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Buffy walked to the local nightclub alone, hating London’s ever-present rain.

‘Over the one week I have lived here, six of the days were filled with rain. Better yet, the only day off of rain was filled with cloudy skies. Damn, I miss California. Why did I agree to move with Mom? She wanted to start an art gallery, and I wanted a change of scenery. Stupidest idea I’ve ever had,’ she thought bitterly.

She let herself into the club and got out of the rain. The bouncer didn’t even ask for an ID. She smiled and sat down at the bar, ordering a Cosmopolitan. Yet again, her ID was never asked for.

‘Wow. In the States, I wouldn’t even be close to this place legally.’ She shrugged her shoulders and slowly sipped her drink. ‘Been a long time since I’ve had one of these.’ The band for the night was announced, so she turned towards the stage and watched several guys saunter out. She looked at the bartender. “So, what’s the story behind these guys? What’s their sound like?”

“They do a lot of covers,” he answered. “All 70s punk music. If you like the Sex Pistols and The Clash, you’ll be fine.” He went to another customer, and she leaned back on the bar.

‘I’ve never listened to either of those bands.’ A sexy brunette went up to the mike while another brunette sat behind the drums. And then, a gorgeous platinum blonde grabbed a bass guitar and went behind the other mike. The crowd went wild. Buffy smirked and watched the guys in awe, suddenly thankful that she came to the club.

Around eleven, the guys got offstage, and even Buffy clapped for them. They were pretty good surprisingly. She turned back to the bar and ordered herself another drink, not wanting to go home. About five minutes passed before someone sat beside her and ordered a whiskey. She looked out of the corner of her eye to see the platinum blonde bassist. She smirked and looked into her drink. She heard him chuckle, so she looked at him.

“You can look at me, pet- I won’t snap at you,” he said in a sexy British accent.

‘Oh dear god. How could I have forgotten that’d he undoubtedly be British? I’m never going to get used to how sexy those accents are,’ she thought before smiling.

“Why would I look at you?” she asked, amused. He raised an eyebrow. “Tough to sound cocky.”

“An American bird,” he said, smirking. “Should’ve known. You and your pink girly drink.” Buffy frowned.

“Hey!” she said defensively, her lower lip pouting slightly. He extended a hand and she noticed his black nails.

“I’m Spike,” he said, and she shook his hand. He kissed the top of hers softly, looking into her eyes. “And you are?”

“Buffy,” she answered, taking back her hand. He clinked his glass with hers and smiled.

“Nice to meet you, Buffy,” he said, taking a gulp of his whiskey. “So, on vacation here or something?”

“Umm, no,” she answered. “I just moved here.” He cocked an eyebrow. “My mom’s idea. I’m getting used to it.”

“Where are you from then?” he asked. “New York?” It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. “The drink suggests it.”

“California,” she replied. He didn’t seem too surprised. “Not Hollywood or anything. Grew up in L.A., but I lived in a small town for about two years before coming here.” He ordered another drink.

“Want another, luv?” he asked. Buffy shook her head. “Are you sure? It’s on me.” She shrugged. “Dan, one for the lady.”

“Thanks,” she smiled. He smiled back at her. “Good show tonight. I was surprised.” He chuckled.

“Thought we’d suck, eh?” he asked. She laughed, and he leaned to her ear. “Although, I do suck. Do you, too?”

“Guess you’ll have to find out,” she replied, smirking. He kissed the crook of her neck gently. “Spike-“

“Come home with me, baby,” he whispered, running his hand down her back. She hesitated. “Please?”

“I don’t think I can,” she replied. He pouted and ran his hand through her hair.

‘This isn’t good,’ she thought to herself.

“Why not? Your roommate doesn’t like you staying out all night?” he asked.

‘He thinks I’m older. Uh oh.’ She paused. ‘I mentioned something about my mom, didn’t I? Oh well, it’s his fault he overlooked it.’

“Yeah, she likes me home early,” she partially lied, standing up. He gently grabbed her hand in his.

“So call her and tell her you won’t be coming home tonight,” he suggested, kissing her hand again.

“Not feasible,” Buffy replied, looking at her watch- 11:20 PM. “I should’ve already been back.”

“How ‘bout a quickie in the back?” he asked, looking at her with sad puppy dog eyes.

‘So tempting.’ She kissed his cheek.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Buffy began. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow at 7, and you can have me until 11.”

“And when you say that I can ‘have’ you…” he said, grinning. She jokingly rolled her eyes and headed to the door. He caught up to her and stopped her from leaving. “It’s a deal.” Buffy smiled, and he leaned down to kiss her. She kissed him back for a second before backing off and leaving.

Buffy walked home quickly, not wanting to worry her mom. She couldn’t take her mind off of Spike.

‘I think it might be illegal for guys in the States to be that hot,’ she thought, smirking. Joyce frowned when Buffy got in.

“Honey, I know you like going out, but a sixteen year old girl shouldn’t be out on the town by herself in a city she isn’t familiar with yet,” she said before walking into her bedroom. Buffy’s shoulders slumped as she went into her room.

‘I kissed a punk rocker. And he liked me. And I’ll be meeting him tomorrow night.’ She sighed loudly and decided to lay down.




A/N There will be Spuffyness in the next chapter, I promise





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