The pair descended the stairs, hand in hand.
“Buffy! You look—“ Xander stopped abruptly as Faith smacked him on the arm. “Absolutely off limits.”
“Keep dreaming, she’s out of your league,” his girlfriend smirked, showing no jealousy. “Phone call made?”
“Yep, all set,” Buffy nodded animatedly, determined to enjoy the rest of her evening and push any more sad thoughts from her mind.
“Okay then,” Faith said formally, gesturing to a row of amber liquid filled glasses. “Then, as the official start to our evening, I propose shots!”
“What are we toasting?” Buffy asked as she picked up a small glass, sniffing it apprehensively.
“It’s whiskey. To new beginnings?” Spike suggested, raising his drink in the air.
“I like that,” she nodded, raising her shot as well. “To new beginnings.”
They all clinked their glasses, and gulped their shots down. Only Buffy coughed a bit, rubbing herself on the chest, wrinkling her face and shivering unintentionally to ease the burn of the liquor as it made it’s way into her belly.
Spike rubbed her back worriedly. “Okay, pet?”
“Oh, yeah. Awesome. Just never had whiskey before,” she admitted shyly.
“Seriously?” Faith said. “Man, first time I had whiskey, I was like, twelve.” At the astonished looks all three gave her, she shrugged. “What? I’ve had a life.” She and Xander moved behind the bar to deal with customers, as the bar began to fill up with more thirsty bodies.
“Most of my drinking has been keg beer and wine with my parents,” Buffy shrugged in embarrassment, letting Spike lead her to the corner of the counter where two empty stools sat. “I guess I’m not exactly the most experienced drinker. And no more whiskey for Buffy.”
“No shame in that. Pace yourself, remember,” Spike whispered into her ear, settling his hand on her lower back as he guided her.
The alcohol started to warm her body, and she smiled up at him appreciatively. “You’re going to help me pace, right?”
“Of course, kitten. Don’t want my girl drowning herself along with her sorrows.”
Buffy blushed a bit at his choice of words and smacked him lightly. “You goof.”
“I am a goof,” he laughed. “I vote you rest a bit, a beer, two drinks and a shot in a few hours should be more than plenty, especially if you aren’t used to it. Let me know if you aren’t feeling well, though.”
“NO, I am feeling mighty fine.” She giggled. “And hey, you changed too. Xander’s clothes?” He’d dumped the tux and put on a tight black t-shirt, and dark denim jeans.
Spike snorted a laugh. “No, he doesn’t dress nearly as well as I do. I actually rent a room in the back of the bar. Only a few steps and I was home to take a quick shower.”
“Well, you do smell nice,” she leaned in a bit closer. “So, my question now?”
“Nope, we’re not done with the previous topic.”
“We’re not?” Buffy pouted her glossed lips. “I was so hoping we were.”
“We can if you really want to be, I won’t force you,” Spike looked wounded, and his full lower lip slid out into an unintentional mirroring of the girl’s pout. Buffy eyes traveled to it briefly, than snapped back up to his eyes.
“No, no, it’s fine, I’m…not sorry. What do you want to know?”
“Just curious, is all. What you said about your mum and da sounded pretty important to you,” he said casually, reluctant to let on just how desperate he was to know anything she’d tell him about herself.
“What’d I say?”
Spike narrowed his eyes at her. “Don’t play games, you sassy little chit.”
Buffy winked at him. “I am sassy, aren’t I?’
“That you are, pet. You were talking about your parents’ marriage, if I recall correctly.”
“Ah. Fine. Well, they’ve been together like…twenty-five years or something. Long time. And I don’t think they’re exactly happy, but neither one of them has any reason to get a divorce.” Buffy started fiddling with the hem of her dress, trying to pull it down to cover a little more of her thighs. She was unsuccessful, and Spike was admittedly glad about that.
“Why not?” He prodded.
“Well, Mom’s got the money and the society status, Dad’s got a woman who’ll do all the good image stuff and go to functions and doesn’t call him out on his affairs. Perfect relationship. Are we done now?” Her pretty face was twisted into a hardened, practiced mask of disinterest, as she turned and surveyed the bar. “It’s getting busy in here.”
“Yeah, usually is on Saturdays. Alright, pet, your question, I’ll save my extra one for later.” He reluctantly let her choose a new topic, but filed away her remarks in the new fascinating file in his brain solely devoted to Buffy.
“Okay, goody,” the mask fell and she smiled at him again. The thought flashed through Spike’s mind that nothing had ever made him feel more successful in life than making her smile like that. “Tell me about your first love.”
“Oh, we’re getting deep, now?”
“Yes! I’ve imbir…imbr…”
“Imbibed?” He chuckled
“Yes. Enough alcohol now, and its deep time.” She crossed her legs and shifted in her seat, so her knees were pressed up against his thigh.
Spike checked, “You feel alright though?”
“Yes, sir!” She nodded happily.
He smiled, then confessed, “High society bird, name of Cecily, was in love with her all of my youth. Told her how I felt when I was about…sixteen.”
“And what’d she say?”
“Said I was beneath her.”
Buffy gaped at him. “You’re kidding me.”
“Nope. Wrote her a poem, she shot it down, said I was nothing to her.” Years later, the words still held a miserable power over him, and despite his attempts to hide their affect, Buffy clearly sensed his pain.
“Oh, William,” she said softly, resting one hand on his forearm and lightly stroking it in circles. “She was obviously stupid and blind and stupid.”
He chuckled, and glanced down at her small hand on his arm. “Not really. I was a nancy boy in tweed writing bloody awful poetry for a woman I hardly knew. Took it hard, but got over it.”
“Well, is that what turned you into big bad Spike?”
“You’re very perceptive,” he smiled. She was still touching him. “Got in a band, dyed my hair, showed her I wasn’t so beneath her after all.”
“Way to be,” Buffy giggled, and slid her hand down Spike’s arm to play with his fingers. “Did you ever tell her off?”
“Nah. By that point I was over her, moved on. Last I heard she was marrying a baron or something, popping out kiddies left and right.”
“Oh, God, I don’t want children yet! I kill my goldfish.”
“Yeah, I’m not really on the daddy track yet either. Too much out there to see.”
“Like what?” Their hands fully linked together, and Buffy tried to suppress the shiver that crept up her spine as Spike brought their clasped hands into his lap and spun her on her chair so they were facing each other.
“Nu-uh, miss, it’s my question.”
“Come on, it’s within the context of conversation! It’s not a new topic. Learn the rules, Spike.” She stuck her pink tongue out at him and wiggled it.
“Fine, fine, mistress of the game, I bow to your wisdom.” He waved his hand at Faith and summoned her over. “Water for the lady?”
“No problem. Then, B, I’m wanting to shake my ass once I’m freed from working for no pay. You up to dance?”
“Oh, definitely. I am ready to hit the floor.”
“Nice, one water coming up.”
Once Faith had set down the glass and left, Buffy took a sip then continued, “Okay, Spike. So you want to travel?”
“That I do. Lived in England for twenty two years, came straight out here. There’s a lot of things out there to see besides London and Sunnyhell.”
“Sunnyhell! Oh, that’s funny.” She collapsed into a giggle fit.
Spike waited for her to calm down, then asked, “Lived here your whole life?”
“That your question?”
“Suppose so.”
“Then, yes. Well, no. Kind of.”
“Change your mind a few more times?” He teased.
“Oh, shush, you.” Buffy pushed his shoulder gently. “Lived in LA for like, a year, when I was born. But other than that I’m a Sunnydale girl. Almost went off for college but my parents didn’t let me.”
“Where did you want to go?”
“Well, I mean, I didn’t necessarily want to go there. But I got into Northwestern. In Chicago.”
“That’s impressive,” Spike smiled.
“Yeah,” she shrugged modestly. “But, my parents wanted me to stay close, so I did.”
He contemplated that for a moment, then said gently, “Is that what you wanted to do?”
The question didn’t offend her as he’d feared it might, she just bit her lip and looked thoughtful. “I wanted to make my parents happy. I was eighteen, I didn’t know what I wanted.”
“Three years later, you’re wise and knowledgeable now?”
“Hardly. Still have no idea what I want. But, yeah, I kind of wish I’d gone. Moved somewhere else, tried something new. Now I’m going to be stuck here forever.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“Well, Angel wants to---“ Buffy face fell as the words came out of her mouth and the alcohol keeping her memories at bay lost some of its power. “Kind of forgot about that for a bit.”
“Angel, that was your husband to be?” She nodded. “Pretty stupid name, if you ask me.”
“Yeah, his real name is Liam, but he’s been Angel since we were kids.”
“You’ve known him for that long?”
“Yep. Since elementary school. He’s three years older than me, but our parents were friends. My dad works for his.”
“Wow. That’s a long relationship.”
“Well, we didn’t start dating until my freshman year of college. But yeah, it was always kind of…understood. That we’d get married.” Buffy felt an uncomfortable tightening in her chest as the conversation took a turn in the direction she didn’t want to go.
“Understood?”
“B! Dance with me!” Faith bounded over happily and interrupted. “Larry showed up to man the bar, so I am free to party it up.”
“Sure!” She turned to Spike and gave him a quick, impulsive peck on the cheek. “Be back in a bit, unless you want to join.”
“No, you two have fun.” He watched the two skip off, already narrowing his eyes at the crowd of guys watching them intently from a pool table.
“We need to get you drunk and happy,” Faith said as she spun Buffy onto the dance floor. “Best cure for heartache.”
“I’m halfway to drunk, but far from happy. Let’s dance.”
A thudding bass beat overtook the bar, and Buffy and Faith began to move with it, lacing their fingers together over their heads, tossing their hair and gyrating their hips seductively. Spike felt his heart stop as he watched Buffy transform before his eyes. She’d been a goddess and now she was a nymph, attracting the attention of everyone in the room, sending shocks of want throughout his body, making his lips part and his mouth dry up.
Buffy let the music control her thoughts and body, let Faith guide her into a circle of men, and closed her eyes as she tried to block out any thoughts that weren’t about the here and now.
Spike felt his hand clench on the edge of the bar as men surrounded the two dancing girls. If it weren’t for the fact he knew Faith could, and would, kick the ass of anyone who touched Buffy without her permission, he would storm over there and knock each of the men flat on their backs. Something deep within him wanted to claim the dancing blonde as his own, and his conscience battled with his lust as he watched her.
Buffy and Faith moved closer, giggling, enjoying the appreciation of the group around them but spinning out of the way anytime one tried to get too close. Adrenaline began pumping in their veins, the alcohol began to work it’s seductive power, and both turned up the heat, lightly touching each other, moving closer and dancing back to front.
Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy could see Spike watching her intently, an indecipherable expression on his face. She found herself performing with him in mind, as she swayed her hips more she felt a rush of control, as he didn’t even blink, just stared at her absorbedly. Buffy held his gaze for a few long moments, then shot him a quick, seductive grin before returning her attention to her dance partner, heart fluttering. Spike’s eyes blazed with unbridled lust as she turned away, and he took a deep, shuddering breath.
“B, I think we need shots,” Faith said when the song ended, dragging off the blonde without even a backwards glance at their admirers.
“Have fun?” Spike asked so softly when they approached that Buffy had to lean in to hear him.
“I did. Faith’s offering shots?”
“No need to ask my permission, pet,” he tickled her side.
“Yes, sir, you’re right, sir,” her eyes sparkled as she leaned closer into his body. Spike wrapped his arm around her and lightly stroked her arm as Xander came over with drinks.
“Ooh! Is that vodka?” Buffy asked excitedly, snuggling closer to the warm body next to her, finding that she could only truly breathe and feel relaxed when he was near her.
“Very expensive vodka,” the bartender grumbled good-naturedly. “Faith wouldn’t have any less.”
“I’m classy, what can I say! Now drink up, B, and then I want to hear your story.”
Spike’s grip on the girl tightened a bit protectively. “Faith, don’t push—“
“No, no,” Buffy said firmly, drinking her shot down, making a small face, then continuing, “It’s definitely story time.”
Feedback would be oh so greatly appreciated! Something to feed the muse on my long, long flight... ;)
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Much thanks to everyone who took the time to review! I'm glad everyone is having as much fun reading this story as I'm having writing it. I'm off on my trip tomorrow, but you'll definitely be getting a new chapter sometime next week, hopefully before Wednesday. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think!