Buffy settled onto the stool next to Spike, who reluctantly had to remove his arm from around her waist. “Well, where do I start? Okay. So, I was supposed to be getting married today. If you hadn’t figured that out yet.”
“Xander probably didn’t, he’s kind of slow,” Faith teased.
“Thanks, babe.”
“So, I’m in the dress. With my maid of honor, fixing my veil, when my cousin stops by. Harmony. And she’s chattering away about how pretty the club is, and how nice my dress is, and how it’s good that Angel and I moved past our problems. And I was like, what now? We had problems?” She took a sip of water before continuing, her tongue loosened by the alcohol and the sympathetic faces around her. “So she stammered and did this whole bit she has where she acts like she’s dumb, which she is, but she also plays it up if that makes sense.”
“Totally,” Faith nodded.
“And then she says that she and Angel---my fiancé---slept together last year. A lot. For an extended period of time. I wouldn’t believe her, but…she had a picture. That she brought with her, so basically she’d come to my wedding planning to tell me.”
All the jaws around her dropped. “Fuck. Bitch,” Xander finally said.
“Yeah,” Buffy found her heart pounding as she relayed her story, but it slowed again as Spike casually slipped his hand into hers. “So, I didn’t know what to do. I had like, ten minutes. And I was wigged. So I went outside for some fresh air, and met Spike, and he offered to get me out of there. So we just…left.” She squeezed Spike’s hand tightly, and he reciprocated with his own squeeze and a kind smile.
“So you rode off on his bike in the big white dress. That is like, the best thing ever,” Faith said.
“Yeah,” Buffy giggled. “Probably looked pretty hilarious. Apparently Angel saw me leave, too, which is…a little satisfying, I have to admit.”
“He did?” Spike said, surprised.
“Yeah. I called Willow, my maid of honor, just to tell her I was alright, and she told me.”
“I’m sorry, B,” Faith said sincerely. “Men suck.” At the offended noises of their two companions, she corrected, “Well, most men suck.”
“Yeah…” Buffy stared down at the countertop as she tried to blink back a sudden, unexpected onslaught of tears. She didn’t like this roller coaster she was on, where one minute she was fine, one minute she was furious, and one minute she was imagining herself back at the club, dancing at her reception, officially Mrs. Angel O’Connor.
“So what are you going to do?” Xander asked, then let out a cry of pain when Faith smacked him.
“Don’t be an asshole, it’s been like, four hours. She doesn’t have to figure it out yet.”
“Sorry,” he pouted. “I was just asking.”
Spike didn’t chime in, although he too was desperately curious as to what Buffy was planning to do. He glanced at her pained face, and said, “Well, you have the story now. Give us a minute, yeah?’
“You’re such an idiot,” Faith dragged Xander away by the front of his shirt.
“I’m sorry!”
“You doing okay, love?” he leaned in and said directly into her ear, not relinquishing his hold on her shaking hand. “What else did your mate say? Willow?”
Sighing, she dropped her head to the countertop with a bang. “I don’t want to care,” she moaned.
“Care?”
Turning her head so her check was resting on the glass, she looked up at him, pouting, eyes almost overflowing. “She said he was really upset. Crying. I’ve never seen him cry. And I shouldn’t care, it was all his fault. Right? I mean, was I a total bitch for leaving? Maybe I should have talked to him, let him explain---“
“Buffy, sit up,” Spike commanded. She obeyed instantly. “Turn, face me. Look at me.” He put his hands on her cheeks, his thumbs stroking small circles on her impossibly soft flesh. Staring at her, he felt some sort of unnatural pull. He wanted to drink the unshed tears in her eyes, wanted to swallow the pout off her lips. Those desires hit him like a ton of bricks, and he almost dropped his hands from her face, like her skin had burned his own.
But he just said, “You did what was right for you. You need to stop living your life according to what other people want. Everything you’ve done since the day you were born has been about pleasing other people, am I right?” She said nothing, but her eyes glistened even more. “I mean, you say you’re sorry for things that don’t need apologizing for, you talk about your choices as if they weren’t your own, like you aren’t the one who knows best for you. You need to let go. You need to live your life for you, pet, no one else. And today was your first step, yeah?”
“What, did you major in psych in college or something?” Buffy finally said when she regained use of her voice.
“Minor.”
“Knew it! You should do motivational speeches!” She giggled, and he reluctantly dropped his hands from her face. “Okay, so Buffy no feel guilty.”
“No guilt.”
“Buffy drink?”
‘Buffy sounds like cave Buffy.”
“Buffy grrr!” They dissolved into laughter, the heaviness of their conversation evaporating. “Okay, pretty sure it’s my question. Is it?”
“Yes.”
“Ha! I asked a question and you answered. Your turn.”
“Oi! Cheating. Can’t think of a good one?” He brushed a bit of her hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear.
“No,” she whined pathetically. “My brain’s all…flooey. I think I’m drunk. But, I have a question now.”
“Go for it.”
She grinned wickedly. “Will you dance with me?”
“That’s your question? Seems like it doesn’t lead to much discussion.”
“No, but you told me to let go. Want to let go with me?”
Spike tried not to read too much into that comment, and admitted, blushing a bit, “I’m not a very good dancer.”
“Aw. I’ll teach you! Come on, don’t turn me down. Please?” She hopped off the stool and stood behind him, resting her chin on his shoulder and looking at him pleadingly.
“Bloody hell, what man can resist that look?” He sighed. “Fine, but don’t you dare make fun of me or you will be severely punished.”
“I would never,” she said seriously, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the dance floor. “Come play.”
Spike let himself be dragged, and muttered, “Bossy bint.”
“Okay, lesson the first.” Buffy pretended not to hear him and wrapped his hands around her waist. “Close your eyes and listen to the music. Let it wash over you.”
He obliged, and listened carefully to the hard rock beat. Suddenly, he felt her body close in on his, then press against him, and he stifled a gasp. “Okay. Listening to the music. Check.”
They began to move back and forth, Buffy easily finding the beat and leading him into it with her. “Lesson the second, it’s not about knowing the moves, or the right steps. This isn’t classical ballet. Just do what feels right.” With his eyes closed, her voice wrapped around him, smooth as honey, convincing him to be brave and wrap his hands around her tiny waist, and spin her around so her back was pressed up against him.
“Like that?” He whispered in her ear. She nodded, and he inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of her sugary perfume, the faint hint of her shampoo, and a smell he’d first become aware of when she’d climbed onto his bike, a smell that was purely Buffy.
Her hands grasped his, where they settled on her flat stomach, and their fingers intertwined, gripped tight, as the beat of the song sped up. Spike felt himself reacting to the closeness of her body, the feel of her flesh, and bit his own cheek to try and calm down. His lack of success embarrassed him, but Buffy didn’t seem to care as she pressed harder back into him, surely able to feel the evidence of his arousal.
After a moment of blissful contact, she twirled away then spun back so they were face to face again, and smiled up at him happily. “Lesson the third. Have fun. Are you having fun?”
“That I am,” he grinned down at her in that same goofy way.
As the song ended, Buffy pulled away from him. All of sudden, she’d felt this unwanted urge to grab Spike, to kiss him. And she knew that was definitely not what he wanted from her, and not what she needed, not really. He was being nice to her, nicer than she deserved, and she didn’t want to screw it up by assuming he’d want to assuage her grief in another way.
“See, you aren’t a bad dancer!” She said cheerily, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him back towards the bar. Dazed, he trailed after her like an obedient puppy, willing in that moment to go wherever she ordered him to, even if it was right off a cliff. “What time is it?” She asked as they returned to their seats.
He checked his watch. “About nine thirty.”
“Wow, it’s early.”
“Well, we did start drinking at five,” Spike teased, offering her a sip of his beer, which she accepted.
“Yes, but I am not remotely tired, nor have I reached my limit! And it’s your question, buster.”
“Um. Buster?”
“What? You have all these pet names for me, like…”
“Pet?” he supplied obviously.
“Yeah, like pet! So you’re buster, until I think of something better.”
Spike winced. “You have to come up with a better name than buster. Something a little…manlier, yeah? Something tough.”
“Something that demonstrates your sinister attraction?” Buffy giggled.
“Teasing me, are you?” He growled, leaning down so their faces were inches apart, eyes glittering with playful wickedness. “Don’t make the big bad angry, little girl.”
“Oh yes, you’re so big and bad,” she challenged, straightening up to meet his gaze head on. “I could so take you.”
Spike growled again and leaned into whisper into her ear. “Kitten’s got claws, yeah? I like it.”
“Yup, I’m a kitten with claws, and I think you’re more like…a harmless little bunny. It’s so cute.”
“I’m not cute! And I’m not a bunny!”
Buffy giggled and kissed his cheek. “You are cute. And sweet. But also very big and bad.”
“Don’t you forget it,” he huffed. “I believe it’s my question. What were the best and worst days of your life?” The latter, he figured he knew the answer, the former, he wondered if this girl could even say.
“Oh, so we’re getting deep again.” She wrinkled her nose in thought, then she had a small epiphany, the kind of realization that can only come when you’re not quite part of your own mind, when you lose a little of your self control. Her epiphany was courtesy of alcohol. “Worst day? Today. Best day? Today.”
He looked confused. “What made today so special?”
“Well. I met you.” A blush stained her cheeks as she realized what she said, and she stuttered, “I mean, well, this night could have been awful and it’s not and if I hadn’t met you this day could have been…badder than badness. I didn’t mean you, like, meeting you and you---“
“I know exactly what you meant, sweets,” Spike interrupted stilling her frantic ramblings with a gentle brush of a kiss on her bare shoulder. “I’m glad to have met you too.”
[Reviews - 418]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 3211 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry for the bit of a delay! Life abroad is freaking crazy, but I do have Internet in my room, yay for me, so hopefully there won't be quite as long of a wait for the next chapter. Thanks so much for all your reviews, enjoy the story!