It's Not Where You Start Out (1/17)
by Kelly Frieders
raykel2@cox.net

Genre: Drama, B/S
Rating: PG-13, nothing you wouldn't see on the show
Disclaimer: Spike's not mine. Wish he were, but my husband might object. Buffy and all the rest aren't mine, either. I'm just borrowing them from Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy for a while.

Summary: Post "The Gift." Way post "The Gift," actually. Takes place sometime the following year. There's some new interest in the Key and an old enemy is back in town. Spoilers for everything up to and including "The Gift."

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l.

"I don't like him."

Buffy Summers rolled her eyes and turned an annoyed glare toward the lanky platinum blond on her right, who was smoking a cigarette and looking beyond her, distracted.

"Spike, you're scaring me."

He raised an eyebrow and regarded her hopefully. "Really?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes again, turning her attention back towards her other friends. It was Friday night and they were enjoying their monthly get-the-gang-together-for-non-lethal-fun ritual at the Bronze, a loud and smoky nightclub that was Sunnydale's only real hotspot. Willow Rosenburg and Tara Maclay were cuddled together on a bench-like row of chairs across from her, with Xander Harris sitting on Buffy's left, his arm draped casually over the back of Anya Jenkins' chair. Buffy was sprawled comfortably with her feet resting among the half-empty bottles and glasses on the low table in front of her, and Spike was on her right, close to her -- but not Xander-and-Anya close -- his chair facing away from the table and his legs draped languidly on either side, arms resting across the chair back. He was looking over his shoulder beyond her, scowling through his cigarette smoke.

"This is just too funny," Willow said, grinning at Spike. "It's like Bill Cosby."

They all stared at her.

Willow faltered. "You know, if he were white, bleached his hair, wore leather and was, you know, a vampire."

Spike grimaced and glanced at Willow. "Bill Cosby? At least *she* said I was scary," he said, cocking his head toward Buffy.

"Well yeah, but scary in a Bill Cosby sort of way," Buffy shot back, tossing her blond hair over her shoulder. She turned in her seat to follow his gaze, which had returned to the dance floor and the group of teenagers massed there. One of them was her fifteen-year-old sister, Dawn, a slender girl, slightly shorter than Buffy, with long, sleek brown hair and deep blue-green eyes, who was dancing with a tall, lanky boy with short, dark hair. He was cute, in a fifteen-year-old sort of way, and Dawn was obviously enraptured. Truth be told, Buffy felt almost as protective as Spike, and it made her a little nervous to see her sister so interested in a guy, but she was also happy to see Dawn enjoying herself. Buffy turned back to Spike, who was still scowling. Rolling her eyes yet again, she said "Why don't you just go over there and ask him what his intentions are?"

"Right then," Spike replied, starting to rise.

Buffy reached over and placed a restraining hand on his knee. "Kidding, Spike." He sat back down again, looking disappointed it. "You would totally humiliate her," she finished.

"But I mean, look at him! All slick and oily. She's too good for him."

"I think he's cute," Willow said. "It's nice to see Dawn having fun, getting back to normal, you know?"

"Yeah," Xander piped in, "and not all guys are evil, Spike. Mostly just the undead ones."

Spike glowered at Xander. "We live on a Hellmouth, monkey boy. Got better than average odds that he is, in fact, evil." Then he said to Buffy, "I don't like the looks of him. Can't I eat him?"

"*No,* 'cause one: Eeew; Two: You can't hurt humans; and three: Eeew. And you do remember she's *my* little sister and not yours, don't you?"

Of course that last bit wasn't totally fair. In many ways, Spike *was* a big brother to Dawn. More, even. He was her sworn protector. For four months, Buffy had been gone--//Dead,// she forced herself to think the real word and not a euphemism. She had died in a battle to save her sister's life from a hell god and although technically she had been dead once before, this was different. The first time she had drowned, only to be revived moments later by Xander performing CPR. This time she had been dead for four months before the Powers that Be had sent her back. One of the last things Spike had said to her before going off to fight at her side in that last battle was that he would protect Dawn, "till the end of the world." And he had kept that promise with a tenacity Buffy wouldn't have dreamt possible from a vampire. He had made that promise to her because he had been in love with her -- still was, actually. But for those four months, he had thought she was never coming back, and yet he had kept his promise, not out of some hope of winning her over but merely out of a sense of obligation. He and Dawn had forged a bond, much of it over shared grief in losing her, Buffy realized with a bit of guilt, and sometimes she almost envied their relationship. Dawn idolized Spike and she was the one person, besides Buffy, who ever got to see anything other than his carefully constructed "I'm-too-bad-to-care" persona.

"Hey bleach-boy," Xander called out, rising from his seat. "Let's go shoot some pool. You can be a little more subtle scowling at Dawn's boyfriend from the pool tables."

"Fine by me," Spike shrugged, snuffing out his cigarette in an ashtray on the table. Then, impassively, he put his left hand on Buffy's right and gave it a squeeze.

Buffy jumped, completely startled by the intimate gesture. "Excuse me, pet," Spike said casually, and it was only then that Buffy realized that her hand had been resting on his leg; she had never removed it after stopping him from confronting Dawn and her friends. Her cheeks flushed and she hastily snatched her hand away. Spike gave her a look that was part amusement and part triumph, then left with Xander toward the pool tables.

Mortified, Buffy turned towards Willow, Tara, and Anya. In a desperate attempt to redirect her own thoughts, she asked Anya, "So how are the plans for the wedding going?"

Anya's alert brown eyes lit up enthusiastically while Willow's and Tara's widened in horror. "Well," Anya began, leaning forward with excitement, her honey blond hair brushing her shoulders as she clasped her hands happily, "we're looking at cakes now, and let me tell you, it is complicated. I mean, during my years as a vengenace demon I spent a lot of time at weddings--you wouldn't believe how many people are looking for vengeance at weddings. Or maybe you would. But anyway, cake is a complicated issue."

Buffy realized immediately she'd made a huge mistake. Because Anya had lived a thousand years as a vengeance demon before becoming human a few years ago after a spell went bad, she had many odd quirks and didn't quite understand normal societal rules. She talked enthusiastically about topics that embarrassed the others -- particularly hers and  Xander's sex life -- and she was fascinated by rituals. It was no surprise then, that the topic of her wedding to Xander, which effectively combined elements of sex *and* ritual, would spur her to unprecedented levels of enthusiasm.

"Xander just wants something that tastes good, but he doesn't understand what's involved here," she continued. "I mean, cake! We're talking serious fertility rites here."

If Buffy had hoped this would distract her from the hand-on-Spike's-leg thing, she was sorely disappointed. As Anya prattled on about what different kinds of flour symbolized in terms of the groom's virility on the wedding night, Buffy found her attention drawn back to the pool tables, where Xander was racking up the balls. She liked watching Spike and Xander together; they were such an odd match. They were both medium tallish, Xander a hair taller than Spike, but Xander had sort of a gangly California Boy look going for him: dark wavy hair that was a little long in front, wide hazel eyes, square jaw, a blue denim shirt unbuttoned over a gray t-shirt, jeans, and canvas sneakers. Spike was retro punk and very British with bleached blond hair tousled and spiky from too much hair gel, sharp blue-gray eyes, and an angular face with sharp cheekbones. His perpetual wardrobe of black t-shirt, black jeans, black boots, and long black leather duster completed the look.

Their personalities offered an even greater contrast. Xander was a bit on the goofy-but-lovable side, the class clown, quick with the jokes that as often as not were self-deprecating. Spike, on the other hand, was the picture of cool. Even now, after they'd learned to trust him and even view him as a friend, he rarely let them glimpse anything other than the very consciously projected "Big Bad" image: cold, calculating, deadly. They were unlikely friends, Spike and Xander, especially since Xander was not convinced that any vampire could ever be anything other than an evil monster. Yet somehow during Buffy's absence they had made sort of an uneasy truce. They bickered like an old married couple, a lot like Matthau and Lemmon in **The Odd Couple** and those other old buddy movies Buffy's mom used to love, but even though each would rather die than admit it, it was clear they had a sort of grudging regard for each other.

Buffy watched as Spike leaned nonchalantly on his cue stick, waiting for Xander to make his shot. Xander missed, then Spike bent smoothly over the table, eyes intent as he lined up his shot. What was it about him that made her so comfortable one second and so flustered the next?

Mostly, she mused, it was that their relationship was incredibly complicated. They were enemies from the outset; not enemies like Dawn and her school rival, Kirstie: real, true, fight-to-the-death enemies. He was a one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old vampire and she was, well, the Vampire Slayer. The Chosen One, the one girl who would stand alone against the vampires and demons, blah blah blah. And he was a killer. A brutal killer. But a couple of years ago a demon-hunting military group had captured Spike and put a computer chip in his brain which delivered an electrical charge anytime he tried to feed or even hurt a human, causing extreme pain and effectively rendering him harmless to humans. For a while he had hovered on the fringes of her life, fighting demons and vampires on his own just because he liked to kill and they were the only things he *could* kill, and sometimes helping her for money. Then at some point something had changed and he fell in love with her. At first the very idea had horrified her. He was a vampire, a soulless demon, incapable of real love, she'd thought. Of course, she'd been in love with a vampire once before, but Angel was different. Angel had been cursed with a human soul and therefore a conscience. Angel was good. Spike had no soul, no conscience, no ability to be  anything other than evil. Or so she'd thought. However, in the battle to save her sister's life, the battle that ultimately -- albeit temporarily -- cost her her own life, Spike had proven there was something more to him then just an incapacitated demon. Maybe he really *wasn't* evil anymore. He had sacrificed himself for Dawn, twice, actually, and even though he made it clear he did this out of love for Buffy, he also made it clear he didn't ever expect her to return that love. //I know you'll never love me,// he'd told her that night. //I know that I'm a monster, but you treat me like a man.//

While she was gone, *everything* had changed. Spike had not only bonded with Dawn, he had been instrumental in caring for and protecting her in Buffy's absence. Buffy and Dawn's mother had died a few months before Buffy did and their estranged father was too busy "living the cliché" with his secretary to take up his responsibly for his own daughter, so Buffy's friends had arranged for custody of Dawn. Buffy's mentor and Watcher, Giles, had pulled some heavy strings to make it happen, and for four months Xander and Anya had lived at the Summers' house, caring for her with the help of Willow and Tara, who had a dorm room together at UC Sunnydale. It was Spike, however, who had been Dawn's confidant, the person who helped her grieve, and who protected her against any demon who thought the Slayer's death meant open season on her family. The vampire had also managed to win over her friends' regard and become a part of their quirky little demon-fighting "Scooby Gang." He'd taken over Buffy's patrols, spending many nights walking the cemetery and killing any demons or vampires that threatened. Even stranger, at Giles' invitation, Spike had moved from his dank crypt in the cemetery into the basement of the Magic Box, a magic store that Giles owned. They'd cleared out some of the storage space down there and Xander built a small apartment for him, and Spike actually earned his keep by doing odd jobs during the day and being a watchman of sorts at night when he wasn't patrolling.

Around the time of Buffy's return, the Watcher's Council had recalled Giles to England and he'd sold half the share of the Magic Box to Anya, who had been his sole employee before the odd arrangement with Spike, which Anya continued. Xander had gotten another promotion at the construction company he worked for, so he and Anya were doing quite well and were good guardians for Dawn. Of course, upon Buffy's return to the realm of the living, Dawn's custody reverted back to her (again with major help from a string-pulling Giles) and Xander and Anya moved back into their own apartment, which they'd been subletting. The group's relationship with Spike, however, stayed the same. He continued to live in the Magic Box and he continued to patrol, only alongside Buffy now instead of as her replacement.

In the time since her return, Spike's relationship to her had developed into something she would actually consider true friendship. Their frequent patrols together gave her a lot of time to get to know him as more than just a snarky, smart-mouthed former enemy who by a weird twist of fate had fallen in love with her. He had shown a side of himself she never would have believed existed: a sort of sweet, romantic, and chivalrous side that she guessed may have been remnants of his Victorian upbringing from back before he'd been turned into a vampire. More often than not he still annoyed the hell out of her, but even their arguments and petty bickering had become something familiar and even fun to her. So gradually she became comfortable with him and even looked forward to their time together.

But then there was this other thing, like tonight, when there was something else there, under the surface, and it disturbed her. He still was in love with her, of that she had no doubt. Most of the time she didn't think much about it and he didn't mention it much, either, although he did enjoy taunting her when she got too comfortable, like tonight with the hand on his leg. He seemed content with their friendship and as had happened with Xander, who had once had a crush on her, she expected he would get over his feelings for her some day and then that would no longer be cause for weirdness between them. So it wasn't his feelings for her that bothered her, it was the emotions he sometimes stirred in *her.* Okay, admittedly, he was pretty hot. When he smiled -- a real smile, not his "I'm-so-bad" smile -- his whole face lit up and his eyes almost danced. Actually, his eyes were pretty dancey when he was being an ass, too. And of course he had the whole James Dean attitude working for him and could be charming as hell when he wanted to be. He did smoke, which she normally hated, but it was somehow sexy on him. Add an English accent to the package and, well, it was one pretty darned appealing package.

Then there was their whole group dynamic. There were six of them, if you didn't count Dawn, who mostly hung out with her own friends, or Giles, who was in England most of the time now. With Xander and Anya engaged and Willow and Tara's relationship pretty serious, that left Buffy and Spike as sort of a defacto "couple." Mostly this was a good thing. Buffy was not the least bit interested in dating right now. But being single in a group of couples could be very lonely, so it was nice to have another fifth-wheel along, which she supposed technically made him a *sixth* wheel, but then that was more stable than five wheels, right? Although it did make things awkward at times, casting them into a couple role even though they weren't one. The fact that he had a thing for her certainly didn't help matters any in that regard. Plus, even when Dawn was with the group, she, Buffy, and Spike made up a little family unit of sorts. Buffy was Dawn's guardian and Spike her sworn protector, which was almost like they were her parents in some sort of weird twisted way that could only make sense in the Slayer's weird and twisted life. Yet another confusing element to their relationship.

Yes, that was it, Buffy thought, relaxing a little as she watched him shoot pool with Xander. His attractiveness and the overall group dynamic, that was bound to blur the lines a little. It didn't mean anything, not really. Nothing to get concerned over. They were friends, and that was fine. No way was she going anywhere else with it. No way she could.

"But then I figured, go for it, right Buffy? To hell with convention, give in to the dark urges."

Buffy jumped, startled by Anya's sudden intrusion into her reverie. "Huh?"

"I mean I know it's supposed to be white cake for ritual sake, but I'm leaning toward a chocolate truffle."

"Chocolate?" Buffy asked, then got it. Wedding cake, she's talking wedding cake. "Chocolate, definitely chocolate. Buck the system."

"I agree," Anya said, pleased with her decision and completely oblivious to the fact that Buffy hadn't heard most of what she'd said. However, Buffy saw Willow looking at her with an odd expression. Buffy's lack of attention obviously hadn't gone completely unnoticed.

Tara jumped on the sudden lull in Anya's discourse. "I'm gonna get another soda. Anyone want anything?"

"Nothing for me, honey," Willow replied, smiling at her partner.

Buffy also declined, but Anya asked her for a piña colada. After having lived a thousand years, it had been incredibly grating to her to have been made a human who happened to be a minor. Now that they were all twenty-one, Anya reveled in her ability to purchase alcohol again, even if she didn't drink much.

Tara left to go get the drinks and Willow leaned toward Buffy. "You going patrolling later?"

"Yeah," Buffy nodded. "Spike and I were gonna hit the cemetery after we take Dawn home."

"Oh," Willow said, looking a little disappointed. She sat back in her seat again, self-consciously smoothing a piece of her short red hair behind her ear.

"What?"

"Well, it's just that you and Spike patrol a lot together. I thought maybe--" she shrugged a little self-consciously. "I don't know, what with my school and you taking care of Dawn and everything we don't get much best-friend time. And there's a couple spells I've been working on that might help with the slaying."

Buffy leaned forward and reached across the table to pat Willow's knee. "Let's patrol tonight, then, just you and me. Nothing says best-friend bonding like kicking some demon ass."

Willow smiled. "Are you sure? Won't Spike be mad?"

"Oh, he'll live. Well, not really, since he's not technically alive, but it's cool." She withdrew her hand and sat back. //See,// she thought to herself, satisfied, //the hand-on-the-leg is just a friendship thing. Means nothing.//

"Okay, good."

"Hey Buffy!"

Buffy looked up and saw her sister Dawn approach with her friend, Lisa, in tow.

"Hey Dawn! Hi Lisa!"

"Hi Buffy," Lisa said as the girls joined them. Buffy liked Lisa. She was Dawn's best friend and the only one of her peers that Dawn had confided in about all the unusual circumstances of her life. Lisa was a pretty girl, not quite as slender as Dawn, with ebony skin and black hair that she usually wore straight but tonight was pulled back into a tight knot behind her head.

"Buffy, can I stay the night over at Lisa's? A couple of the other girls are going, Sharon and Renee maybe."

Buffy glanced back towards the dance floor where the girls in question were still dancing. Dawn's partner of earlier was with them. Buffy looked back at her sister, eyebrow raised. "You sure it's just the girls staying over?"

Dawn gave her an exaggerated eye roll. "What are you, forty? Yes, it's just the girls."

"It is, Buffy," Lisa added helpfully. "And my mom will be home."

Buffy was a little chagrined at the stab of protectiveness, but she couldn't help herself. It was one thing to give Spike a hard time for automatically not liking any guy Dawn might be interested in. It was another thing to be the one who is supposed to decide what kinds of situations were okay for her sister. Buffy was only twenty-one, less than six years older than her sister, but the responsibility of caring for Dawn made her *feel* forty. Or older, even. Had her mother still been alive and acted all nervous about Dawn doing a simple sleep-over at a friend's, Buffy probably would've rolled her eyes and told her mom she was being overprotective and to get over it. As it was, however, she was very apprehensive whenever Dawn was not in her care or the care of her friends. Lisa was a great kid and her mom was nice enough, but she'd never had to protect Lisa's life against vampires or a hell god. Buffy's guardianship was also a tenuous one. One wrong move and social services likely would ship Dawn off to their father, something no one wanted.

Buffy looked to Willow for help and got a wide-eyed duh-what's-the-problem look in return. "Okay, sure," she sighed to Dawn, resigned.

"Thanks Buffy!" Dawn enthused. "We're gonna go by the house and get some of my stuff and then head back to Lisa's, 'kay? Oh, hey Spike!"

Buffy looked up and saw Spike and Xander approaching from the pool tables.

"What, I don't rate a 'hey?'" Xander asked, only half joking. Buffy knew that Dawn's closeness with Spike was a little hard on him. Before Dawn had gotten to know Spike, she'd had a crush on Xander, and having to take second place to a vampire grated on him.

"Hey Xander," Dawn said dutifully.

"So niblet, who's the bloke?" Spike asked without preamble.

"Bloke?" Dawn asked, feigning ignorance, although Buffy could see from her blush and smile that she knew exactly whom Spike meant. "Oh, you mean Jeff! Pretty cool, huh?"

"I don't like him," Spike said matter-of-factly. "Too slick. Watch out for that one, pidge."

Dawn rolled her eyes, but good-naturedly. "What are you, my father?"

"I think he's cute, Dawnie," Willow put in. "Way cuter than Kevin."

"Oh please, I'm *so* over Kevin," Dawn said coolly.

Buffy winced at the mention of Dawn's first boyfriend. Apparently she'd liked him since the eighth grade, but in the wake of their mother's death and everything else that happened to her the end of last school year, Dawn hadn't had the time nor the desire to socialize at school much. Over the summer following Buffy's death she'd mostly hung out with Buffy's friends since she was living with Xander and Anya and Willow was tutoring her so she could catch up on the school she'd missed in time to start high school with her friends in the fall. When school started, things had finally settled down a bit for her and she and Kevin had gotten reacquainted and started a fledgling freshman romance. Then her life turned upside down again when Buffy returned from the dead and in the turmoil Kevin had drifted away. Of course Buffy had only learned most of this after the fact, but it made her feel guilty that her bizarre life was once again responsible for some angst in Dawn's.

"Well, don't keep us in suspense," Willow said, "tell us more about this Jeff guy!"

"Yeah," Tara added, returning with the drinks. "You guys looked pretty tight dancing earlier."

"Well, you know," Dawn replied, playing it cool, "it's no biggie. He's a sophomore, he's into music and writing. Really deep. Oh, and he sorta wants to go out with me tomorrow night."

Dawn flashed a wide grin of triumph, but Buffy's gut twisted. Dating. Yet another foray into parenting she wasn't ready for. No wonder twenty-one-year-olds didn't usually have teenage children. She was about to protest, but Spike beat her to the punch.

"Well, you're not going out with him, are you?"

"Well *duh,*" Dawn snapped back. "I mean, I can, right?" she said to Buffy.

All eyes were on her, waiting for a response. What could she say? Her gut told her to scream "NO WAY!" and lock Dawn in her room until she was thirty. But she knew that wasn't fair to Dawn. She was fifteen, plenty old enough to be dating. What possible reason could Buffy give for saying no?

"Where's he taking you?" Buffy asked.

Dawn smiled, triumphant. "Here, of course. Like there's anywhere else to go in Sunnydale. That mean I can go?"

"Why not," Buffy relented.

Dawn look thrilled but Spike was sullen. "Well, if he gives you any trouble, you tell him he'll have Spike to answer to."

"I know, I know, Spike. C'mon Lisa, lets go to my house and get my stuff."

Buffy watched as the two girls went back to their friends. They made some hasty plans with the other girls, then Dawn had what looked like a pretty tender goodbye moment with Jeff, and the girls left the club.

"Looks like our little girl is growing up," Xander joked. Buffy glared at him.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm ready for some dancing," Willow said, rising and grabbing Tara's hand.

"You wanna dance?" Xander asked Anya.

"But I just got my drink with the little umbrella," Anya complained, but when Xander offered his hand she took it, smiling, and let him pull her out of her chair. The four of them then headed for the dance floor, leaving Buffy once again alone with Spike.

"I'm gonna have another beer," Spike announced, but Buffy felt like dancing. Why should the couples have all the fun?

"Wanna dance?" she asked.

"Okay," Spike shrugged, affecting indifference as he let her lead him onto the dance floor.

The band was playing a frantic tune and Buffy raised her arms over her head and swung her hips in a mad pace with the music. Spike eyed her skeptically as he started dancing across from her, only more slowly, as if he were in command of the rhythm instead of the music. He had a presence on the dance floor, as if he owned the place, and Buffy found it very appealing.

"So with the little bit gone over to her friend's house, we won't have to stop at your place before hitting the cemetery," he shouted at her over the music.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot," Buffy shouted back. "Willow asked if she could patrol with me instead tonight. You know, a little girl time."

He looked a little deflated. "Yeah, nothing says 'girl power' like staking a few vampires."

Buffy was surprised at how much she disliked disappointing him. "You don't mind, do you? We can go tomorrow."

Spike shrugged, once again affecting unconcern. "Well, hate to give up my spot o' violence before bedtime, but you and Red can have a go of it tonight."

"I promise we'll save any really nasty ones for you," Buffy smiled.

He smiled back. "Send 'em over to the Magic Box, then."

"Right. Anya would love that," Buffy yelled, glad that he wasn't too disappointed.

The band finished their song then switched to something a little slower with a pulsing rhythm and Buffy turned to exit the floor, then caught her breath as Spike put his hands on her hips and pulled her a little closer to him -- not against him, but just so that they were almost touching -- and started swaying slowly. She looked at him, a little alarmed.

He flashed her a wicked grin. "What's a matter, Slayer? Not scared of a little vampire, are you? I don't bite." He leaned into her slightly. "Not anymore."

Buffy clenched her jaw. So he wanted to play games, did he? Well no way he was scaring *her* off. It was just a little dancing, after all. Giving him a tight smile, she rested her hands lightly on his forearms and swayed in time with him. He was a good dancer, she'd give him that. Angel had always hated dancing and Riley had never had much rhythm. Spike was a good height for dancing with, too; he was considerably taller than her, but not uncomfortably taller like Angel and Riley, both of whom towered over her by almost a foot and why was she comparing Spike to past *boyfriends?* Her cheeks flushed and her pulse quickened slightly, but she wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of unsettling her, so she kept dancing, letting him lead her in gentle turns around the floor. He smelled musky, like smoke and beer, but it was a rich and warm scent, not at all the sort of stale and flat smell she usually associated with beer and cigarettes. She closed her eyes, reveling in the movement, letting the music fill her and guide her as she moved in concert with him. Unconsciously, she let her hands drift to his shoulders, enjoying the feel of his leather coat beneath her fingers and of being *connected* to someone, in tune with him and the music. His hands on her waist guided them, keeping her at a maddening distance from him, not quite touching but not really apart either. It was intoxicating. She opened her eyes and looked at him, eyes meeting his for a moment before she came to her senses. This was *Spike* she was dancing with. Abruptly she jerked away from him.

"I'm thirsty."

He let her go without argument, his expression slightly bemused. //Damn him,/// she thought viciously. She should have known better. Spike had been playing the seduction game for over a hundred and twenty years. What made her think she could beat him at it?

She quickly spun away from him and headed for the bar, not really thirsty but needing something to distract her anyway. Spike followed her, but stopped at the bar a respectful distance away, not pushing it. She ordered a Coke and he ordered a beer and they waited at the bar for their drinks, not looking at each other and not speaking. By the time they were served, the others joined them at the bar.

"I don't know about everyone else, but I'm ready to pack it in for the night, get some shut-eye," Xander said as they gathered around the bar.

"You said we were going home to have sex! That all that dancing made you hot!" Anya complained.

Buffy felt her cheeks burn and she studiously avoided looking in Spike's direction.

"Ahn, we talked about euphemisms. Not everyone needs to know we're going home to have sex," Xander said, only slightly embarrassed. By now he was used to Anya's outbursts.

"And we have a slay date," Willow said happily. She gave Tara a peck on the cheek. "Be home later, kay?"

"Remember, you promised to save some nasty ones for me," Spike reminded her, and she braved a glance at him. He seemed perfectly content, cheerful even, sipping his beer, neither upset nor smug. No biggie, the dancing thing was just Spike being an ass, she told herself.

"Right. Save the nasty ones for Spike," she replied, determined to not let him get the best of her. So he threw her by being all seductive and sexy on the dance floor. She'd already admitted he was hot, right? No reason to be embarrassed.

"Okay then, we're off," Willow said and they headed for the door and out into the warm Southern California night.

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He stood in the shadows outside the comfortable looking home on Revello Drive, waiting. It was monotonous work, watching and waiting for hours and hours, but that did not concern him. He was a patient man, and patience was always rewarded.

Earlier he'd seen them leave the house, the Slayer and her sister. Now he saw the sister return, not with the Slayer, but with another girl her age. A friend, no doubt. They went into the house together and then left again a short time later.

Still, he waited. And watched.

NEXT

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