'Dammit.'
'Ok, so the sleep word isolation thing is not working,' she thought. 'maybe, that relaxation technique will do the trick.'
She tensed her whole body, from her toes to the top of her head. Well, if she'd had muscles on the top of her head, they'd be tense. Anyway, she didn't think there were any muscles up there, so maybe she was tensing from her toes to her…face? She frowned, thinking. Because your face obviously had muscles and… 'hello!' She mentally smacked herself again, 'rambling here, back to the task at hand.'
So, all obediently tensed up, she began to slowly and deliberately relax each muscle starting with her toes. She'd gotten to her calf when she realized she now had a knot in it and had to vigorously rub it to drive it away. 'Ok, soooo not conducive to sleep,' she thought as she rubbed, 'and ow, when did relaxing get so painful?' Inevitably, her mind went to what happened usually when her muscles knotted up. For a moment, she could almost feel his talented hands smoothing out the bunched muscles beneath them, leaving relaxed, jello-like Buffy bits in their wake. The thought of what those hands might be doing at this very moment made her bolt upright in bed.
'Dammit.'
She leapt out of bed and headed to the bathroom, rummaging through the medicine cabinet hastily, keeping her disobedient brain from continuing that disturbing train of thought. 'Aha!' She thought, triumphantly. 'Mom's sleeping pills.' She studied them intently. 'Only a little expired. Should still work. Not like they'd be dangerous if they were too old, right? Just wouldn't work.' She downed one with a handful of water from the faucet and returned to her room.
She lay on her bed again, this time face up, sprawled over the covers. 'Should be kicking in any minute now.' She fidgeted. 'Any minute now.' She rolled to her side. 'Stupid ancient pills!'
Images came unbidden to her closed eyes. His hands, holding a half naked Drusilla clasped against his towel-clad body. Coils of dark hair draped over his arms. His eyes, blue and panicked, meeting her own. Those hands, releasing Dru as he dashed across his living room. Too slowly, because Buffy was gone.
Buffy was gone. Asleep. But she tossed and turned, plagued all night by scenes from the past.
Spike smiled at Melanie, the girl from the bar. They'd been sitting in the diner, the only place open for food at this hour, for a couple of hours now, just talking. 'Lovely girl,' he thought idly, during a lull in conversation. He'd always thought grey eyes were somewhat chilly, but hers managed to be warm and welcoming, shining with the charming personality he'd been discovering over the course of the evening.
When she left him to go to the restroom, he reflected on the night's events. He'd gone to the bar in a rebellious mood, knowing Buffy would be there, but as it was his favorite hangout too, not caring what she thought. Yeah, right, not caring what she thought. Going to make them both miserable, was more like it. He wasn't going to hide from her, he'd thought as he walked to the bar. She'd broken up with him and he was in the right, so she could do the hiding if hiding was required.
So he'd planted himself at the bar and ordered his regular and pretty much tuned everything else out. He was aware of where she was in the room, but he forced himself to ignore her and focus on the liquid haven in front of him. He'd seen his Niblet briefly, but she'd soon gone off to be with that boy she was so taken with lately and left him to his sulk.
He'd had several drinks by time Melanie had apologized for spilling her drink and bought him another, and he'd not thought much of it at first, hadn’t even looked at her properly. 'What's wrong with you anyway, ponce? Pretty girl comes up to you in a bar and you don't even look.' He shook his head in disgust. 'Bloody whipped and you aren't even with the chit anymore.'
He'd thought that would be the end of it, but Melanie laid her hand on his arm and said in that kind voice of hers he'd gotten to like over the past few hours at the diner, "I can see you're having a bad night, but maybe you'd like to forget things for a little while and dance with me?" She continued, "No strings attached, no expectations, just a little dance?" She accompanied it with a smile that was hard to refuse.
If she’d come on to him overtly, he would’ve declined as he’d done many times before. But she was so sweet and hopeful that he'd looked down a moment to think and then thought, 'why not, mate, not like you're doing anything else. Why not have a dance?' Maybe it'd kick Buffy out of his head for a few minutes. Not like anything else did. 'It's not like you're with Buffy, anyway, she said to move on. Said it clearly, didn't she? Right, so, moving on.'
He slid off the stool.
While they were dancing, Melanie spoke next to his ear, "See, better than suicide by bottle at least, no? I haven't stepped all over your feet yet, either. I'm terribly proud, usually I'm a bit of a klutz."
He grinned and laughed at her being dubbed a 'klutz'. She was anything but. She moved smoothly and stepped surely, confident and graceful. She felt good in his arms. Running his hand down along her braided hair, he suddenly wanted to free it and pulled it loose from its braid, mussing it gently. "Should always wear it this way, luv. 'S pretty."
She giggled at him. "Pretty tangled is what it usually is when it's not braided. Such a pain to take care of."
"But still pretty." He replied softly, playing with it. He wondered briefly if he'd been imagining the feeling of being watched. He wondered if a certain set of green eyes were resting on him now. He inhaled the fragrance of the dark head resting on his shoulder and didn't care. Yeah, he didn't care. She smelled wonderful and…different. No vanilla, no fruit, she didn't smell like Buffy, nor anything like the incense and spicy scent of Dru, just a soft floral fragrance that brought back no memories whatsoever. He rested his cheek on her hair and allowed himself to bask in the peaceful unfamiliarity for awhile.
He'd walked to the bar, because he'd planned on getting drunk and not having to drive and she'd come with friends, so they'd ended up walking to the all night diner down the street after leaving the bar, where, surprisingly Spike realized he was hungry. He hadn't been truly hungry in weeks - lost a few pounds too. Pounds he could ill afford. His elderly neighbor had teased him that his cheekbones could currently cut glass they were so prominent. He was hungry now and he made quick work of the burger and fries when it came, stealing a few of hers when his were gone.
She was back.
She sat down and for the first time, looked uncomfortable for a moment. Then she met his eyes. "I live right in town. Would you like to walk me home?"
"'Course," he said immediately. "Wouldn't have you walking home by yourself. 'S not safe, is it?"
"Not terribly, around here. Gets a little better where I live." She brightened. "We affectionately call the neighborhood 'OSAS' for 'One step above slum'."
"Sounds lovely." He laughed. "Can't wait to see the sights."
She smiled at him.
Her apartment was in a slightly better neighborhood. Inside was nice, if a little cluttered. He'd walked her home and she'd invited him in and he was here, standing awkwardly in her living room. She tossed her keys on a nearby table and turned to him. "My roommate must still be out," she said, motioning him towards the couch. He sat.
"Can I get you something? Coffee or…" she trailed off, unsure.
"'M fine," he said. "Thanks."
Settling next to him, she abruptly faced him. "Look, I know you're getting over someone. I know what that looks like. I am too. If you want-"
"Don't know what I want." He rested his elbows on his knees and grabbed his hair with both hands. "'S the problem, innit?"
"Well, all I'm saying is, you don't need to know what you want." She tugged on one of his hands until he looked up at her. Then she kissed him. "No strings, remember? I want to forget too…"
He hesitated a moment, then closed his eyes and kissed her back, running his hands through that soft, gorgeous hair again.