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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry I had to take this down a couple days ago, I changed a few things.
The Dead of Night


Later that night…


The darkness of the night matched her mood that evening. Drusilla was sitting outside on a street bench quietly thinking over everything that had been going on lately with William. Her eyes were still slightly red from crying, but she was over that now. It was unbelievable for her to think about how out of control their lives had become. First, they were fine, living together and getting along better than any other couple. Then they moved back to the United States, and William had met Buffy, his apparent obsession. How he could want a blonde over a brunette was beyond her, but this Buffy girl was trouble and Drusilla was just itching for a chance to get back at her for stealing her man. While it may be true that Drusilla was bound to be bored of him soon, recent events had peaked her interest once again. Jealousy, Dru recognized it, she just didn’t have it in her to simply admit it. Revenge was on her mind, no one would take Spike away from her!

This is unbelievable! The never of him! Of her! I have made him the god he is, without me he would still be off living with Daddy-dearest or something. That Buffy is unbelievable, interfering in our relationship! And now what, William, no, it’s SPIKE now, thinks we need to talk! Well screw that! It’s my time to talk, and he’s going to have to sit down and listen until he agrees with me. Look at him, walking over here; just him and all his glory.

“Dru baby, just hear me out. I am so sorry…” Spike started the best way that he could think to. It was not like he didn’t feel bad about everything and he knew he was acting stupid and immature, but he had just felt so strongly about his feelings for Buffy that he couldn’t control himself.

“Hear you out? I think not. I’m done hearing you out. I asked you before if you had feelings for her and you denied it. What about us? We are perfect together! Besides, without me, you would have spent you’re entire life as if you were dead; buried inside your mansion with Daddy!”

Oh crap, Dru’s really not taking this well, of course what else could I have expected?

Truthfully Spike whispered to her, “You are correct. Before I met you, I was just a scared little boy. You were able to break me out of that, give me the courage to live freely. I’ll always be extremely grateful to you for that, but I’ve fallen head over heels in love with someone else. I would never compare her to you, because you have done so much for me. So all I can say is thank you, I’m sorry, and I hope one day you’ll be able to understand and find someone that will love you back as much as you do them.”

“Well William. This is not over yet. The girl has a temporary hold over you, but you’ll come running back to me… and then it will be too late. You had your chance with me and if this is how you want it, this is how you’ll get it.” And with that, she was gone; leaving Spike with the dreadful possibility in his mind that Dru may due something harmful to Buffy.

Sitting on her bed crying, with an ice pack over her shoulder that Drusilla had slapped, Buffy thought about her life. She wondered how Angel was doing; she wondered about what she was going to do about Spike, and she wondered about Drusilla.

Angel, she figured, was probably great, unfortunately. She still missed him, she had always been so sure of him, never doubted him. And here is Spike, he’s hot, he’s nice, and he’s interested in Buffy. But, he had a girlfriend in which he seemed pretty damn devoted to. There was no way Buffy wanted to get in the way of them, nope, none at all. Then again, what if he really was the one for her; was she just going to give him up without a fight?

Screw Drusilla, righteousness, and all other things good and right, Spike was the one for her and she was not going without a fight to the death! Or whatever…

After an hour of searching for Spike, Buffy gave up and decided to hit one of New York City’s hottest clubs by herself; figuring she could use a nice escape root from her life and maybe make a new friend or something, just anything other than staying in her room. This idea however, did not turn out as planned and she ended up at a trashy club called The Fish Tank.

Basically, the place smelled like fish, but not just any fish, dead fish. A color ball was hung from the center of the ceiling of the dark building, as there were not many other lights. The walls were painted in a dark purple with a layer of glitter of some kind painted on top. In the center of the dance floor danced the now drunken blonde surrounded by a few horny guys all at least a foot’s length away from her; for they feared being violently shoved onto their ass like the previous guy who had gotten to close to her.

It may have been a vulgar place, but Buffy was making the best of it. She was working through the pain and confusion, getting lost in the music and dance; using alcohol as her path to a place far away from her life. The world around seemed like a blur, good and evil, pleasure and pain, peace and war. Then she saw him. He was sitting in the back corner, passed out with his head on the table. He looked so pale, awful even. Yet at the same time, like an angel that had fallen down from heaven.

Angel. He was here. Buffy stopped dancing; there she stood in the center of the dance club in New York City staring at him, he had come to her. She walked over to him; was he real, or was she just really out of her mind? She gently touched his face, “Angel?” she softly called.

Nothing. No response. His face was so cold, pale. It clicked inside Buffy’s head, which bolted upright as if she had just been shot. With super human speed, she put two fingers lightly against Angel’s neck; no pulse. He was dead. Shock was once again taking over her body, but as soon as she regained focus, she was suddenly sober and a scream was let out that could have startled the whole city. Breaking down into tears, the next few hours were such a blur for Buffy that she missed the sinister smile of a girl silently walking out of the club.





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