Chapter Seven
The song ended too quickly, and with it, ended the comfortable familiarity between their bodies. As the band picked up a catchy, fast-paced rhythm, Buffy began to feel just a little awkward situated in Spike’s arms, somewhat like an out of place appendage – burdensome, unwanted, and weird.
She took a step back and Spike dropped his arms to his side. He was giving her such a strange look and quite frankly, it was unsettling. Her instincts kicked in instantly, telling her Get out of here, Buffy… before you make a fool out of yourself.
“I, um, need to use the – you know,” and without finishing her thought, she whirled on her heel and headed towards where she thought the restrooms should be, leaving Spike staring after her from the middle of the dance floor.
As she shoved her way between bouncing bodies, she received a few dirty looks from the girls and a few appraising looks from the guys. The sweat and heat emulating from their bodies was overwhelming her and her head felt lighter by the moment.
You’d think I just ran a marathon, she thought to herself, feeling her heart pounding it’s way through her chest. But despite the loud music and the gritty reality of the club, she felt like she was floating. It all seemed so surreal, especially the way Spike danced with her. It was almost as if he … really liked her.
She reached the door with the “Women’s Room” sign flashing above it and stumbled in, tripping over her new shoes. High heels were definitely not working for her.
…………
Spike scratched his head, messing his hair up a little bit – something he knew girls loved, as he tried to figure out the complex girl who had just made a run for it. She had distanced herself from him as if he were a disease she was afraid to catch. Complex might not be the word, he sighed to himself. More like… weird. Or insecure. Or really, really hot.
The second her body disappeared in the crowd, he let out a slow breath and looked away, surveying the crowd for familiar faces and, he wasn’t going to lie, good-looking faces that came with good-looking bodies. He spotted Cordelia dancing with a few girls he recognized from school and, judging by the sly smile on Devon’s face, he was on the hunt, Xander and Anya were back at the booth, lip-locked and obviously happy to have the table to themselves.
Suddenly, he felt a tap on his arm and before he knew it, he was face to face with a grinning Harmony.
“Hey, Spikey,” she cooed, showing him her pearly whites. “Dance with me?”
Before he could answer her, she was pressed up against him, grinding herself into him and slithering up and down his body. Which was nice.
For a moment, something in him twang and he remembered the green eyes that made him almost lose himself, but he quickly shook the feeling away and placed his hands on Harmony’s hips. Buffy was cute. Beautiful, even. But she was a bet and nothing else. As he danced with Harmony, he calculated the days until he and Buffy would be in bed, doing the wild thing.
While he breathed in the strong scent of perfume in Harmony’s hair, he thought about the intimacy between him and Buffy when they were slow-dancing to Oz’s song. As soon as the thought entered his mind, he discarded it.
…………
As soon as Buffy emerged from the stall, she noticed Drusilla, standing at the far end of the sinks, staring at herself in the mirror with a blank expression on her face. For a moment, she just stood there and took in the tired, sad slouch of her friend’s back and the pain that was visible on her shoulders. Then, she timidly walked towards the pale, dark-haired girl.
She came up next to Drusilla and their eyes met in the mirror. Buffy offered a small smile and Drusilla looked away.
“Are you okay?” Buffy wasn’t exactly sure what to say in a situation like this. The girl was clearly not okay. Drusilla gave her a wry laugh and shook her head.
“Do you think I should go blonde?” She asked out of the blue. Buffy widened her eyes in surprise.
“What??”
Drusilla turned to face her. “Go blonde. That’s what all the guys seem to like, isn’t it? Blonde girls?”
“It is?” Buffy glanced at her reflection in the mirror and fingered her own brown hair. It always seemed a little bland to her, but still. It was her hair… her Buffy-hair. And Drusilla’s hair was… more than just Drusilla-hair. It was almost black and completely gorgeous. “I don’t think you should dye your hair.”
“Why not? It’d be fun,” Drusilla smiled. Buffy looked back at her and noticed that her expression had changed to a pleasant one. Wow. She hid her pain well.
“I think it’d be less fun when you’re through and realized you ruined your best feature,” Buffy decided to be blunt. Drusilla immediately darkened and sighed.
“Yeah,” she grumbled, “I know you’re right. It’s just… Darla’s hair is blonde.”
“Darla…”
“You don’t know her.”
“Oh.” There was a little silence, which Buffy broke by asking, “So… who is she?”
“Just a slut and a crack-whore who should stuff a shovel up her ass and die.”
“Oh. Uh, okay.”
Drusilla stared at Buffy for a moment, then broke out laughing, infectiously making Buffy laugh as well. A few other girls turned their heads for a few seconds, then ignored them. It was one of those laughs when nothing was funny, but everything was funny.
“You’re not that bad, girl,” Drusilla wrapped an arm around Buffy’s shoulder. “Let’s go. We’re two gorgeous bitches and we can get anyone we want. Starting with the dance floor.”
They strode out of the bathroom confidently, laughing and joking with each other.
The second they were out, Buffy noticed Spike. Spike doing some seriously provocative dancing with a well-stacked blonde girl.
“Uh, Dru…?” She said slowly, keeping her eyes on the two of them. Drusilla twisted her neck around to see what she was looking at. “You know what you said about blonde hair and how guys like it?”
“We’ll go to Walmart tomorrow and bye nine dollar hair dye. Your bathroom or mine?”
“Yours.”
/////////////// Sidenote \\\\
Please don't hate me. I didn't really want to idolize Spike and make him into the perfect gentleman,... at least not YET.
Remember in this story, he's a jerk... and most importantly, he's a teenage GUY. He doesn't have any real feelings for Buffy YET, besides the fact that he's attracted to her and wants to score with her. So, of course, he feels no obligation to "stay faithful" to her. And most single guys in situations like him would dance with whoever offered themselves up.
The Harmony-drama really isn't drama at all. Just a little road-bump.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry for the delay in this chapter. I just came back from a vacation and was having some serious writer's block. I think it's cleared up now, but for the next few months, i'll be writing college essays for applications rather than working on any fictions... so my updates might be sporadic and sparse.