Spike was barely concealing the fact that he was watching Buffy’s dance with Angel quite closely. His eyes were narrowed in concentration as he applied the blue chalk to the end of his pool stick.
“Hey there, buddy, I don’t think there’s gonna be any chalk left by the time you’re done and, you might start whittling the tip away too,” Xander said good-naturedly, though somewhat nervously.
Spike looked over at him, unconcerned. He held onto pool stick; though he did place the chalk on the table. “What’s the story over there?”
Xander came over to stand beside him. “Oh you mean the brunette that is failing miserably at not looking like a gigantic slut? That’s Cordelia and –“
“No, not her. Buffy and Angel. What’s the story with them? They like each other or something?”
“Well, or something kind of, but not. . . “ Xander trailed off looking hopelessly at Willow who was currently saving the table against the wall for them as the boys played pool, or rather, prepared to play pool.
Willow slid off the high stool and placed her coat on it and came over. “They’re friends.”
Spike raised a scarred brow, looking at her as if to say ‘I know you’re lying’. Xander nodded profusely.
“Friends don’t dance all close like that, all close and intimate,” Spike noted, frowning as he watched the pair. “You can tell me Red. I’m just looking out for our girl’s best interests.”
Willow chewed her bottom lip, “But, I don’t know that Buffy would want us to disclose her secrets like that—“
“Ah, so she does like him,” Spike said, nodding.
Willow flushed and looked at Xander with wild eyes.
Xander patted her back. “It’s okay, Wills. Why don’t you go back to the table, okay? Take a breather?”
Willow nodded dumbly and shuffled off.
“Okay, look,” Xander said forcefully and placed his hand on Spike’s leather-clad shoulder.
Spike rose his scarred brow yet again and Xander chuckled nervously, “Would you look at that? Not smart, right?” he took his hand off immediately, as if he’d been burned. “Now, we know that you and Buffy date back to under roo’s and all that stuff, but Buffy is our friend now. We’re just looking out for her—“
“So am I, mate. She was my best girl back in the day. Time’s passed, yeah, but I still don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“Sounds like Angel was your ‘mate’ too.”
Spike shrugged, “Was, past tense.”
“So. . . and I realize I risk my life and limb here, so does that mean that if he were interested in Buffy, he’s not your ‘mate’ any longer.”
Spike didn’t answer, but turned back to the pool table, eyeing it with critical eye. “We ready to start this or what?”
Buffy nearly skipped back to her friends with Angel in tow. She was smiling, feeling light and happy and then, finally making it to her friends, the tension surrounding them hit her like a wall. Xander was shuffling nervously, Willow looked despondent and Spike wasn’t even looking up at her.
She frowned. “What’s up?”
Xander looked relieved to see her. “Spike’s kicking my ass,” he said with more gusto than necessary.
Spike finally looked up after sinking the 8 ball and smiled at her, just her. “Hello, cutie.”
Her pulse jumped-started at that and she swallowed, “Hi.”
“May I?” Angel asked, reaching for Xander’s pool stick.
Xander looked at him, “Thank you,” he said with serious gratitude.
Buffy came over to Willow and sat down on the stool across from her, “Everything okay?”
Willow nodded, but wouldn’t look at her.
“Willow Rosenberg, what’s going on?”
“Whaddya mean?”
“I mean, I know something is wrong when you won’t look at me.”
Willow finally looked up at her, full of regret, “Buffy, I’m sorry.”
“For?” Buffy asked slowly, bracing herself.
Xander came over, “She spilled the beans on you and Angel to Spike.”
“Thanks a lot, Xander! You weren’t exactly stealth-guy over there. Who had to come over and bail you out?” Willow exclaimed.
“Whoa, whoa, hold the phone,” Buffy gestured for them to get closer before asking quietly, “What does Spike exactly know regarding Angel and I?”
“That you kind of like each other,” Willow mumbled.
“Did you just offer the information?” Buffy asked, nearly shouting. Spike and Angel looked over and she smiled brightly before ducking her head.
“No, he asked what the story was and by our non-responses, he pretty much gathered the information he needed,” Xander confessed. “He’s good. He’s like. . . I don’t know what he’s like, but he’s good.”
Buffy sighed and sat back, her eyes closing briefly. “I kind of wanted to avoid him knowing that just yet.”
“We tried not to say anything, really!” Willow jumped in. She glared at Spike, “He’s relentless.”
“So, why did you want to keep it secret if he’s all with being your best friend again?” Xander asked slyly, trying to turn the tables on her.
Buffy gave him a look, “Because I. . . I. . . “
“Like him?” Willow supplied.
Buffy scrunched up her face in frustration.
“Well, judging by the deadly game of pool he’s playing over there with Angel, I think he might like you too,” Xander observed, popping some peanuts in his mouth.
Looking over, it did look as if Spike and Angel were engaged in quite a deadly game of pool. Spike was concentrating hard and the way his jaw was clenching and unclenching as Angel sunk a ball, he looked about ready to pounce. And not in a good way.
“Can I have a sodding go?” Spike barked at Angel.
Angel looked at him, taken back, “But I sunk it. I get to go again.”
“You’re cheating,” Spike accused.
Angel blinked and furrowed his brow, “Excuse me? How can I be cheating? I either get the ball in or I don’t –“
“You never said you were good at pool.”
Angel leaned a hip against the table and regarded him thoughtfully, “You never asked. Was I supposed to whip out my credentials when you asked me to play pool?”
“You could have given an opponent a hint.”
“Do you want to continue the game or --?”
“Just shoot the bloody ball,” Spike nearly snarled.
“What the hell crawled up your ass and died?” Angel demanded.
They faced off, glaring openly at each other and Buffy rushed in. “Hey, now, why don’t we take a break from pool then, okay?”
Spike threw his stick on the table, “I’m getting a drink,” he muttered angrily and stalked off.
Leaning over the bar, trying to convince the bartender to put a little Jack in his coke, Spike was bumped into by someone. Looking up he noticed a pale, raven-haired beauty with ruby red lips.
“Hello, darling,” she purred and, he noted, she had an accent.
“Ah, another Brit.”
She smiled and leaned into him slightly, placing her hands on him lightly. She was. . . mesmerizing. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He wasn’t sure if it was because of how different she was from Buffy – while Buffy was golden and summer, this girl was dark and winter, or if he was intrigued by how bold she was to be coming up to him and placing her hands on him, looking at him with what could only be seen as seductive.
“I’m Drusilla. Your name?”
“Spike,” he answered.
She smiled, “Care to dance, my Spike?”
He hesitated and then caught sight of Buffy talking with Angel, and looked at Dru with a seductive grin of his own. “Sure thing, pet.”