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Author's Chapter Notes:
Well my friends, the muse is most defintiely back, let's all hope she's here to stay....
Chapter 5 – High Noon


He had stayed in Sunnydale till Joyce Summers’ funeral, but he had returned to New York the following day. Buffy had made it plain that she didn’t want to see him again, and he loved her too much to argue.

But he had plans – big plans.

It took almost six months. Six months of planning, selling, buying and packing to move. He had no qualms in selling the club in New York. Even though times were hard, Angel had paid well over the asking price just to get a foot in the door. It took time to sort out the paperwork, but the sale had gone through quickly. Angel, the mug, had paid him cash.

Who was he to complain about a quick sale?

Buying something in Sunnydale was not too hard, but making sure it was fitted out to his taste proved a lot harder. He couldn’t return until almost opening night, and all the arrangements had to be done through a third party. Spike had ensured that no one knew who had bought the old warehouse; he didn’t want to warn her of his return.

Clem and Xander had agreed to accompany him on his new venture. Neither man had any ties in New York, and the promise of work in a quiet town in California was incentive enough. The orchestra and the dancers were staying put, Angel had been more than happy to keep them on. They knew the music and routines that kept the customers happy, and it would take too long to replace them.

Spike had snickered to himself when he closed the deal. Angel was too stupid to realise that Buffy was the big draw in the club. If the Irishman had no musical ear, hell, that wasn’t Spike’s fault.

As the days drew closer to the big move, Spike started to get nervous. He had made no attempt to contact Buffy, and part of him was afraid that she had moved on. Six months was a long time, but he hoped that she had spent the time catching up with her sister.

But what was she doing for money?

He refused to think about it. He refused to let his mind go down that dark path of despair. She would have found work as a waitress, or something….anything rather than sleep with another man.

She couldn’t forget him so quickly……could she?

He couldn’t switch off his brain. Sitting in his office for the last time, surrounded by boxes of paperwork ready to be shipped, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. Missing her terribly, knowing she was out there was almost too much. He loved her more than his own life, and he wasn’t prepared to wait for her to come to him.

He knew that would never happen. Well, if the mountain won’t come to Mohammed…..

Sitting in his office chair, his head in his hands, tormented by dark thoughts he almost missed the opening of the door.

“Just thought I’d pop by, boss” Clem greeted him cheerily.

Lifting his head from his hands, Spike let a melancholy smile cross his face.

“Have you and Xander found a place to live in Sunnydale yet?”

“Yep.” Clem answered. “Nice little three-bed apartment near the docks.”

“You didn’t let anyone know who you were when you leased it, did you?” Spike said alarmingly.

Clem smiled, “No, Spike. There’s no need to worry.” Stepping further into the room, Clem closed the door behind him before taking the chair on the other side of Spike’s desk.

“What about you, Spike?” he asked. “You got somewhere yet?”

A genuine smile lit Spike’s face. It was one of the few that Clem had seen since Spike’s return from Sunnydale. “I’ve bought the house next door to Buffy.”

Shock made Clem’s mouth open wide. “How the hell did you manage that?”

“I was lucky, I suppose.” Spike continued to smile. “That and paying a fortune for the place.”

Clem smiled. Spike was a good employer, and an even better friend. One of the reasons Clem had decided to follow him to Sunnydale was his loyalty. Well, that and the chance of a nice life out of the city.

Looking round the room, Clem noticed the packed boxes for the first time. “When are the movers coming to pick up this stuff?”

Looking at his watch, Spike frowned a little. “They should be here any minute. I better check everything’s ready.” Smiling at Clem, Spike continued. “Wanna help?”

Smiling back, Clem answered. “You think you have to ask?”

Laughing gently, Spike rose from his chair at the same time as Clem. Together they would get this show on the road.

##

Tending bar. All she could find as work was tending bar. The jewellery Spike had lavished on her over the years had long gone. Pawnbrokers were your friend when you had something to sell.

It was now two in the morning, and the house lay quiet. She had quietly let herself in about ten minutes before, her shift over until the next night. Dawn had long since gone to bed, and this was her time. Time to reflect on her come-down in life: time to reflect on just what she had lost.

At first she was glad to see the back of Spike. He had kept her by his side for three years, and she was relieved he went back to New York. However, within a week, she had started to miss him. It wasn’t just the sex; it was the companionship she missed most.

She missed talking to him most of all.

There had been a few times in the past few months when she almost sent him a wire asking him to come back for her and Dawn, but she had resisted. She was determined never to go back to the life she led before, especially now that Dawn knew about her past. If she had nothing else to give her sister, she could teach her to be wary of handsome men with bedroom eyes.

She knew it would take her a while to calm down from her night in the bar and get some sleep. Each night was a battle against the roving hands and the lustful looks of the patrons. Nearly all of them thought that because she sold them beer, she sold herself too. Tonight had been no different. The consolation was that the job paid well, and the tips were good.

In the soft lamplight, she lifted the newspaper from the coffee table. As always, she turned to the Job Vacant page first. She could almost remember the days when that section of the newspaper was many pages long, now you were lucky to see two or three ads.

It was then she noticed it. In big bold type, a new club in town was hiring. Singers, dancers, musicians, waitresses and hat-check girls were required. Inside a strange excitement stirred. This she could do. She was experienced and could perform in front of strangers. Scanning down the type, she noted that auditions would be held in three days time.

It was her big chance. She would be doing what she loved, and still be close to Dawn. It was perfect.

Smiling to herself, she hugged the newspaper close to her chest. In three days time, she would make sure she was first in line for an audition.

##

Spike decided to take a room at the Sunnydale Inn till the club opened. His house was ready, he had been assured, but he didn’t want to alert Buffy to his presence in town just yet. He had placed the ad in the local paper in the hope she would see it. With luck she would appear at the auditions the next day.

He could hardly wait.

Under the cover of darkness he, Clem and Xander had inspected ‘The Bronze’. His agents had done their work well. The club was well set out, and the cellars were full. The lighting was subtle, the tables lit by candlelight. Xander and Clem tested out the new equipment, sound checks resounding in the main hall while Spike inspected the office.

Every nook and cranny was thoroughly gone over. Even the powder rooms were checked to make sure they were presentable. This was going to be the classiest place around. A place fit for the talents of his Buffy.

Inspection over, and a few things that needed worked on noted, Spike poured a whisky for himself and his friends. Toasting their success with a chink of crystal, Spike decided it was time to head home.

If he was lucky, he would see her within hours.

##

Rising early, Buffy took her time with her appearance. What was acceptable in New York might not be acceptable in Sunnydale. Nerves made her clumsy, and it took a few tries before she was happy with her makeup. Clothes were next. She had managed not to sell the fancy clothes from New York, but she had never worn them since coming home. Now she took delight in covering her bed with outfits of every hue.

Dawn sleepily entered through her open door. “Are the auditions today, Buffy?”

Turning her head to look at her sister, Buffy’s smile lit her face. “Yep, Dawn. Today’s the day.”

“Where did you get the clothes, Buffy?” Dawn asked with awe in her voice as she took in the beautiful outfits on the bed.

A small frown line appeared between Buffy’s eyes as she looked down at the clothes. Her excitement waned as she thought of how she had acquired them. She had packed nearly her whole wardrobe from New York when she and Spike had travelled to Sunnydale. She had done it deliberately as she knew she would never be going back.

“I brought them from New York,” was all she could think to say.

Knowing better than to comment, Dawn nodded sagely. Deciding to change the subject, she asked brightly. “Have you seen the new neighbours yet?”

Recognising Dawn’s strategy for what it was, Buffy decided to play along. “Not a sign. I don’t think they’ve moved in yet. Mrs Jackson has been peeking out her drapes day and night for over a week hoping to catch sight of them.”

Both sisters laughed at the image. Mrs Jackson lived across the street, and if there was gossip to be had, then the woman was always the first to find it.

“Well,” Dawn said, “the furniture’s been in there for almost two weeks, so someone must be moving in soon.”

“Maybe,” was all Buffy could think of to say in reply. “Now scoot to your own room and get ready. I need to pick an outfit for this audition.” Lifting a deep green suit from the bed, Buffy studied it carefully.

“I like that one, Buffy” Dawn put it as she left the room. “It’s the exact colour of your eyes.”

Dawn had gone before Buffy let the tears fill her eyes. Spike had said the same thing when he bought it for her. Scrubbing the tears away, Buffy turned to the mirror to repair her makeup.

No time for idle thoughts now, she had an audition to pass.

##

For all his planning, Spike knew that Buffy would know he owned the club the minute she said ‘Hello’ to Clem. She had to find out sometime, and he was determined she come to him. He knew his Buffy well, and if he stayed out of the way in his new office she would come storming in to ask him what the hell he was doing in Sunnydale.

He could hardly wait. Anticipation warred with excitement and he could feel his dick start to respond to his thoughts. In all the time apart from her, he hadn’t looked at another woman. He had remained faithful to her; he just hoped that she had done the same.

The tinkling of the piano softly intruded into his sanctum. The auditions were starting, and he hoped that Buffy was out there. Soon she would be here. He could almost feel her presence. Was it his imagination, or did he love her so much he knew when she was close?

Only time would tell.

One hour later, he was still sitting behind his desk. He had kept himself in check. Every fibre of his being tingled with eagerness as he waited for her body to burst through his door.

Buffy finally made her way to the stage through the side curtain. All the girls had changed in the tiny dressing room that still smelled of new paint, and their names were being called in alphabetical order.

It seemed to take forever to get down to ‘S’.

In shocked disbelief, she stared at Xander sitting smiling behind the piano. Turning quickly to the body of the club, her eyes searched for Spike. If Xander was here, then Spike must own the club. When her eyes fell on Clem, she was sure.

“Where the fuck is he, Clem?” she screamed into the darkness.

Clem had been warned just how she would react, and he had been well prepared with an answer. Slowly and calmly he answered. “He’s out back in the office, Buffy.”

With all the grace of a dancer, Buffy jumped from the stage. She was going to kill him. Visions ran through her head of pulling out his rib-cage and wearing it as a hat as she stalked through the club.

It didn’t take long to find him. Bold as brass she threw open the office door, relishing the sound as it banged back against the wall. Feet slightly apart, and hands glued to her hips, she stared at him with venom.

Oh how he had waited for this. Six long months of hardly being alive, and here she was. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and stamp his possession on her, but that would have to wait.

This time he would woo her as a lover should.

“Well look what the cat dragged in,” he drawled. “Looking for work are we, pet?”

Her eyes narrowed into angry slits. She had wanted this job so badly, but she would never work for him again. She thought too much of herself now to return to being his whore.

“I was, Spike” her smile never reaching her eyes. “But I rather eat my own entrails than work for you again.”

Spike tried not to let the disappointment show. He had planned on hiring her as his main attraction, but this time he wouldn’t try to get her into bed. She would have to come to him.

Shrugging his shoulders, he gave her a grin. “Then this is where we say ‘Good-Bye’, pet.”

“Fuck off, Spike” her parting words hung in the air as she slammed the door.

Staring at the closed door, Spike sat down shakily. She had called his bluff and he didn’t know what to do. He knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t be back.

He had to find another way to win her back.





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