full 3/4 1/2   skin light dark       
 
 
Dance
 
<<     >>
 
As Buffy exited the Bronze an hour later, she was instantly aware that there was a vampire near. Standing in the middle of the alleyway for a moment she paused to consider if going after a vamp without a stake was a good idea. Decided it was her duty, or whatever, to do so she walked deeper into the darkened alley. When she cautiously turned a corner and saw no signs of any demons lurking, Buffy sighed to herself. Assuming that she had just been paranoid she turned to go back the way she came.

And nearly walked straight into Spike.

He was leaning up against the chain link fence, a satisfied smirk on his face. He was happy to have surprised her. She had to wonder, though, how vampires did that. Just appeared out of no where. Buffy wanted to be able to do that. It seemed nifty. Not that she would tell him that. Instead she just scowled at him in annoyance.

“It’s rude to corner a girl in a dark alleyway,” she pointed out.

Spike stood up straight and shrugged. “I’m a rude man.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and walked past him back in the direction of the club and the main streets. She had decided to leave early because she didn’t want to push it. This re-established connection she had with her friends now was still very fragile and Buffy was tentative about not pushing any boundaries. They still had a long way to go before they would get back to a bond as strong as they had all once had. And she hadn’t even spoken to Giles yet. She thought that in some ways, she missed him the most. Not just because he was her Watcher and he was meant to guide her through her slaying but because he was her father. In every sense except biology.

As she passed him by, Spike grabbed her arm and swung her backwards into the fence causing it to rattle loudly. She started to tell him to fuck off but he cut her off with a rough kiss. Hands snaked underneath her shirt, groping her quickly. Spike darted backwards, away, before she had a chance to shove him.

“Are you insane or just an idiot?” Buffy asked, wiping her mouth. “My friends are in there. What if they saw?”

Spike glanced at the entrance to the club. “What if they did? And since when are those tossers your friends again?”

Buffy didn’t answer as she straightened her shirt. Spike snorted and folded his arms, either annoyed or just confused. She didn’t know which. The Slayer watched his face and when he didn’t say anymore she sighed and walked past him, again attempting to leave. And again he stopped her. He darted around in front of her and held his hand out towards her. She regarded him for a moment, unsure. Then slipped her hand into his.

Spike, to her surprise, twirled her around in a circle and then pulled her in close. One of his hands resting on her hip, the other clasping her hand. It was then, she realised, he wanted to dance with her. Buffy’s self-consciousness immediately kicked in and she tried to extricate herself from him. Spike held on tight and began to sway to the music that seeped out of the Bronze and on to their own little dance floor.

She knew that anyone could come out of the club and see them. Her friends might see them. And then how would she explain dancing with William the Bloody in a dank alleyway, under a starry sky? Buffy had no answer, had no idea why she didn’t just pull away.

She used to love to dance. Had never been one of those girls who were too embarrassed or shy to move to the pulsing of the music. She would twirl around and sway her hips, run her hands up the chest of the boy she had chosen to move with. Buffy remembered dancing with Willow, everything perky and sugar-coated, and light and breezy. Then there was the time she danced with Xander, full of scorn and vindictiveness, using him to provoke a reaction. Faith and Buffy, holding hands whilst they jumped up and down, moved their bodies with a liquid grace only Slayers possessed, the Chosen Two dancing like they owned the place. Owned the world. And they had, for those few minutes.

And now, here she was, sharing a dance with Spike. Life really took twists and turns you couldn’t anticipate, Buffy had come to learn. She guessed that was the whole point.

She pressed her face into his neck. “What are we doing?”

“Dancing.”

“I mean us,” she sighed, breathing in the scent of his skin. “This…isn’t supposed to be happening. Not with us.”

“The universe is funny like that.” Spike replied, hand creeping up her shirt. “Doesn’t listen to what you tell it.”

Wasn’t that just the truth? If Buffy had her way she would never have been burnt. She’d be with Angel, he’d be curse free and everything in life would be intrinsically right. Instead she was here. In the dark. With the wrong vampire, the wrong body, everything intrinsically wrong. Yet, at that exact moment? She didn’t mind all that much. It felt kind of nice to be held in someone’s arms, to have found a man who wasn’t awkward and nervous with his movements, who knew how she liked to dance, and who let her forget it all. Her burns, her problems with her friends and her mother, her slaying duties – none of them mattered for the length of that dance she shared with Spike.

But the thing about a dance was it always had to end.

The music in the Bronze ebbed and Spike and Buffy parted almost instinctively. She looked at him and something occurred to her.

“Were you in the Bronze earlier?”

Spike pulled a cigarette out. “No. Why, wanted to introduce me to your mates? I think they remember me, love.”

“No. I thought…” she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I should go.”

He lit the cigarette, took a puff. “Don’t let me stop you. But, ’fore you do go, how about we just nip ’round the corner and indulge in a knee-trembler.”

Buffy snorted and left the alley, hearing him follow her she slowed a little so they walked side by side.

Spike took a puff of his cigarette. “Patrolling?”

“Home,” she corrected.

“I’ll walk with you, then.” He glanced at her. “It’s on my way, anyway.”

Buffy smiled. “On your way to where?”

“Your bedroom.”

She laughed and carried on down the street. Spike was straightforward and she appreciated that. It meant there was no confusion as to what they were doing. It wasn’t love, but it wasn’t exactly hate anymore either. It was like a mutual understanding. They both needed each other in a way but neither of them would become too attached. At least, she hoped they wouldn’t because that would lead to a whole big mess.

“So,” he flicked some ash to the ground, “why the reunion with your mates?”

“Seemed like the right time.”

Spike snorted. “Bet those wankers are glad to be back in the bosom. So to speak.”

“Don’t call them that.”

“Why not?”

Buffy walked ahead, looking over her shoulder at him. “If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends.”

Spike gaped, cigarette hanging out of his mouth comically. “Did you really just quote the Spice Girls to me?”

She found herself laughing again, the sound echoing up the street, and they walked the rest of the way back to her house in relative silence. Apart from the occasional muttering Spike was making about really ‘getting with’ her friends. Buffy mostly just ignored his cruder remarks and enjoyed the fact that she wasn’t alone. Every night she patrolled alone, walked home alone. Not tonight.

When Buffy told him he couldn’t come up she was lying, but he didn’t know that. Spike shoved her against the tree in her front yard and proceeded to try and persuade her otherwise. His methods really were very persuasive and Buffy found herself giving in to his demands after letting him sweat it out for a while. She told him he’d have to get in through her bedroom window and be quiet, since her mother was still up. Spike just grinned, kissed her on the nose and made his way around the house.

Buffy straightened her clothes and clomped up the porch to her house, welcoming the warmth as she opened the door and slipped in.

Neither of them had noticed they were being watched.
 
<<     >>