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After a few more dances, her skin was slicked with a thin sheen of sweat and the night was slowly reaching it’s peak. Which meant it was time to get her ass to work, she thought making her way out of the crowd and over to the staircase. She had installed large fans to the high arched ceiling on the upper floor so that the air was always being stirred. She felt it wash over her erasing some of the heat from her skin and began to scan the crowd for a familiar head of scarlet hair.

Easily picking her out of the crowd she walked over to where her business partner sat quietly talking to a thin man with deep black hair. He was dressed casually a pair of baggy blue jeans and a black printed tee that had a stick man playing a guitar above the word ‘rock star‘ in red. He may look like a college kid but the small print on his shirt happened to be the truth. Daniel Osborne, or just Oz to his friends, was a bonafide rock star. He played guitar for packed venues full of screaming fans, with his band Dingoes ate my baby.

She had been the one to offer them a job playing here four nights a week. Before long word had gotten around, that the next big thing was appearing at the River Styx, nightly. It seemed like they shot to fame overnight, which meant it hadn’t taken long for the media to learn he was a werewolf. There had been other demon musicians and more than a few actors but coupled with his bands moniker there had been a flurry of outraged parents. Desperate to salvage their reputation, his label had called a press conference for a question and answer session. When the first reporter had asked why they had chosen that particular name, Oz looked directly into the camera and said, “I don‘t know? I voted for calling ourselves ‘The baby ate my dingo’ but Devon said that didn’t make any sense.”

Laughing at the memory, she couldn’t help being glad that things had ended up working out, when it was all said and done with. He didn’t drink, smoke or even trash hotel rooms and he had been with the same girl since junior high. In comparison to his contemporaries and band mates he was downright tame so the angry protestors had no other choice but to move onto an easier target.

“What’s so funny?” Willow asked her, giving her a puzzled smile.

“Just thinking about your husband.” Buffy said sitting down across from her.

“We’re partners Buffy, but only in the club alright. If you want a werewolf of your very own, I’m sure there are lots just hanging around here waiting for you to take them home.” Willow teased easily. As the wife of a rock god, jealousy was a big no-no while trust had to be a big fat yes.

“Actually I found a nummy non-human treat of my very own," Buffy told her licking her lips for effect. "Then Angel showed up, chasing him off before I could take a taste or get his name and number." Buffy looped her arm around the back of the chair, casually scanning the crowd for a mane of ultra white hair.

“What did Angel want?” Willow asked leaning forward.

“The same thing he wanted when I dumped his ass.” Buffy said with a roll of her eyes. “It didn’t sound any better the second time around.”

“Be careful with that one Buffy, still waters run deep.” Oz warned her sagely. “He keeps weighing himself down this way and sooner or later he’s going to snap. All he’ll see is monsters which isn’t a good idea since he happens to be a demon with a badge. He could try to shut you down.”

“More than a hundred demon hate groups have tried the same thing. I run a clean club and my books are a pristine as angels butt crack, thanks to your darling wife here. So if Detective Liam Angelus wants to take his shot he’s more than welcome to try. It’s America after all, the home of the trumped up charges and hefty lawsuits against the city for harassment. The ACLU would have a field day and the club would get a little free press.” Buffy said simply. Her club was her life, her center and she was used to fighting for it.

She didn’t think for a moment that Angel would go that far but she trusted Oz’s judgment. He didn’t talk much but he listened and observed. When he did talk it was usually worth listening to. He had some pretty profound thoughts swirling through that head of his and he had a unique way of looking at things. He was a creative free spirit and since Willow was analytical and practical they had always stuck her as the perfect couple. Oz taught her to open herself up and relax and she showed him how to be a little more responsible.

Besides they were such a cute couple it was almost sickening, Buffy thought with a grin as Oz stroked his hand over Willow‘s long hair. They had been married since Willow turned eighteen and they still looked like a pair of high schoolers knee deep in puppy love. She didn't see herself as the white picket fence type or even the modern ultra hip equivalent that these two had, but she was still envious. What it be like to have that kind of connection with another person, she wondered getting to her feet.That thought had come out of nowhere but it was easy to ignore since it wasn't something she wanted to really explore. She gave them the type of smile a child gives their parents when they catch them getting all cuddly. “I almost hate to break this up but we have work waiting for us in the office. Spreadsheets, expense accounts and salaries oh my.”

_____________________________________________


Spike, never being the patient type, fidgeted uncomfortably while he waited for her to come back downstairs. When he had first arrived, he had gone through the club and he knew that he wouldn’t exactly be able to blend in on the second floor. With the pale color scheme he would stick out like black stain in white satin sheets.

He had to give Buffy credit though, she had built one hell of a club. In reality it was like two clubs in one, the pleasant version of hell on earth, here on the ground floor or you could go upstairs to heaven, complete with fruity mocktails.

He was a creature of the dark, by design and nature and he liked it that way. But he couldn’t help wondering which way the red hot Buffy Giles swung. Was she a creature of darkness, like himself or the light of all lights. Disturbed by the way his thoughts were going, he took a few moments to remind himself that had some serious money resting on this case. Tthat was exactly what he should keep his eye on…the money he told himself firmly.

He had nearly convinced his hormones to obey, but then she appeared on the top of the stairs like Aphrodite herself, descending from Mt. Olympus in all of her glory. Her skin was effulgent in the soft wash of light surrounding her like a gossamer cloud. Due to the floor plan the light never quite reached him down in the pit but he felt as if he was seeing his first sunrise in centuries. As the warmth of her beauty spilled over him, i t was even more exquisite then he had ever remembered.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his cell phone. He pressed autodial and waited for his partner to come on the line. “Charles, call Summers and tell him to find someone else.”

“Too dangerous?”

“Yeah, something like that.” He said, watching the lines of her body as she made her way down the stairs. Only a fool would chose something as cold and crisp as money over those softly curving lines of womanhood. “Gotta go mate, something I have to do.”

Without waiting for an answer he clicked off the phone and jammed it into his pocket. In the back of his mind he knew Gunn was going to kill him over this, but the rest of his mind was to focused on getting over to her to care. He could smell her, the sweet scent of her skin on the air as if she was the only person in the building. Like the predator his beast within truly was, he pursued her with a single-mindedness that a pure human’s brain would never be unable to understand.

Standing in front of her only moments later, he meant to ask her if they could talk, but his lips had something else in mind. Before he had consciously even realized what he was doing, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. His tongue trailed over her lips, softer than silk and he got his first taste of her.

Thoreau said, the whole body... imbibes delight through every pore and as his tongue explored her moist sultry mouth, Spike believed him unconditionally. She tasted like sin, sticky honey being licked off of warm skin in a dark room full of desperate moans. Her flavor traveled down his body, coating every cell of his being with her essence until his body would wither if he went without her for to long. Her kisses were narcotic, altering his consciousness with every moment he drank her in.

He pulled away, knowing that it was already to late. She was in his blood and he was addicted. Less than seconds since his lips had left hers, they tingled and his body was shaking from need. Since she was still in his arms, he didn’t see any harm in taking one more taste…just to take the edge of he assured himself.

Realizing his intentions, she brought her hand up to his mouth to stop him. “Why don’t you give me your name first?”

“Spike,” he said when she pulled her hand away. He was slowly recovering his senses when she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in for another searing kiss.

Every inch of her was humming with need. Her blood was burning through her veins and she had been cold for so long she couldn’t risk letting him go so soon. He had disappeared on her once tonight and she was afraid if she lost sight of him now, he would vanish without a trace. Fisting her hands into the soft leather of his jacket, she drank in the fire from his lips willing her body to burn alive until nothing remained but ash. At that moment she couldn’t think of a better way to die, than in his arms.

His hands roamed over her flesh like hungry wolves and when something ripped into her shoulder, she moaned. She was too lost to her desire for her mind to register the searing pain or the unending screams around her. Only when he jerked, did she feel the blood sliding down her body like warm silk. Her hand reached up to feel her throbbing shoulder and when she felt the blood thick and gelatinous against her fingertips, the haze of desire evolved into pure unadulterated rage.

Spinning around, she searched for any sign of the attacker. Her eyes grazed over the innocent bystanders looking for someone who was an island of tranquility in this surging sea of chaos. The scene blurred in lines of dark colors and jostling bodies as her focus narrowed her entire world down to one demon with putrid green scales and red rat like eyes. Nothing else mattered in that moment, not the passion, not the pain, nothing but the battle she was about to begin. Her face, normally so animated and full of life faded away to reveal a grim mask of ruthless determination.

She didn’t run through the crowd, like a fish desperately trying to make it upstream, she flowed through it, like the river itself. In moments she was facing her attacker and she launched out with a stunning right cross hitting him solidly in the face. He stumbled back, his mouth a bloody red ruin of mangled flesh. “Is that all you got slayer?” He asked spitting the blood that had gathered in his mouth out onto the floor.

He had dared to attack her in her club and she was not in the mood for witty banter or sarcastic remarks, she wanted to make him pay. She turned into a spinning back kick. When he ducked under her leg like she had expected, she dropped to one knee turning the back spin into a low leg sweep. She connected with him at the right knee, shoving it out of joint and knocking him to the floor with a high pitched scream of pain. Fluidly rising to her feet, she landed another blow to his ribs smiling sadistically at the dry snap of atleast one of them breaking under her foot.

He reached into his pocket to retrieve his gun, but before he could point it, let alone take aim, another foot pressed into his elbow anchoring him to the floor. “Wouldn’t do that mate.” Spike said applying almost enough force to shatter the bone. “The lady here will just take it as an excuse to kill you and you don’t want that now do you?”

With nothing left to do, he tossed away the gun and glared up at him. “Can’t wait to tell the boys back home that I not only bloodied the daughter of a god but also the infamous William the Bloody as well.”

At his words, Buffy looked over to Spike realizing that the same bullet that had hit her, had traveled through her flesh to lodge itself in his. She could make out the shiny metal of the bullet glaringly bright against the dark red blood streaming around it.

Noticing where her gaze had traveled, he gave her an assuring wink. “Nothing but a thorn luv, don’t concern yourself.”

“From the show you two were putting on, I thought Har’tuh had hired her a prostitute instead of a body guard.” The demon spat out before leered up at her. “Either way it doesn’t look like your daddy is going to get his money‘s worth.”

Hearing enough, Spike kicked him in the face in a blinding blur of speed to fast for the human eye to follow, knocking the demon unconscious. But he knew, even before he met Buffy’s angry jade eyes, the damage had already been done.





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