Summary:Spike and Buffy meet each other in the happiest place on Earth.
Disclaimer:Joss Whedon, the WB and Fox own the characters.

Fireworks

Losing Drusilla was like losing an eye.

For the first few days, Spike was preoccupied with the sheer pain- both physical and mental. After that came the period of adjustment. And then- the time when, presumably healed, he could go forth and prosper.

Except- he didn't know where to go.

New Orleans? Full of vampires. San Francisco? Full of eccentrics. New York? Full of the insane.

He'd heard that Dru had headed directly for New York once she'd left him; but he knew he couldn't follow. The bitterness of their final parting had cut so deep...

There was only one place on earth he wanted to be; and he'd sworn to never set foot there again. So- he settled on L.A. He'd once heard...Angel had mentioned...that the Slayer came from L.A. Aimlessly he wandered the streets- feeding now and then, but for the first time in decades he didn't bother killing his victims.

His usual pursuits failed to hold his interests; and finally he concluded that he was simply missing Dru. Perhaps it was inevitable when a couple had been together as long as they had- even though she'd never been much of a companion for him.

Still, she'd been *there.* This loneliness...no wonder vampires made others of their kind.

The problem was that most of them were just ravening animals, caught up in their blood lust. Spike actually thought that he preferred the company of humans- most of the time. Sometimes he regretted the loss of Dalton, the bookish vampire who'd been killed by the Judge. True, he was an annoying wanker, but at least he was interesting to talk to.

He'd known a bit about Slayers, for instance. Not a lot of use against Buffy...that one was far too unpredictible to conform to any patterns. But it had helped against the other one...Kendra, that was her name.

Spike glanced out the window- lately he'd taken to simply climbing into his car and driving through the night...neither knowing nor caring where he'd end up. Then he'd feed- and sleep; and begin the dreary round all over again. Now it was still early- and where was he? He squinted at a street sign- and started to chuckle.

Anaheim! He'd driven to Disneyland!

Abruptly, he stopped laughing. Well, why not? Perhaps he'd feed on Goofy- it would fit the crazy way he'd been behaving lately.

Spike followed the crowds through the gate...but he felt a certain detachment. What had he to do with a place like this? Almost he turned to leave...but something stopped him. He wandered deeper into the park...New Orleans Square? Yes, perhaps- some idealized antiseptic version of the real thing. He'd liked New Orleans the one time he'd visited with Drusilla; but she had been unhappy and they'd had to leave. How he'd accomodated himself to Drusilla...her likes and dislike, whims and fancies.

Now...he wondered why. Was it...could it be...because her poor shattered mind needed him to function? Needed him so much that he was able to feel sure of her?

Could he really be that pathetic?

It was then that he saw the girl. Tiny, blonde, dressed in an outlandish costume that made him think of Mardi Gras...
There was something about her walk- swinging, confident, almost...cocky...that reminded him of someone else.

Spike quickened his pace; but the crowd was thicker here...for another moment he could see her blonde head...then she was gone.

He thrust his way ruthlessly through the crowd, earning a few curses and plenty of scowls- but it was no use. The girl had vanished. He told himself he'd imagined it...it was a trick of the eye, conjuring up someone he wished to see.

But why? He argued silently. Why would I want to see the Slayer?

The crowd carried him through a bogus graveyard up to the door of a large house reminiscent of those in New Orleans. His thoughts were spinning- even faster than that sinking room. He missed the spiel from the guide leading them down the hall, into another room where a line of hearse-like carriages rolled by. Young men and girls in French-style costumes guided tourists into the conveyances.

Spike stepped forward...and found himself face to face with the Slayer.

"You!" They exclaimed in unison.

She was the first to recover. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same question," Spike retorted. "No..." he resisted as she urged him forward, " I don't want to get into that thing- thank you very much!"

"Any problem here, Buffy?" A tall young man in funereal gab moved protectively toward her.

"No problem, mate," Spike snarled, "unless you want to make one!"

"It's ok, Andy, " Buffy said quickly. "He's...an old friend. Look," she hissed as Andy turned away, "we can't stand here. I'll meet you outside in twenty minutes."

Reluctantly Spike allowed himself to be guided into a carriage by the scowling Andy; but he saw nothing of the remarkable special effects. The Slayer? Working at Disneyland?

He waited outside, smoking a cigarette. The time seemed to crawl by...he started to wonder whether she'd show up.

"Those things will kill you," her voice said behind him.

With a muffled curse, he dropped the cigarette and whirled to face her-but she didn't seem prepared to fight. The Slayer had abandoned her charming costume for an even more attractive short skirt and tank top. She might have been any ordinary teenage girl- prettier than most, but still...another face in the crowd.

Except she wasn't. She made a face at him..."Litterbug."
She picked up the still smoldering cigarette and tossed it into a trash receptacle, while he struggled with the insane urge to apologize. At least she didn't seem hostile. She didn't seem...anything really. She was as pretty as ever, Spike decided, but something was wrong. Her sparkle was somehow...extinguished.

"Why are you here, cutie?" he demanded.

For a second he thought she'd ignore his question- but then she answered slowly, " I think it was partly...because of Kendra."

For some reason this surprised him...he'd been sure she'd mention Angel. But... Kendra? That other Slayer killed by Dru? He'd gotten an impression that Buffy hadn't known her long....

"When Kendra first showed up, I...I was...relieved, in a way. Because it wasn't just up to me anymore. I actually thought, YAY! *She* gets to do the stake and cross thing; and *I* get to retire and go to Disneyland!"

"Didn't quite work out that way, did it, pet?" Spike probed softly.

She shook her head. "No. *Two* Slayers, remember?" She hesitated, and Spike found himself willing her to continue.

Finally it came in a rush. "Kendra never had anything in her life! Nothing- not a friend, not a pet, not even a toy when she was small! Only just...being the Slayer; and she was proud of it. That was all she wanted."

A tear rolled slowly down Buffy's face. "But me...I wanted *more* than that! I wanted fun, and friends...I wanted love! And, because I was stupid and greedy..."

She buried her face in her hands, shaking uncontrollably.

Almost unconsciously, Spike reached for her....
And then- she was in his arms, sobbing against his shoulder.

His first reaction was sheer shock; hesitantly, he put both arms around her, awkwardly patting her back. What was happening to him? He'd never held a woman like this- except for Dru, of course. But Drusilla could be easily diverted with a new plaything; somehow, Spike was convinced that technique wouldn't work with the broken-hearted girl in his arms.

Almost he panicked; what was he doing, cuddling the Slayer? Then instinct took over. He sat on a nearby bench, pulling her onto his lap. Tentatively, he stroked her soft hair, holding her until her sobs quietened.

"It's all right, love...everything's going to be all right." He could hardly believe his own voice...but she seemed soothed by the words. Her tears stopped.

A sudden explosion of brilliant light startled them both- the fireworks were starting.
They watched together- her head against his shoulder, his arms wrapped around her.

Spike was amazed at his own reactions. He thought about how long he'd dreamed of the time when she'd be completely at his mercy and he could kill her while she wept helplessly; and here she now was...and killing her was about the furthest thing from his mind.

Her skin was so warm, soft and silky...
He felt a lunatic urge to caress her but he was afraid to move and break the spell that held them here on this bench, while sprinkles of diamond-bright color filled the sky.

He could recall Angel once saying, "She'd sit on my lap for hours while we watched the stars..."
I wonder, Spike thought to himself, if he ever looked out on a starry night and felt...regret?

The display ended; and the park began emptying rapidly. Buffy got slowly to her feet. She paused to look at him.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, pet?"

Suddenly she smiled; a sudden dazzling smile that made him forget to breathe. Almost fearful- he watched as the sparkle came back to life in her eyes. She leaned over and quickly- deliberately- kissed him on the lips.

While he was still sitting there in frozen stupefaction, she straightened and swung away from him.

"Thanks," she called over her shoulder. He could hear the sounds of her boots tapping on the pavement as she went...but still he couldn't move. Finally, when she was almost out of sight, he regained his wits. He dashed after her.

"Slayer!" She turned to look at him.

"Buffy!" He stopped. It was the first time he'd ever used her name...and this shocked him almost as much as the incident on the park bench.

"What is it, Spike?"

He wasn't sure what it was he wanted to tell her.

"I could...give you a ride," he offered. "Back to Sunnyhell."

She lifted her chin. "Maybe I don't want to go back."

"You do, you know." Spike was suddenly certain of it. "Everyone you love is there."

She glanced away. "Not everyone." She faced him again, "Besides...I told you..."

Spike nodded. "You told me that you wanted love. Well...what of it? That's what everyone desires, really...no matter how much they might pretend they don't. You may be special, Slayer, but you're *not* unique! You want the same thing that everyone wants."

Buffy looked at him curiously. "Even you?"

A flash of outrage hit him- who did this girl think she was? But he sensed he could no longer deny her anything she asked of him. Strangling, he fought to get the answer out...already knowing that he wouldn't be able to lie.

"Especially me."

The words hung between them, revealing far more of himself to her than he'd ever dreamed she would know.
If she laughs...if she tries to mock me, I swear I'll kill her, Spike promised himself.

They stared at one another for a long moment.

Then Buffy sighed, and took his hand.
"So- where'd you leave the car?"

end