She was dancing.
Dressed in some glittering, form fitting dress that was cut half way down her thighs. Gaze glued to the lumbering ponce in front of her and her arms high above her head she moved easily to the beat.
At first a sting of jealousy rushed through him and he could feel his eyes flash amber. It didn’t really surprise him at the moment; she looked quite fetching tonight after all, and she had been supposed to meet up with him. The feeling disappeared only a second later when he noticed the slight hesitation in her moves. The flinch as the boy placed his hands on her waist. Her reluctance to let him to pull her close.
Suddenly she lifted her head and her gaze met his through the crowd. He raised an eyebrow and she glanced away. The boy dancing with her frowned, then noticed Spike staring at them. The vampire saw him ask the Slayer something and she shook her head.
A couple of minutes later they moved off the dance floor and went to sit at a table. He walked up to them immediately. It was amusing to watch her date’s brow furrow again.
“Hello love,” he said, “Fancy meeting you here.”
Oh, if looks could kill.
“Go away, Spike,” she said.
Still he thought he heard something like... relief... in her voice. He met her eyes again. Yes, under the mask of annoyance she was clearly glad to see him. Spike smirked. So the date wasn’t entertaining her, huh?
“I’m sorry,” the Slayer said to the boy beside her, “This is Spike, he is a.... eh, friend of mine.”
The guy let his gaze travel over Spike’s form before offering his right hand.
“Owen.”
Spike just raised an eyebrow.
“Spike!” The girl hissed warningly and to her date she said; “I’m sorry, he doesn’t know how to be polite.”
She kept her eyes on the vampire as she said it though, her face saying something totally different than her words. Get me out of here!
“Eh... Giles,” Spike quickly said, his eyes on the girl, who nodded encouraging, “He needs you.”
“The librarian at school?” Owen blinked, looking from Spike to the Slayer.
“No!” the Slayer said. “There is another Giles. Spike’s friend Giles. Right, Spike?”
She scowled at him, the message clear; You couldn’t come up with something better?
“Yeah, exactly. My friend Giles.”
Spike, not even attempting to be discreet, rolled his eyes at the boy. Please! Like he won’t buy it. She should be a little more grateful. He was doing her a favour after all. Saving her from the big bad boring –
“Huh?” Owen frowned for the third time in five minutes. “So your friend’s friend Giles, who is not the librarian at school, needs you. For what?”
Spike opened his mouth to tell the wanker that it wasn’t his bloody buisness. But before he could say anything, he noted the Slayer’s look. She was leaning forward a little, glaring at him as if she’d read his thoughts. Spike rolled his eyes. Right. No insulting of the precious date. This was ridiculous. Grabbing the Slayer’s hand, he pulled her to her feet.
“Erm... heart attack.” Spike said, ”He had a heart attack and we gotta run. See ya around, mate. Not.” The last word was muttered as he began to drag the girl away. He heard her call her good byes, the ‘thank you for a lovely date’ and ‘I’m oh so sorry I have to leave’. He also heard the underlying message, that told him she wouldn’t be going on a date with that pillock again.
She had never before been so grateful for fresh air. Drawing in a deep breath, she leaned her head backwards and looked up at the night sky.
Moving around the other people in the dimness of the Bronze. Having someone so close upon her, male hands trying to grip her waist. She hadn’t even heard the rhythm. She had been too focused on remembering that the people around her were humans, that none of them had a chance against her, that she could push the boy away any time she wanted.
“Happy to see me, pet?”
Buffy startled, then hastily pulled her hand from his.
“Yeah,” she mumbled, “It’s just... too much, you know?”
He did know. She could see it. Even though a small smirk tickled the corners of his lips, he knew what she meant.
“And what kind of an excuse was that supposed to be?” Buffy said, trying to sound irritated even as she had to keep herself from laughing. “Your friend Giles had a heartattack?”
“What? No points for quick thinking? The ponce bought it, didn’t he?”
Buffy rolled her eyes, then giggled. The vampire first gave an answering chuckle, to just a second later scowl; looking at her as if she was a naughty child.
“You were supposed to meet up with me,” he stated.
He is also called ‘Slayer of Slayers’. Giles words came out of nowhere and echoed through Buffy’s mind, making her flinch. She’d forgotten that. She wanted to forget again.
The vampire walking beside her didn’t act like a cold-blooded killer. She didn’t even think she’d seen him in game face.
She had a thousand excuses ready for why she hadn’t met up with Spike. Most of them built on the obious ‘Slayer working with vampire equals wrongness’. Vampires weren’t supposed to kill their own kind. Slayers weren’t supposed to kill demons alongside with them. He was an evil killer of the helpless by nature. The Slayer was born to help the helpless. Everything clear.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
Spike blinked. “Come again?”
“I said I’m sorry,” she repeated, louder this time, “But only a tiny bit. And besides, you don’t have a phone so actually I couldn’t tell you I was going out.”
“Whatever you say, love,” he said, smirking wildly at her, “So, you still up for a patrol?”
“And while I killed the demon,” she said, aiming a blow, “he went on and on about ‘taking responsibility’.”
A low chuckle from behind her, and Buffy dared to cast a glance over her shoulder. Spike was now propped up against a headstone, cigarette in his hand. He raised an eyebrow when he saw her looking at him.
“The Watcher said that?”
“Yup, ‘Buffy you’re the chosen one, it is you responsibility to patrol, save the world, slay all evil’, blah blah.” She turned back to the fledgling again, just in time to avoid a new upset of fang marks in her neck. “As if I don’t already get it.”
Buffy delivered another hit, then a piece of wood through the heart and the newly risen vampire exploded into dust. Twirling the stake between her fingers, she turned back to Spike.
“He keeps tiptoeing around me, as if I don’t know...” she continued, offering a small smile, “The importance of killing evilness kinda comes with the whole Slayer package, but Giles couldn’t just come out and say what he wanted.”
“And what’s that pet?”
“He thinks you’re a danger and I should kill you.”
Looking away, she wrapped her arms around herself. She could feel the vampire’s eyes on her, but he didn’t say anything, just waited. Sighing she walked over to lean against the headstone too. His leather coat brushed against her jeans.
“I’d expected him to be really angry, you know,” she mumbled, “for teaming up with you even though I knew about the vampire thing.”
“Yeah, figured he whould be,” Spike said, taking one last drag of his cigarette and dropping it to the ground.
“He just acted as if it was all obvious.”
For Giles she supposed it was. He didn’t dare to take any chances when most demons equal wrong. Everything was so much simpler if you put vampires in the black area and Slayers in the white. Giles was scared of her getting hurt if she hung out with a vampire, of course he was. Just because Spike had offered to help her take out him didn’t automatically place him on the good side, since his body was possessed by a demon. The easiest way out was to kill him. But Giles still hadn’t come straight out and said it.
“Huh,” the vampire said, “So all the Watcher did was telling you pretty facts about me and giving you a grand speech about responsibility.”
“Yup, totally with the implied ‘you should just kill the evil vampire’ line.”
For a second he was completely still. Then he burst into laughter.
Half bent forward, clutching his stomach, he gasped for air even though she was pretty sure vampires didn’t need to breath. She couldn’t help an answering giggle, despite the absurdity of the situation.
It took him close to a minute to gather himself and in the end she just looked at him, amused.
“Oh come on!” she said, slapping his shoulder, “It wasn’t that funny.”
“Yes it was!” He drew in a deep breath, eyes still dancing. “You just got a lousy sense of humor, Slayer, I can just see it...”
He began to laugh again and this time Buffy rolled her eyes even as she smiled. The vampire looked so... carefree like this. Eyes closed, deep chuckles rumbling through his chest. As if he didn’t have a care in this world, and at the moment she supposed he didn’t.
It didn’t take him as long to compose himself this time, but when he stood up straight again the glitter in his eyes was far from dying out. It really suited him, made him look almost... boyish. Buffy shook her head, grinning too. She’d bet he wouldn’t like being called that. It definitely didn’t suit his bad ass image.
“You’re so weird,” she said, still smiling.
“Yeah?” He grinned back. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“That wasn’t a compliment, doofus!” She smacked his forearm again.
“Oi, pet!” He rubbed his oh so wounded arm. “That hurt!”
Buffy just rolled her eyes again and it made his eyes dance even more. She had yet to understand what was so funny in the first place. It must have been some strange vampire joke. A no-Slayer-can-ever-get-it-because-only-bleached vampires-get-it-joke. Then she almost giggled at her own thought. Maybe Spike wasn’t the only weirdo.
There was a comfortable silence as they resumed their path. She stuck the stake back into her waistband and burrowed her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket. It was pretty chilly tonight. Tilting her head back she drew in a deep breath of the cool air and looked up at the black sky. LA had never been this dark during the nights. Or maybe it was she who had never walked where there were no streetlights.
That time seemed a million years away. Joking around with Laura and eyeing the college boys, hoping they would ask them out. Being popular. Having the others in school almost... looking up at her. Or at least being jealous of her. How... much like Cordelia she had been. Buffy felt a smirk tug on the corner of her mouth. Now that was a scary thought. Just thinking about fashions and makeup and guys and... not worrying about him. Everything had been truly different.
“What’re you thinkin’ about, Slayer?”
Blue eyes and a scarred, raised eyebrow. Different, oh yes.
“Better times,” she said, “Times when I was young and carefree.”
“Still seem pretty young to me,” he said, letting his eyes travel over her form, “but I get what you mean.”
“You do?” she said ironically as she tried to ignore his gaze. Why did he do that? And why didn’t it bother her?
“Time changes all of us,” He suddenly felt far away, his mind somewhere were she couldn’t follow. “Might feel bad right now... the way it seems to almost... crush everything we are, but in the end I think we come out more put together than before.”
“But never the same again.”
He blinked, turning towards her.
“Course not. But then, would you really want to be the same as you were?”
Get out of my head!
What the fuck was happening?
The Slayer was staring at him, eyes shooting daggers as if this was somehow his fault. She opened her mouth for the tenth time – he’d counted carefully – moving it desperately, seemingly trying to force words to come out. Nothing was heard.
Spike tried himself – for the twelfth time in his case – and stared at the girl. It must have been her foal.
Bloody... stop this now!
What?! I didn’t do anything!
Well it sure as hell wasn’t me, you must’ve done something!
How can... Get out of my head!
They panted, gazes locked with each other and suddenly Spike realized that they had begun to circle each other. Halting immediately he forced in a deep breath and started to pace instead. What the hell had happened?
They had been patrolling, chatting away about her mother – she’d had surprise written all over her face when he mentioned his little visit. She’d staked her second vamp of the night and he’d applauded her and wondered over the ease there had between them tonight. Then what...? She’d tried to say something but no words came out of her lips and she’d panicked.
Scratch that.
They had both panicked.
He hadn’t managed a word either. And they had gone over to waving at each other, probably looking like idiots with their hands in the air, when... Suddenly her voice had been in his head. Obviously it had been the same for her, with his voice obviously, because she had begun with the ‘Get out of my head!’. Like he wanted to be in her head.
It’s not like I can bloody help it! He stopped his pacing and threw his head back. Bloody stupid bitch...
Hey! I heard that!
Yeah?! I meant you to!
They went into a new staring match. At least she appeared to be calmer now and her thoughts weren’t coming in a stream to him as they had in the beginning. Slowly she sighed and glanced away.
Sorry.
Did.. did she just apologize... again? Spike nearly frowned. And what for? He was on his way to ask when another of her thoughts rushed into his mind.
I didn’t mean to accuse you for... I know you didn’t do this.
She must have caught his thoughts again. An amused little grin told him as much. And hey! How come she could shield her thoughts from him and he couldn’t, this wasn’t fair!
Just don’t think so loud.
Don’t think so loud?! How the hell does one manage that?!
But just as soon, he became aware of the difference. If he just didn’t concentrate on sending or not sending his thoughts to her, everything was normal. Well not completely normal since he still couldn’t speak, but he could actually feel when he was sending his thoughts to her.
They needed a plan, this must be a spell of some sort. Magic. Spike shuddered.
We have to go to your Watcher.
What?! Her eyes widened and she began shaking her head furiously. No way! I promised him I’d never see you again.
So you want to stay like this forever then? He raised his eyebrows and she sighed. Didn’t think so. Now, come on!
He clamped his hand around hers and dragged her with him.
TBC