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Thanks for everybody's opinion! Hopefully, you guys'll like where I'm taking this... I think you will. And so... here it is!


Ch. 26 Spotlights

New York City

Spike tugged at the top button of his shirt, uncomfortable with the whole "dress nice" deal that Angel had surprised him with five minutes before leaving the old, grimy hotel they were staying at. The button popped out and he exhaled in relief. The blue button-down seemed all wrong. It's sleeves were too long, it's collar was too stiff, he looked down and furrowed his brows at the tucked-in hem before reaching down and pulling his shirt out of his jeans. His nice jeans.

"Wont you relax?" Angel rolled his eyes, exasperated at the fidgety man next to him. Spike glared.

"My belt is too tight," he grumbled, his fingers moving to unbuckle it. Angel slugged him lightly on the arm, stopping him.

"We're in the middle of the sidewalk, Spike," he said when Spike turned to glower at him, "You can't just… adjust yourself in the middle of a sidewalk, okay?"

"Right," Spike nodded, then went back to his task of unbuckling and loosening his belt anyways. "I was never one to care about appearances, Peaches. Didn't you know that?"

When Angel just let out an annoyed sigh, Spike asked, "Where are we going anyways? You never told me."

"You'll see," Angel repeated.

………

Spike stared at the program pasted on the wall and felt his heart drop to the hard, linoleum floor. Something in the back of his head registered the shock and he felt like he couldn't breathe. The second his eyes had met the laminated poster, they had been drawn to two distinct words:

Buffy Summers

Everything else blurred and the only thing he could see was her name. Her name. Her, the reason why he was wherever in the world he was. Her, the face in his dreams, the face he wanted to chase, to protect. Her, the one girl… the one woman he had ever been in love with and would always be in love with.

It was different when he said "I'm going to see Buffy" in his head. It was different whenever he played that moment when they would meet in his head like an Imax movie screen at night while he was picturing her face. It was even different when he said it out loud, when he tasted it on his lips. "I'm going to go see Buffy." He had tried it multiple ways to let his tongue get used to her name: "Bloody hell… Buffy, here I come!" or "I'm off to see the Buffy!" or "I'm going to New York… to see Buffy."

But here it was, displayed right before his eyes in bold, Edwardian script font.

"Fuck, I'm not ready," a voice that sounded like his own erupted from his throat. He didn't even know he had spoken out loud until Angel stepped into his line of sight.

His friend had a sheepish grin on his face and held out both hands in a who-woulda-thought gesture. "Surprise?" his voice sounded somewhere in-between smug and insecure, as if he wasn't sure what Spike's reaction would be.

Spike clenched his jaw. "I'm not… I can't do this…"

He started backing away. The fear that had been contained inside was spilling out of his heart and numbing his entire body. He couldn't face her. He didn't deserve her, he couldn't bear to see her look at him with that… No… I can't…

Angel grabbed his arm.

"This is why you came here and for once, you're going to do things right," he said, firmly. Spike widened his eyes and Angel continued, "You're not going to hang around thinking about talking to Buffy, you're going to see her and you're going to see her tonight. Remember? We agreed to do things my way."

"This is different, you soddin' git," Spike ground out, jerking his arm out of Angel's grasp. "This is - this is Buffy! You can't just… throw me into a fucking Gladiator's pit without warning. I need to plan! Bloody fucking hell, Peaches! I need to - I need to think… I can't just go and… "

"Has the peroxide finally gotten to you?" Angel said sarcastically, "Since when did you ever plan, Spike?"

When Spike didn't answer, Angel reached into his pockets and pulled out two long tickets, "I already spent money. We're going in, Spike. All you have to do is see her… I wont make you talk to her tonight. We're going to be two people in two hundred or more. She probably wont even notice you."

Spike gulped.

………

They were seated in the maroon velvet seats of the concert hall, feeling out of place in a crowd of people who were clearly classical musicians and serious music majors. Older couples were in evening dresses and suits, college students were in black, and middle-aged piano teachers were in glittery sweaters and tweed. Angel and Spike wore jeans spruced up with unbuttoned, button-up shirts. Dressed up in the casual sense.

Spike was still trying to breathe. His entire body was sporadically shivering and his palms were more sweaty than they have ever been in their entire life. Every single muscle was tensed up in anticipation and every single sense was focused right up on that stage where she would walk out…

Angel cast side-long glances at his friend. The rigid way he was sitting and the way he gripped both armrests made the way he looked as they descended in the airplane seem relaxed.

She probably wont even notice you… She probably wont even notice you, Spike repeated to himself, silently praying that this was true.

The lights above the audience dimmed and the stage lights brightened. The crowd was silent and Spike heard the distinct clicking of heels… the squeak of the door at the side of the stage being opened…

She probably wont even notice you…

Applause thundered and stormed his ears, drowning out everything as she walked out into the stage. Spike froze.

………
………

She was greeted by a sea of smiling faces and clapping hands. This is it, she thought, measuring her breaths as she walked to the center of the stage where the Steinway waited, big, black, and imposing.

Millions of thoughts flooded her head… how she hated her father when he kicked her out of the house, how she wished Giles was here to see her, he would have been proud, how she shouldn't have eaten that hamburger for dinner, how the piano felt under her hand as she grabbed onto it and bent her head down into a bow.

The clapping went on and she tried counting to ten as she sat down on the piano bench and adjusted it. She had never been more nervous.

She had tried to look for a familiar face in the audience. Faith, Kendra, Gabriel, Professor Walsh, anybody… but she couldn't find them. Every single face looked the same to her. Every face seemed strange, every face seemed familiar. She saw Giles smiling, her mother's affectionate eyes, Willow's sympathetic smile, Hank's disapproving frown,… Spike's reassuring face, mouthing "I love you" from the middle of the crowd. Every face that she had ever seen in her life was in the audience.

In a way, it calmed her. She wiped her hands on the skirt of her dress and positioned them over the keys.

She could do this.

It's the music… it's all in the music…

And she started to play. Her nervousness faded away as all her previous thoughts were replaced by the music. Everything would be okay.

………
………

When she stepped out on stage, all Spike could do was stare. How had he lived without this for nearly three years? How had he reprieved himself from looking at her for all this time? How had he willingly given this up?

She's so… so…, his muddled mind couldn't even grasp the word he was searching for.

When she turned to the crowd - to him - and smiled, he realized what she was. She was life. She represented everything he needed: his oxygen, his support, his heart, his love, his senses, his excitement, his entire self… and he couldn't take his eyes off her.

He had almost forgotten how beautiful she was. Hell, even when they were together, he never fully realized how beautiful she was. Beautiful didn't even describe her! He had never known anybody to glow like she did, but right there on the stage, she resembled some type of unearthly being. A golden-toned Goddess, an angel in diamonds, a saint in a sinful black gown.

She was Buffy. His Buffy. He loved her.

And he knew what he had to do. He knew that no matter what it took, he would have her back. He had to. He needed to relive what she felt like in his arms. He needed to feel her lips on his again, her hands in his again, her body against his again. Every doubt he ever had in his mind flew out of the window.

He was ready to overcome all obstacles to win her back. Even if the obstacle was her.

………
………

At the same time, Gabriel also looked at the woman onstage from the other end of the concert hall and felt his heartstrings being pulled. The necklace that the saleslady in Tiffany's had sold him felt heavy in his pocket and he couldn't help but imagine what it would look like on her. It would have gone perfectly with the dress she was wearing… it would have gone perfectly with her wearing absolutely nothing…

He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have somebody like Buffy. For his entire life, he had been the funny friend, the cool guy to hang out with, the one people turned to when they wanted to just chill. Girls flirted with him all the time and some even dared to go on casual dates with him, but the second somebody mentioned "serious relationship," all bets were off and it was guaranteed that there would be awkward glances followed by the famous "I love you as a friend" talk. And then there was Buffy.

The attraction had been instant, there was no question about that. And every minute spent with her only served to fuel the attraction that was slowly building. Though he would never admit it, when he had asked her out on their first date, he had been nervous as hell. Yeah, he put up a great show at being nonchalant and laid-back about it, but inside his head was the repeated mantra "Don’t say no. Please, don't say no. Pretty please with cherries on top, don't say no."

He had never had a serious girlfriend before and his relationship with Buffy, as light as it was at the moment, felt like it was on the verge of becoming the real deal. At least, he hoped so. Though it had only been a little less than two months since their first date, his gift to her was symbolic as his tribute to relationshiphood. He had done what serious boyfriends did… spend lots of money to buy beautiful jewelry for their beautiful girlfriends.

Gabriel was nervous about the gift resting contentedly in his pocket. I really hope she likes it…

………
………

Intermission
………
………

"Wow," Angel spoke first, standing up to stretch his sore limbs from the past hour of sitting. He glanced down at Spike, who was still staring at the stage, "That was pretty amazing. Buffy's gotten a lot better, didn't she?"

"Yeah. Amazing. Right," Spike answered, his brain still seeing her face before she had walked off the stage. He had heard her playing and had vaguely comprehended that it was incredible, but he was still hung up about just seeing her again.

"I guess that makes sense," Angel continued, "I mean, she's gotta be good if she's in Juilliard, right?"

"Uh-huh."

Angel frowned. "Earth to Spike?"

"Yeah," Spike nodded, not listening to what his friend was saying. Angel punched him lightly on the shoulder. He glared and looked up, "What?!"

"C'mon," Angel rolled his eyes, "Intermission."




.....
Author's Note: And so introduces the competition between Gabriel and Spike.

I'll be working on updating this for the most part ... so there might be delays in updates for the rest of my stories. But, I promise... I DO intend to finish everything, eventually.

AND another thing... I just want to thank everybody who took the time to review. I haven't been good at answering them, mainly because I'm pretty much always going on to the next chapter, but one of these days, I'll set some time apart to respond. Thanks, guys!





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