Buffy was shocked at the change in the atmosphere around the house for the next few days. She’d always considered herself to be extremely perceptive, and Gunn mocked what he called her “pseudo-psychic reliance on auras”, but she had, oddly, felt comfortable in this environment. People were friendly, the mood was light, and with the sun shining in through the huge windows all over the mansion, it was hard to imagine anything bad ever happening here.
But with the news of Angelus’s imminent arrival, the entire tone shifted. Spike was cranky. Fred was stressed. Xander’s jokes were not nearly as funny, and Lorne’s perpetually peppy attitude started to grate on everyone.
On Friday, house was busy with preparations for this grand party Angelus seemed to require on the night of his arrival. Lorne had taken charge of the party planning, and his excitement over the whole affair hadn’t really spread to anyone else, although Buffy did what she could to share in his enthusiasm. The entire place was scrubbed from the ceiling to the floor, and filled with a gorgeous assortment of roses, orchids, and lilies. The furniture in the huge living room disappeared, to be replaced with buffet tables lining one side and a small stage for the three piece orchestra. The back patio was decorated with hundreds of candles. Everything was ready.
“BUFFY!” Buffy heard Spike yell from his office the morning of the event. She sighed and tore herself away from her computer, praying she hadn’t done anything to set him off. He’d already yelled at the caterer and the decorator that day, and she really didn’t want to be the hat trick.
“You don’t have a dress,” he frowned as soon as she entered. At her blank look, he said slowly, “For. The. Party.”
“I---no,” she worried. “I didn’t think I was going?”
He sighed loudly. “Of COURSE you’re going. Jesus. Everyone is. Why’d you think I made Xander and Gunn get a tux?”
“For…for security?” Buffy said, having not given the matter a lot of thought.
“Bloody hell. Go shopping with Fred. Do your girly bit. She’ll put it on the company card. Have fun.”
Fred and Buffy came home later that day in far better moods than when they’d left. Just being away from the oppressive stress of the house had done wonders for them. They’d giggled their way through four dress shops, had lunch, and gotten their hair done, before returning to the mansion.
From the way Fred had said Gunn’s name, Buffy was more than certain that the woman had feelings for him. She was musing over the possibility of staging a friendly break-up that wouldn’t cause problems just so the two of them could get some action. Although, Buffy had to keep reminding herself, Fred wasn’t her friend. She was…friendly, but she was just as much under investigation as Spike was. No, getting involved with anyone in this house was just too dangerous. Anyone.
After Fred told her what time to be ready and to just relax until then, Buffy went to hunt down Gunn to discuss their agenda for the evening.
“Well don’t you look handsome,” Buffy smiled as Gunn emerged from the bathroom, fussing with his bow tie.
“I look like a waiter,” Gunn grumbled.
“A sexy waiter,” she giggled. “You’re ready pretty early aren’t you?”
“I’m in charge of checking in the guests with Xander,” he said. “Have to get up there soon. What’s your job?”
“I—I don’t think I have one,” she said. “Spike hasn’t said anything to me.”
“How nice for you. Lazy.”
“That’s me, lazy Buffy,” she rolled her eyes. They began to discuss that evening’s goals. It was the perfect opportunity for a bit of snooping—tons of people around, lots of activity, and plenty of information to be ferreted out on the sly. Of course, their discussion wasn’t out loud, rather, passed on notes back and forth like they were in elementary school. While they had yet to find any sort of bug or listening device in their room, they couldn’t be too careful. Once they were done, Buffy said, “I have to prettify. So stop messing with your tie, let me fix it, and get out of my way.”
She tied it expertly and sent him upstairs, then headed into the bathroom to make herself presentable. With great care and precision she applied makeup, heavier than her usual foundation and mascara, and fiddled a bit with her hair. The stylist at the fancy Beverly Hills salon had put it up in hot rollers, so a halo of loose golden curls framed her face and fell to her shoulders..
“Buffy?” Fred called from outside her door. “I’m heading upstairs, come on up when you’re ready?”
“Just a few minutes!” Buffy replied, glancing at the clock and hurrying to slip into her new dress. The second she’d tried it on Fred had insisted she buy it, despite its hefty price tag. It was form-fitting down to her hips where it swirled out in a loose skirt to the ground, with tiny spaghetti straps and a low v-neck, made of layers of pink netting so light it was almost flesh toned, and covered in a scattering of crystals and pearls. She had to admit, with her tanned skin, the dress had quite an effect.
She slipped into her silver high heels and appraised herself once more in the mirror before rushing upstairs.
She could already hear the sounds of guests, and berated herself for being a little late. Hopefully, Spike wouldn’t be too mad.
He was here. Sauntered in like he owned the place, Darla on his arm, a cocky grin plastered on, he instantly caused Spike to want to punch him in the face.
Instead, he plastered on a confident smile of his own, and walked up to meet Liam Angelus.
“Spike, old boy!” Angel said. “What a cute little party you’ve given me here.”
“Angel, Darla,” Spike greeted them. “How was your flight?”
“Oh, dreadful,” Darla sighed, pursing her fire engine red lips, painted no doubt to match the scarlet dress she must have been poured into. “First class is not what it used to be.”
“So how’s everything going around here?” Angel asked pointedly.
“Now, now,” Spike said. “No business tonight, yeah?”
“He’s right, honey,” Darla simpered. “Business is dreadfully boring. I’m off to get a cocktail.”
Spike turned back to Angel after watching the woman saunter away. “No wife tonight?” He asked, his voice dripping with disdain.
“You know Dru,” the taller man laughed. “Last minute, had some vision of who knows what and decided the stars weren’t aligned whatever way they should be.” Something seemed to catch his attention, and he ended their conversation, “Well, I’m off to make nice with the locals.”
Spike nodded, grateful that their inevitable confrontation could be postponed for a while longer. He headed off to find a drink.
Buffy always felt awkward at parties, ever since her first in high school when her best friend found a boy to make out with and left her alone. She’d been talking to Fred, who then headed off to handle some crisis with the caterers, and Xander and Gunn were at the front doors screening the guests. She’d graciously slipped out of a conversation with Lindsay MacDonald and another lawyer, Lilah Morgan, when the two began to have a heated fight that Buffy sensed would only lead to some passionate hate sex. She took a sip of her champagne, and then smiled as Lorne danced up to her.
“Sugarplum, you are the most gorgeous thing in the room, you know that right?” Lorne said, offering her a canape from his plate.
“You look pretty handsome yourself!” Buffy replied, waving off the food and kissing the proffered cheek of her co-worker.
“Having fun?”
“Not much of a party girl,” Buffy shrugged.
“Oh come on!” Lorne said. “Relieve some stress, dance the night away with that gorgeous boy of yours. I’ll be offended if you don’t enjoy my party.”
Buffy waved as he danced away, then felt a chill creeping up her spine as she noticed a tall, dark, and handsome man approaching her.
She recognized him instantly as Liam Angelus.
“Hello, beautiful,” he smiled at her. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“No, we haven’t,” she said, sticking out her hand formally. “I’m Buffy Joyce, I work for Spike.”
“Oh, the new computer girl!” He said, holding onto her with a firm grip just a tad longer than necessary. “Not what I’d expected.”
“Oh really?” Buffy replied, every inch of her skin crawling as she stared at this man she had so much fear of. “What were you expecting?”
“Glasses, for one,” Angel laughed. “And maybe a pocket protector, do they still make those? I take it you know who I am?”
“I have an inkling.”
“Well, then you know it wouldn’t be the greatest idea to turn me down when I ask you a very important question.”
Every organ inside Buffy’s body tensed up.
“Would you care to dance?” He finished with a leer.
Spike was wandering around the party, talking to the important people he encountered, but all the while keeping his eyes out for Buffy.
When he spotted her, his breath caught in his throat, and all the blood in his body moved directly south. She was a vision, a sun-kissed gift all wrapped up in sparkles, glowing as she smiled and laughed. He stepped forward towards her, the person making her laugh coming into view.
Angel.
He moved forwards as if running to catch her from a painful fall.
“Buffy?” He said as casually as he could as he walked up to them. “I need to speak with you for a moment.”
“We were just about to dance, Captain Peroxide,” Angel joked, with a hint of malice in his eyes.
“I just remembered something strange in the files you were working on earlier,” he said to the girl, ignoring Angel’s comment entirely. “Won’t take long.”
“Of course! Of course,” Buffy agreed, handing her empty champagne flute to the passing waitress. “It was nice speaking to you, Mr. Angelus.”
She followed Spike towards his office, eyes traveling down to just how good his ass looked in his tuxedo pants. She snapped out of that train of thought, however, when he spun around with a hard look on his face and ordered, “Shut the door.”
“This isn’t about files, is it?” Buffy asked as she did what he requested.
“No. Why were you…” Spike seemed to reconsider. “What were you talking to Angelus about?”
“He came up, introduced himself, asked me to dance,” she said, confused. “Nothing to write home about.”
“Buffy…” Spike again trailed off, rubbing his forehead. “You need to stay away from him.”
“Isn’t he technically, sort of my kind of boss too?”
“No,” he shouted. “You work for me. And I’m telling you to stay away from Liam Angelus!” At Buffy’s surprised and almost frightened look, he calmed himself down. “I’m sorry I yelled at you pet.”
“That’s okay,” she shrugged. “I’m just…confused.”
“It’s complicated. I just want you to remember this, if you don’t remember anything else. He can be charming, he can seem kind. But please, love, remember. That man…Angelus doesn’t have a soul.”
Buffy took in the concern, fear, and sincerity swirling about in Spike’s blue eyes. She nodded. “Okay, I’ll…be careful,” she carefully said, knowing full well that she couldn’t actually agree to stay away from Angelus.
“We should get back to the party,” Spike said, opening the door for her. As she started to walk through it, he stopped her with a gentle hand on the small of her back. “And Buffy? You look bloody gorgeous.”
She felt his compliment create a blush across her cheeks, and he smirked before sauntering away.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Another quick update for you! Hope it leaves you wanting more...Standard disclaimer, standard request for reviews!