Hanging back in the shadows, Spike watched Buffy dance seductively; shining like a beacon in the midst of pulsating lights and the gyrating bodies that surrounded her. Too nervous to approach her, he hung back and sipped liquid courage in the form of whiskey and waited for the prefect moment to descend.
Dressed in black from head to toe, he felt more like his old self tonight than the respectable adult that he had morphed into over the years. When he had stumbled upon the well-worn black leather duster late into the evening the night before, nostalgia had swirled through him like a lover’s embrace; warm and comforting with just a trace of seduction.
The past three years had been a whirlwind of change for Spike. Just over half a year had been spent in Los Angeles, shacking up in a friend’s spare bedroom while he threw himself into finishing his Master’s degree before he realized that his life wasn’t going to end up on the path he had chosen; knew that he would forever spend his nights alone with only the memory of Buffy to hold on to. One night, in a drunken haze as he stumbled out of the pub, he had decided it was time to move on; get on with his life and truly see what the world had to offer.
For nearly a year, not a day passed when the only thing that could erase her lovely face from his mind was alcohol, and lots of it, combined with anything else he could get his hands on to numb the pain that tended to sear his heart. Pub after pub, country after country, Spike had stumbled his way through life; never allowing himself to feel anything that might remind him of the love he had willingly left behind. Eventually, no amount of alcohol could cause the pain to subside and that had led him down a road of nameless women that woke up alone in the morning. As degrading as his life had become, it had been what had saved him in the end. Spike’s savior had come in the form of a woman, pale as the moonlight with fountains of gleaming black hair that spilled down her back and hauntingly dark eyes full of understanding and compassion. After spending barely a month with Drusilla, his life had been given new meaning and hope. She urged him to follow his passions, to pour his desires into his writing and let that be his guide back to the life that he craved. After one last embrace at the airport, she had cryptically promised that the sunshine would flood his life once again, that it had never really left him; her words still confused him to this day.
It was shortly after leaving her that he had buried himself in his work. Only venturing out of his darkened flat in London for food and cigarettes during the eight months of torment it had taken to finish his book. Looking back now, he often laughed at what his editor had thought when he had first met with him. Hair in disarray, long and in bad need of a trim, dark roots giving way to faded blonde locks, eyes ringed with shadows and his once sculpted frame gaunt from the wasteful life he had subjected himself to.
Now, his life was perfect…almost. The one thing that it lacked was currently in his sights and his courage was finally up to the point he needed to make a move. Oblivious to anything or anyone around him, Spike jumped when someone lightly grabbed his arm.
“Bloody Hell, Red!” He muttered, reaching inside his coat pocket for a cigarette to calm his nerves. “Give a bloke a sodding heart attack why don’t you.”
“You’ve been up here for like ever, plan on making your move anytime soon? Or were you just planning on wooing Buffy telepathically?” Willow asked, folding her arms across her chest and giving Spike a stern look. When he opened his mouth in attempts to argue with her, she said, “Just go, will ya?! See this…it’s my Resolve face and it’s fried bigger fish than you, Bucko. I’ll drag you down there myself if I have to.”
Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he grumbled, “Don’t get your bleeding knickers in a not, Red. I’m going, yeah?” Spike made his way down the stairs towards the booth where the DJ was concealed; where he made a request, leaned against the railing and hoped his plan would work.
Sure enough, when the music slowed and couples paired off, Buffy stood awkwardly near the edge of the dance floor unsure of what to do next. Before any other guy could swoop in and claim his prize, Spike sauntered up behind an unsuspecting Buffy and pulled her back against him. “Fancy a dance, luv?”
Surprised, Buffy jumped and pulled away from his hold. “I…uh…I…” She stammered, mentally kicking herself for acting like such a brainless twit in the presence of Spike as she stood motionless like a deer caught in headlights. When he stepped forward and took her in his arms once again, she didn't resist; allowing his arms to wrap around her, one hand pressed securely against the small of her back. Staring up into his eyes, she felt her knees weaken in a way that was oddly familiar, but hadn't been done since he had left her years ago. Her mind briefly flashed back to the last time they saw one another, the feeling of despair that had ballooned in her chest and panic began to bubble within causing her body to instantly tense up.
“Easy…’s just a dance, kitten.” Spike murmured. Their gazes were still locked and the tension he felt eased when the hard glint left from her eyes. Smiling lightly, he reached out and tucked a stray tendril behind her ear before pulling her closer against his body. “God you’re even more beautiful than I remembered.”
Not sure of what to say at the moment, Buffy blurted out, “Costume! I…mean…you aren't wearing one.” Blushing profusely at her immense stupidity, Buffy ducked her head and avoided the smirk on Spike’s face.
“Course I am, luv.” He chuckled at the obvious embarrassment rolling off Buffy in waves. Reaching into the pocket that held his cigarettes, he grabbed hold of the object he desired and pulled it out; showing it to her with a triumphant smile. “See?!”
“A vampire? How original, course at first I thought you were trying to be that guy in the Matrix. What’s his name? Keanu Reeves played it.” Buffy felt her heart rate speed up when Spike growled at her in annoyance and realized that he still had the same effect on her whether she wanted him to or not.
“‘m not some poncy computer geek called Neo, kitten. ‘m the Big Bad which if I remember my storybook fables correctly means I get to eat you right up.” Curling his tongue behind his upper lip, Spike leered down at Buffy and felt himself harden with desire at the lust that filled her luminous emerald eyes.
“Hmph, you’re wrong. It’s the wolf that stalks Little Red Riding Hood, not a vampire.” Buffy corrected him with a playful smirk. Cocking her head slightly to the left, she motioned to a guy near the bar that was covered in fur. “Guess that’s the lucky guy that gets me all to himself tonight.”
“Not bloody likely.” Spike growled possessively as he shoved the plastic fangs back into his pocket and wrapped both arms around her tiny waist. “You’re with me, luv.”
Overwhelmed with being in his arms again, combined with the intoxicatingly sexy scent that was causing her mind to cloud with desire was basically caused all of Buffy’s sensibilities to fly right out the window. Melting against Spike, she perched her head on his shoulder and allowed the music to take control; their bodies swaying in perfect tune to one another, oblivious to the surroundings. She had no idea how long they stayed out there, but was jerked back into reality when a meaty hand clamped down around her bicep and twisted her out of Spike’s hold.
“Riley!” She cried out in shock. Sensing that Spike was about to do something that she would most definitely regret later, Buffy held her hand out to stop his descent and said, “It’s ok, Spike. I’ve…um, gotta go for a little bit.” Not bothering for a response, Buffy stalked off the dance floor with Riley in tow. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going out with the guys tonight? Big pledge thing or something.”
“I come by here to surprise my fiancé and find her practically giving some guy a lap dance, and I’m the one that gets the third degree? Who the hell was that, Buffy?” Riley ranted with barely controlled rage.
“I wasn’t doing anything wrong, just dancing. What’s the big deal?” Irritated not only with herself for allowing things to progress with Spike, but for being surprised by Riley on what was supposed to be a night out with their respective friends. Suppressing her annoyance, knowing that he just wanted to be nice, Buffy looked up at Riley and said, “He’s an old…friend, Ri. It’s nothing. Thank you for coming by, it’s sweet…really, but tonight’s supposed to be friend night. We need to spend time apart, out with other people every once in a while or I’m afraid we’ll just smother one another.”
“I just missed you, babe. Sorry for bothering you.” Riley pouted, instantly turning up the guilt dial to make Buffy feel even worse. “How about you do something with your friends another night and come home with me?” He suggested, trying to pull her into his massive arms.
“That’s not a good idea. Just go home, Riley.” Buffy struggled to get her small frame away from the hulking mass that was her fiancé; finally managing to get her point across and be released. “I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?”
“Yeah, whatever…maybe we can do something then. I love you.” Conceding, Riley dropped his arms and leaned in for a kiss; disappointed when Buffy turned her head and the sentiment fell upon her cheek instead.
“Um, yeah…me, too. Have fun tonight, ok?” Feeling lower than low, Buffy hurried off in the direction of the women’s bathroom, a place that her stodgy fiancé wouldn’t follow her into. Just as she was about to disappear inside, Spike stepped in front of her. Not wanting to deal with him at the moment, she pushed him aside and said, “Not right now, Spike. I just…can’t deal with you at the moment.”
Dejected, Spike dropped his shoulders in defeat and headed back to the front of the club to take care of his tab before calling it a night. His plans were halted when Willow appeared in front of him with another woman with honey colored locks and a shy smile dressed in layers of frilly material.
“Where do you think you are going?” Willow demanded as she hauled Spike away from the entrance.
“Believe I just got shot down, Red. No sense staying for a second rejection.”
“Did she actually tell you to leave?” Willow’s demeanor softened at Spike’s answer and a smile spread across her face. “See? She wants you here, because she told Riley to take a hike for the night. So you should stay, be cool and hang back for a bit, then make another move.”
“Willow, sweetie, if he w-w-wants to leave…” The other girl stammered softly, reaching out to lightly stroke Willow’s arm. “Maybe you should let him.”
“But, Tara, he doesn’t really want to leave. Do you, Spike?” Willow challenged, whipping her head back around to Spike.
“I’ll stay, but only for a bit longer, Red. Thanks for the help, Glinda.” Spike said, deciding to use Tara’s choice in costume as the Glinda the Good Witch as a nickname. Stalking back to the bar, he slumped down on a stool and ordered another drink; intent on sulking for the remainder of the evening.
It was nearly an hour later before he saw Buffy again, this time she was stumbling in his direction attached at the hip to another guy. Livid, Spike stood up so quickly that his stool clattered to the ground. “Buffy!”
“Oh, hey Spikey!” Buffy slurred as she wobbled side to side drunkenly. “I thought you had left me again and I was very sad!” Stepping towards him, she tripped over her own feet and fell into his arms; her drink sloshing over the rim of the cup and spilling down the front of her checkered dress, leaving a dark stain.
“Ok, tha’s about enough for you tonight, kitten.” Spike informed Buffy, who upon further inspection was now passed out in his arms. Sighing, he swung her legs upwards and grasped hold of her tightly; weaving through the crowd as he made his way to the front door.
Snuggled beneath a heavy comforter, Buffy groaned as the harsh morning light burst through the windows and landed directly where she was trying to sleep. As she was rudely pulled from a deep sleep, her head began to pound incessantly and every bone in her body ached mercilessly. Fighting back the urge to throw up, she forced her eyes open and glanced at her surroundings in horror. She groaned, tears pooling in her eyes and fright muddling her brain. Where was she? The room wasn’t familiar and even though she tried, Buffy was unable to remember much about the night before; much less when and who she had left the Bronze with.
“Oh God, what have I done?”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks so much for all of the reviews, guys. Keep 'em coming, they make muse happy. Oh, and just to clear up some questions...Willow and Buffy do still live together. In a previous chapter I had meant that they no longer lived in the same dorm room as they did in Freshman year. Sorry about the confusion! This wasn't beta-d , so bear with me. Thanks again, guys!