her. “So, now what? You know, I don’t fancy smoochin’ with you all night. Less you wanna buy me a few drinks…”
“Can’t we just go?” Buffy groaned. “I don’t think I can keep this up…”
“Shoulda thought of that before you got yourself into this mess.”
“They caught me off guard! They’re all so… so superior with the cars daddy bought them and the designer wardrobes daddy bought them and the soccer star boyfriends…”
“Daddy bought ‘em?” Spike snorted.
“…and I’ll bet they had ponies…” she muttered.
“Dance with me.” He looked down at her, eyebrow cocked.
Buffy was taken completely off guard by the sudden change in the conversation. She looked up at him open-mouthed. “Do wah…? No way!”
“C’mon. Little dance make it all the more believable… We disappear straight ‘way, they’ll get suspicious. S’that or we’ll have to do the lovey-dovey talkin’ thing, an’ I don’t know about you, but...”
Buffy sighed and went for the lesser of two evils. “OK. But no funny business.”
“As if I would.” Spike grinned.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Seein’ the great slayer reducing to lyin’ by a bunch of itty-bitty Valley girls and havin’ to make out with her mortal enemy? Yeah, you could say that.”
“There will be no making out! Just… dance. And don’t touch.”
She followed him onto the dance floor reluctantly. He stopped in the centre and turned to her and raised an eyebrow. She gave him the patent Buffy glare, grabbed his arm and dragged him to a slightly less prominent position at the shadowed edge of the other pairs of dancers.
“Right. Let’s just try and get through this.” She forced a smile and raised a hand to Priscilla, who was, Buffy couldn’t fail to notice, looking gratifyingly piqued.
The music changed, the band moving from a nifty little dance number into the heavy, sensuous beat of something much slower. Buffy glared at Spike suspiciously. “Did you do that?”
“Did I…? Oh, get over yourself, slayer!” Spike frowned. “Look, you don’t wanna do this…” He made to walk away.
“No! Sorry. OK. Let’s…” Buffy gestured vaguely, “…dance.”
“Humph.” Spike grunted. “Right then.” He frowned down at her. “Bloody hell, woman, will you relax! You wanna make this look good, best let me lead, huh? Just let the music carry you…Ah-a-ah,” this as her hand moved to slap away his as it trailed softly down her arm, “Remember who’s watching.” The unslapped hand curled softly around her waist. One thumb caressed her gently, but he made no attempt to pull her closer. “S’better. Would you listen to that? Love this song,” he went on, eyes half closed.
Buffy snorted. “Isn’t it a bit… you know, soppy, for the evil undead?”
“What, we’re not supposed to like anythin’ except KISS and The Damned?”
“Who and the what?”
“Bloody ignoramus.” Spike shook his head in dismay. “Shh…Listen. Y’know, if you just relaxed a bit, you’d be a much better dancer.”
Buffy shook off his hand. “Hey! I can dance! I’m a good dancer! Besides, being this close without a stake in my hand? Not big with the relaxing.”
Spike raised a warning eyebrow in the direction of their audience and replaced his hand. “Nah. You try too hard. I’ve watched you…”
“You’ve watched me? Are you stalking me?” Buffy growled between clenched teeth as the relentless thumb caressed her side.
“No.” Spike frowned then reconsidered. “Well, actually, yeah. Nothin’ funny though – just the usual ‘me vampire, you slayer’ thing.”
“Well, that’s OK then.” Buffy said dryly. “Not creepy at all.”
“Perfectly natural. C’mon.” Spike’s eyes were hooded, his body swaying in time with the slow beat. “Try it. What are you? Scared, slayer?
“Of you? As if.”
“Scared.” Spike nodded. “Or maybe just way too much the tight-arsed, prissy slayer to really let go…”
“Tight-arsed? Prissy? I am so not prissy!” Buffy gave an exasperated growl and pressed herself against him. “See? I can let go.”
He shook his head and pushed her away. “Nah. Tryin’ too hard. Not sexy.”
“Not…?” Buffy was virtually speechless. Virtually. “OK – so, go on. Show me sexy. Because, you know, somehow the whole evil undead thing? So not sexy…”
“No?” He gave her a slow smile, eyebrow raised, tongue against teeth that raised a flash of heat in her gut that took Buffy seriously by surprise. “OK. So – close your eyes,” Buffy closed one eye as he pulled her softly against him, but kept the other fixed suspiciously on his face. “Listen to the music... really listen… the beat… hear it?” The soft breath of his words brushed her cheek, making her shiver. The slow smile returned with a vengeance. “No, don’t force it. Just relax… let it wash over you… get under your skin… fill your mind… better…” Despite herself Buffy felt herself relaxing against him, her body moulding perfectly against his, their movements merging with stunning ease. “That’s the way,” he purred.
“No funny business…” she tried for severe, but it sounded half-hearted even to her own ears.
“Vampire’s honour.”
“Oh, and that helps…”
“We have an honour code,” Spike's voice continued to purr close to her ear. “Just not one you’d understand…”
“Huh,” she snorted. “Are they watching?”
Spike peered over her shoulder. “Yeah, still there. Want me to eat ‘em for you?”
Buffy bit back a laugh. “You can’t.”
“Oh, I dunno. Can’t bite humans, is all. Sometimes think those college types barely qualify. Take Harm, for example.”
“Nope, you can keep her. And welcome.” She sighed. “Tempting as it is to say yes, I guess I shouldn’t be encouraging you to eat people.”
“Never needed much encouragement.”
“No, I guess not…” Buffy smiled. It occurred to her suddenly that actually, loathe as she was to admit it, dancing with Spike was… well… not unpleasant. If she put aside the whole ‘evil undead’ issue, which she wasn’t going to do, naturally, but if she did… then she had to admit that it felt good to be dancing with someone who’s body seemed a perfect fit for hers and who actually seemed know how to move that body in… ah… all sorts of good ways. Oh, well, if she was going to make this look realistic… She closed her eyes and relaxed. She guessed she could carry on with the show for just a little bit longer.
The band played, slipping easily into another slow number and they danced on. She really should stop this, Buffy though vaguely, because… hello? Spike? It really, really shouldn’t be so good to be this close, to be lost to the rhythm of the music, the effortless, liquid grace of his movements, the natural, easy way she moved with him. She felt alive to him, aware of every inch of his body where it touched hers, the pressure of his fingers at her waist; aware of the hardness of muscle moving beneath the softness of leather under her fingers; aware of the feel of soft black cotton overlying cool solidity where her cheek rested against his chest; aware that his lips were resting, butterfly light, against her hair. And she was very aware of the effect this was having on her – and suddenly uncomfortably conscious that he might know as well. She raised her head and looked up at him. “Spike…” she began, then stopped.
If he’d gloated one little bit, if he’d shown any spark of snark, given any hint of victory, she’d have punched him and walked. But his eyes were uncertain, touched with an insecurity and vulnerability she’d never seen in him before, his lips parted softly, questioning. “Buffy…?” he said quietly.
So, before her brain caught up with what her body was doing, she kissed him.
And he kissed her back, after a moment of shocked incomprehension, hesitant at first, but then with slow sensuality that deepened and until she was completely lost in the coolness of his mouth on hers, the firm softness of his lips, the torpid tangle of their tongues. She felt his arms close around her pulling her closer, pressed herself against him and gave in to the sensation.
“Buffy?” She opened her eyes lazily to find a stunned looking Xander.
Reality and sense of place hit home. She tore her mouth from Spike’s. “Xander!” She looked up at an equally dazed-looking Spike, “I…” back to an open-mouthed Xander, who was currently doing a passable impression of a bewildered goldfish, “we…”, and then back to Spike in despair, “you…” Despite the confusion of the moment, Buffy couldn’t help her eyes fixing on the full curve of a lower lip, still flushed from her kiss. She dragged her eyes back to his, to the meet a soft, amazed look which didn’t help at all.
“Buffy…?” The headtilt didn’t help any either.
“Ohhhhhh…!” In a moment of confusion, instinct took over and Buffy did what she did best.
“OWW!” Spike’s hand flew to his recently punched nose.
“Go away.”
“What the f…!”
“Now! Go!” she growled through clenched teeth. “You’ll get your money.”
A flash of hurt in his eyes was answered by a tug of something in her chest that felt remarkably like betrayal. She bit her lip.
He leaned towards her and Buffy resisted the urge to back away. “Keep your money,” his voice was a low hiss close to her ear, “Consider it paid in kind.” As he pulled back his cheek brushed hers and she could barely suppress a gasp. He looked at her quickly, a slight frown creasing his brow. Then he wiped his nose with the back of his hand, glared at Xander, the muscles of his jaw tight, and turned and stalked away.
Xander watched him go and then turned to Buffy in bewilderment. “Wait a minute. You kissed Spike, and you were going to pay him…?
“I didn’t kiss Spike! He… he kissed me!”
Xander snorted. “Well, it looked like pretty mutual kissage from where I was standing.” He shuddered. “And that’s an image I’d kind of rather not have in my brain right now.”
“I…” Buffy was floundering. “It was just… and then the music was all…” It suddenly dawned on her that the slow and smoochy song that had started all this had clearly long since finished and really she was on a bit of a loser if she tried to blame her lapse on the rocking little number the band were currently well into playing. She bit her lip and searched for an excuse – any excuse – that Xander might possibly buy. Because really, she didn’t think he was any more ready to face up to the fact that actually, the kiss had been pretty much mutual – plus all kinds of enjoyable in ways that just thinking about brought a tingle to her lips and… well… other places – than she was. “Oh!” A sudden idea struck her – a slim chance, but a chance worth taking. “Thrall! That must’ve been it! He thrilled me. Thralled me,” a quick correction, “when I… wasn’t looking…” she ended lamely.
“A thrall.” To her surprise, Xander seemed to be as eager to find an excuse as she was. “Thrall! Yeah. That’d be it. I mean, just because we’ve never seen him use it, doesn’t mean he can’t, right? Him being a vampire and all…”
“Mmm…” Despite herself her eyes were drawn over Xander’s shoulder to where a leather clad form lurked by the door, blue eyes intense, fixed on hers.
“I mean, he gets you thralled and then… well, let’s not go there.” Xander went on.
“No…” Buffy watched as Spike nodded to her solemnly, then turned and melted into the shadows. She blinked and tried to ignore a surge of disappointment so strong it hurt that coursed through her. She looked over at Xander. “Let’s not. Really.”
“You can’t let him get away with that.” Xander shook his head as he followed her off the dance floor.
“I can’t? I mean, no, I can’t.” Buffy nodded vigorously. “And… and I won’t. Really. First chance I get, I’ll… I’ll…” Buffy sat down at the table mercifully vacated by Pricilla and her clique and picked up the soda she’d left earlier. “I’ll do something,” she ended lamely. Xander settled next to her and opened his mouth to speak. “In fact,” Buffy leapt to her feet before he had the chance, “I’m gonna go do that now.”
“What? But…” Xander began.
“No! That was bad and… and wicked and I should… should strike while the iron is hot. Hot. Yes. Umm. Don’t wait up …” she smiled briefly at a bewildered Xander and fled.
~~~~~~~~
He was there, just as she knew he would be, stepping out of the shadows to meet her. He stopped a few paces away, wrapped his duster tightly around himself, and shrugged uncertainly. “Buffy.”
She stepped closer, looked up into tentative blue eyes. This, she thought, was all kinds of stupid.
She smiled nervously. “Sorry,” she gestured towards his face. “About the nose.”
He smiled gently. “S’OK. It’s kind of used to it.”
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “So… how was I doing?”
“Doing?”
“With the dancing.”
“Oh! Well. Really well. Barely detectable prissyness.”
“Yeah? Only personally I think that maybe…” she looked up at him from under lowered lashes, “I need a longer lesson.”
“Oh, right.” He stepped toward her, gave her the slow smile that set her tingling with anticipation. “How ‘bout now?”
She rested her hands on his chest. “There’s no music,” she said softly.
“Who needs music?” he purred, pulling her to him.
