“Hey there, sweetie. Haven’t seen you here before...”

Oh great, just my luck... The young woman turned around to see who was addressing her.

Ugh--a Billy Ray Cyrus wanna-be. Where did these guys come from? Did they just hatch them here in Sunnydale? Ever since she’d moved to this town she’d seen the weirdest people. Seventies’ throw-backs, punks, rocker chicks... Most of Sunnydale’s population seemed normal enough but the percentage of freaks was pretty high. Maybe it was a West Coast thing, like Seattle...

She squirmed, trying to avoid the weirdo’s grasp. “Uh, I really have to get going. I’ve...got someone waiting for me.” Yeah, that’s good! She stepped to the side to go around him, only to have the lug match her move. It was like a demented folk dance.

“Ah, come on. Whoever he is, I’m sure he can wait a while... Why don’t we go somewhere more... private?”

His smile came across as almost a sneer, making the young woman even more nervous. She’d never been good at confrontation. She was mousy, quiet--she didn’t know the first thing about defending herself. Perhaps she should just knee him in the groin, or just turn around and run. Or maybe both. Either way, she knew she wouldn’t be able to go ahead with it--so she remained rooted on the spot, too scared to do anything but hyperventilate. “Look, I really don’t want to. May--maybe you can find someone else? There are lots of other girls around...” Pleading. Yeah, that was good. She was good at that...

“Nah, I kinda have my sights set on you. You’re real pretty, you know that?” He reached out and took a strand of the girl’s hair between his grubby fingers, licking his bottom lip.

The girl whimpered, then jumped at the sound of someone else’s voice. The thin blonde man who was now standing beside her looked more dangerous than her own assailant, but the vibes he gave off were more comforting than she’d have imagined. Long leather coat, cigarette dangling from his lower lip, attitude coming off him in waves--to anyone else he would have screamed ‘danger’, but to this young woman he was salvation.

“Look, mate, seems she’s not interested. Why don’t you let the bird go, eh?” Spike had been watching the two, noticing the girl’s body language. She sure as hell didn’t want to be anywhere near the wanker and he didn’t seem to be taking no for an answer. But the girl was too meek to do anything about it. Never last long on the Hellmouth, this one. Pity--she looks like a nice enough chit.

He figured he might as well come to her rescue, like the ponce he was turning out to be. First he agrees to help the Slayer and now he’s saving shy girls from poorly-dressed creeps. Ooh, what’s next? Volunteering at the local YMCA?

Billy Ray turned to the bleached blonde with a sneer. “Lookie, buddy--me and the little lady here are just having us a nice talk. Why don’t you piss off?” Ignoring the Brit, he renewed his efforts with the young woman. “Right honey?”

Spike stepped behind the girl and looked at the creep. His eyes turned amber and he flashed the guy a bit of fang. “Don’t fancy on ‘pissing off’ right now, mate. Why don’t you just scamper and leave the girl alone, eh?”

The young woman was relieved to see the jerk run away; watching him fall back on his ass in the process was an added bonus. She let her shoulders drop a bit before turning around to her ‘saviour’. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

The vampire, back to his human guise, shrugged. “It’s nothing, really. Sometimes the power of suggestion is all it takes. You ok?” He cocked his head, making sure that she wasn’t injured in any way.

“Aside from being scared beyond belief?” She smiled at him shyly. “I’m fine. He... he didn’t have time to do anything besides creep me out.”

Nodding, the bleach blonde turned to leave. “Be careful, luv. There are lots of things in Sunnydale worse than country star wannabes. Just make sure you travel with a friend next time.” With that, he walked away, duster swirling behind him.

Shaking her head, smile on her lips, the girl sighed. “Great. Now vampires are warning me about what goes bump in the night. This town just keeps getting weirder and weirder...”

***

“And the drinkmeister delivers...” Xander placed a number of drinks on the table, concentrating very hard on not spilling any of them. Putting on a really bad French accent, he began to distribute the beverages. “A Shirley Temple for you, mademoiselle,” he said, presenting Willow with a tall glass with an umbrella in it; he put a glass in front of his girlfriend: “a Coke for you, madame.” Anya frowned at the non-alcoholic beverage set in front of her. Over a thousand years old, and all she could get was a lousy cola. If it wasn‘t for sex and money, being human would royally suck.

“And, for maman, a nice glass of tomato juice” Xander eyed the glass warily before adding “sorry, but it‘s the only remotely healthy stuff they had. They almost gave you Clamato.” Making a face, the young man added “who wants to drink clam juice anyway?“

Buffy snatched the drink out of his hand. It was bad enough being reduced to ordering juice at the Bronze without having Xander’s demented sense of observation to make it all worse. “Thanks, Xander. I could do without the sick mental image, though. And I thought you failed French?”

The young man hunched his shoulders. “I did, but I guess some of it must’ve stuck. Maybe I channelled Willow for a chapter.”

As he set his own drink in front of him, the brunette grinned widely. “And for me, a nice, tall beer...”

Three sets of eyes shot up at him.

Anya slammed her Coke down on the table. “Xander Harris! How did you get alcohol? I want to know right now, because I want you to get me one too! I’m way older than you. If anyone gets to drink, it should be me!”

“Ahn, I can’t do that. One of the guys from work was at the bar and he bought it for me. I couldn’t really say ‘hey, thanks--can you order a few others for my friends, who are also underage?’” He couldn’t believe his girlfriend sometimes. She had to be the most illogical...

“Well, you could have tried. Maybe I’d be sitting here with a...” She peered at the label on his beer, frowning. “...Michelob. Yes. I could have a Michelob too if you weren’t too...”

“Guys!!”

The bickering couple jumped at the sharp sound of Buffy’s voice. “That’s enough. What, are you trying to test my parenting skills already? Sheesh! Anya--someone legal bought Xander’s beer, that’s why he can’t get you one, and Xander--give her a sip for quiet’s sake.” Taking a sip of her juice, she made a face. “It could be worse, Anya--you could be stuck drinking warm tomato juice. Yech.”

As an uncomfortable silence sullied the friends’ good humour, Willow stood up. “Well, I’m just gonna visit the little witches’ room. I’ll be right back.”

Watching the redhead’s retreating figure, Anya chose to have the last words. “Look what you did, Xander--you made your best friend uncomfortable. If you would have only bought me a beer, she’d still be sitting here with us, happy as always. But...”

***

As Willow made her way back from the washroom, a flash of dark blonde hair caught her eye.

“Tara?”

When the other girl turned around, obviously relieved to see someone familiar, the redhead grinned widely. Never in a million years would she have imagined the shy girl from her Wicca group would really have shown up. Although she said she’d meet her at the club, the dark blonde wasn’t exactly the gregarious ‘loud music and grinding bodies give me a happy’ kind of person.

“Wow! I never thought I’d really see you here!” Her eyes grew, as her mind imagined a blatant faux pas in her greeting. “Oh, not that I think you lie, or that you’re not a fun person, or... or that you don’t like music... What I meant was...” Breathe, WIllow--don’t faint on the cute girl. Whoa!! Cute *girl*?! Where did that come from?

Tara was relieved to have Willow find her. She was funny and outgoing , and not afraid to voice her opinion. She was a refreshing person to be around and, yeah, she was pretty cute, with the short red hair, the sparkling green eyes and the adorable fuzzy outfits. But the blonde was sure that the other woman didn’t ’swing’ that way, as she’d mentioned an ex-boyfriend, so she kept her observations to herself.

Smiling warmly, Tara laid her hand on the babbling redhead’s forearm. Instantly, both girls felt a surge of energy rush through them at the powerful albeit brief contact. Whatever she was about to say escaped her, leaving her mouth ajar and her breath flushed. “So..sorry.. I don’t know what... That’s never happened before.” She removed her hand, immediately regretting the loss of whatever it was that had passed between them.

Willow’s mouth was agape--she just didn’t know what to say. Whatever had passed between the two witches had left her... wanting? The urge to pull the blonde against her, to press her full lips to her own was strong. Eep! Weird thoughts! As she was trying to gather her wits, instead of staring at the other woman slack-jawed, the redhead noticed a shock of bleach blonde hair pass by.

“Spike!”

Tara’s brow creased. “Spike?” What did that mean? Was that a term for what had passed between them? Didn’t really feel like something that should be called ‘spike’. Maybe ‘flutter’ or ‘swoon’ or maybe something else not so ‘Louis Lamour‘, but definitely not ‘spike’... Shaking out of her reverie, she noticed Willow waving someone over. Ah, the blonde vamp who had saved her. Now he looked like a Spike. Must be his name, then, she thought to herself. Very fitting...

“Evenin’, Red.” The blonde seemed to prowl towards them, sleek and powerful as the predator he was. He noticed Tara and a smirk touched his lips. “’Ello, pet. I see you’ve found your friend.” He raised an eyebrow and smiled knowingly. Well, well. Woulda never seen Red playin’ for the other team... He could sense the energy flowing between the two witches as they stood uncomfortably side by side. If nothing had happened yet--they seemed too awkward, too unsure of themselves--he knew something would happen soon. “So, you girls having a nice time?”

Willow’s curiosity was piqued. “Wait a minute, Spike. How do you know Tara?”

Spike’s eyes darted quickly to the blonde before his answer. “I just helped her out with a problem. A very poorly dressed, wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer kind of a problem.”

“Oh, you didn’t... hurt him, did you?” Buffy would be so pissed if she found out that Spike was back to killing people, even if it was to save a girl from a really gross come-on. And she was beginning to like Spike, even with his coarse language and his harsh attitude. His heart seemed to be in the right place and that’s what counted, wasn’t it? Maybe he was like that old silverware that you just needed to polish a bit to make it shine again...

The redhead and the vampire were both shocked to hear Tara answer for him. “No, Willow. There wasn’t any... blood shed.” She said it quietly, leaning in so they could hear it over the din of the music. She knew she’d given away a secret, that she’d sensed what Spike was, but she didn’t want him to be accused of something he didn’t do. “He just scared the guy off, no harm done.” She smiled, laughing a bit. “Well, maybe he bruised his ego when he fell on his rear end trying to run away...”

“Just a minute there, how did you know that I’m a demon? You didn’t see me scare the pillock--I was right behind you.” There was definitely more to this girl than met the eye, that was for sure. She seemed to be a shy, quiet bird but with her back to a wall, Spike imagined that she must be as dangerous as the Slayer herself. ‘S always the quiet ones, innit?...

“I... I can see your aura. I can see that you’re animated, but not really alive. Except that there’s something extra. I haven’t quite figured out what it is, though. But it definitely sets you apart from any other vampire I’ve seen.” The witch scrunched her face in concentration, biting her lower lip in a way that made Willow’s heart beat faster, but gave up with a shake of your head. “You don’t have a soul, do you?”

“Bloody hell! Not on my unlife!” A soul?! Yeah, as if he’d ever end up as pathetic as the Great Gelled one. “Don’t rightly know what else you ‘see’, but I can assure you I’m soulless and lovin’ it.”

They stood there in silence, not knowing what to say to each other until Willow finally piped up. Speaking to both blondes, she offered an invitation. “Why don’t you join me? The gang’s just over there--we’re doing a bit of celebrating tonight. It’s a multi-event party: school’s out, Xander just got a good job, and Buffy’s expecting. We might not be the zaniest group here, but the more the merrier!” She ended with a large grin, hoping to make the sale.

Tara was more than happy to join them. Because of her shyness, she’d never really fit in with any groups. Heck, she’d never really even had any close friends. Smiling at Willow, she didn’t even try to hide her excitement. “I... I’d love to. If that’s ok with everyone. I really wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Goddess, no. Everyone’ll be more than happy to meet you. I’ve...” The redhead ducked her head and blushed. “I’ve kind of talked about you, a little, and they’re curious to meet you.” This was so weird. She felt like she was going to introduce a potential boyfriend to the Scoobies--except Tara was far from a boy, with her curves and her soft lips, and... Narrowing her eyes, she looked at Spike, who was grinning like someone who was in on her secret. He can’t know, can he? What kind of special powers do vamps have--they can’t tell sexual inclinations, can they? No, more than likely it’s 120 years of existence...

If those two witches didn’t get together soon, they’d implode. Spike watched them glance at each other under their lashes when they thought the other wasn’t looking. Furtive, shy glances with much promise. He caught Willow looking at him, something running through that cute head of hers, but he didn’t try to hide his awareness of the situation. Smirking at the redhead, he virtually dared her to ask him what he was thinking. When she failed to speak up, he shook his head.

“Guess I’ll be leavin’ you two birds to your little get-together, then. The night’s still young--there are lots of pups to beat at pool, lots of dosh to be made.” He nodded at them and turned to leave.

Good Goddess that vampire was thick! “Spike, wait!” When the bleached vamp stopped, Willow frowned at him. “The invitation was for you too, you know. We’re having a Scooby get together, and I... I think you should join us. If you want to, that is.” The young witch wasn’t sure how he’d react to the invitation. She had purposely failed to say that he was part of the Scoobies--she knew right off the bat that he’d scoff and flat out refuse. But the surprise in his eyes betrayed any mean things she’d expected him to say.

He wanted to refuse, really he did. What business did he have hanging out with a bunch of people who didn’t give a rat’s ass for him? So what if he went out every night and fought his own kind (and other demons, too)--they never thanked him, never let it be known that he was appreciated. Quite the contrary, actually--he still found himself the object of their derision. Until now, he supposed. Red’s invite surprised him, flattered him even--he would never have expected anything other than the status quo. Tossing a glance back at the pool tables--the players didn’t look as wet behind the ears as he’d have wished, anyway--he decided to accept. “Guess I can pull myself away from the tables for a while. Got myself enough money for beer and blo... poker for the week, anyway.”

Willow squealed and clapped her hands. “Great! Come on, let’s go see what they’re doing!”