Chapter 1
Wow. An 80's Flashback club. And not just a flashback club... an IMPERSONATOR Flashback Club. Could it get any lamer than that???? And she was here... why? Oh yeah, duh.
Buffy gave herself a mental V-8 slap of the forehead. It's not like it was something so easy to forget, she thought with not a small bit of resentment. She was here because her dad had a hot new squeeze he wanted her to meet. Yeah, that was going to be fun. Not.
The New Squeeze turned out to have a daughter Buffy's age, and in the lame way parents think, her dad and The Squeeze thought it would be oh so cool to take the offspring for a night out together. Clubbing. With her dad.
Buffy couldn't help the robust eye roll at that thought.
Not that Blair had turned out to be that bad, Buffy had to admit. She was even kind of cool. In fact, if away from the watchful and hopeful eyes of their respective parental units, they might actually have fun. At least that was one thing going in her favor tonight.
Recently, her life had been chock full of major suckage, thanks to the stupid squid thing in the school basement turning everyone into zombie slaves and her mom's robot boyfriend, Ted. Not to mention more Angel angst than she could stomach.
No, her life was on a one way ticket to major sucksville, and she couldn't even assert her innocence in all of it. Sometimes, being a Superhero just sucked.
So here she was, shipped off to her dad's like some disobedient child, her mother fully at her wits end-whatever those were.
'It just wasn't fair', Buffy pouted, crossing her arms across her chest to paint a portrait of teenage defiance.
It especially wasn't fair because it was more than apparent that her visit was somewhat of an intrusion in her dad's new found life. That fact was boldly obvious in the way her dad and Sherry were hanging all over each other, and Buffy couldn't help the grimace that took over her carefully made up face.
A feminine laugh erupted next to her and Buffy turned to see Blair smiling in agreement, her head nodding with exaggeration.
Ok, so maybe the night wouldn't be so bad after all.
But that was until they finally walked the two blocks they had been forced to park away from their destination, the weekend night providing a severe lack of parking opportunities. The club, in all its neon lit glory, loomed large and crowded in front of her, and suddenly her former doubts returned with huge smack to the head.
Already, Buffy could hear a live version rendition of A-Ha's 'Take on Me' wafting out of the virtual revolving door as patrons entered and exited with abandon. Clubbing with her dad. Now there was something she didn't think she'd ever be doing.
Once her dad had paid their cover charges and they made their way inside, a profound sense of deja'vu gripped Buffy as she spun around in a slow circle, her mouth agape as she soaked in the atmosphere.
Mumbling about weird coincidences, she turned towards the stage and another stab of vu with a major dash of deja struck her.
"What did you say this place was called?" she asked Blair, her brain not having grasped that bit of information on the way in.
"I don't think we did. Most people just call it that '80's Flashback club', but I think the real name is Rebel Yell."
Now that just sucked. She couldn't even think of Billy Idol without thinking of the bleached blonde undead wannabe.
"Come on honey, let's go get some drinks and find someplace to sit," Hank suggested, not bothering to spare his daughter a second glance as he laced fingers with Sherry and headed towards the bar. Buffy's eyes followed them until they were swallowed by the masses.
Heaving a dramatic teenage sigh, Buffy shook her head in a dejected manner as she prepared to follow her dad.
"They're kind of lame, aren't they?"
Buffy looked over at Blair, a spontaneous smile finding its way onto her face at her sudden co-conspirator. "Oh yeah." Buffy's hazel eyes widened in slight alarm. "Not that I think your mom is lame or anything."
Blair laughed. "I don't think your dad is lame either. They're just... laaaaame," she remarked, drawing out the last word with an exaggerated purse of her lips.
"And that is a major understatement," Buffy agreed, finding her first impression of Blair now fully cemented. There had been an immediate sense of camaraderie, not something she would have expected after meeting under such retarded circumstances.
"Come on, we better go before the parental units have a major cow." Blair tossed a conspiratorial grin in Buffy's direction, and with a subtle flip of her long brown hair, prepared to seek out her mom.
Buffy's mood lifted with the potential of a newfound partner in crime, and with a welcomed burst of enthusiasm, she followed Blair. Maybe-just maybe-something would go right for her. Just once would be nice, and Buffy found herself hoping for a non-mental drain of an evening.
Taking one more quick glance around the club on her way to the bar, Buffy decided that the place was actually kinda... neat. Not that she'd tell her dad that, of course. And any resemblance to the Bronze was purely coincidental, she firmly decided, coming up with the plausible excuse of generic building plans or something.
Then she felt the familiar zap crawl its way up the nape of her neck. So not what she needed , she pouted, taking a more encompassing perusal of the club on this pass, taking careful note of the people in it. Her efficient eyes searched the shimmying throngs of dedicated dancers on the floor off to the side of the stage. She was proud of herself that she was still able to keep up with Blair, who seemed to be a master of slipping her way through the tightly packed club.
"There they are," Blair announced, grabbing Buffy's hand and pulling her over to the bar where her dad and Sherry had just turned away, hands laden with an array of liquid delight.
Buffy's slayer sense kicked in stronger, and with a startled jerk, she realized that it was the bartender who was setting off her undead radar. Well, that wasn't something Buffy saw everyday. A gainfully employed vampire. Didn't matter much to her though, finding they dusted all the same, fat paycheck or not. Not wanting to give up what was beginning to resemble a normal night out, Buffy decided to just keep watch on the undead bartender. Major scene of the dusting variety and her dad were NOT two things she wanted mixed together.
Watching the competent hands of the bartender, Buffy decided that the vamp had seen the movie Cocktail WAY too many times. It was then she noticed the stellar lack of mirrors lining the walls, an oddity in itself in a dance club.
Twenty minutes later, Buffy found herself seated at a table smack dab in front of the stage. There was a lull in the live entertainment, which Buffy was thankful for since Boy George-real or fake- didn't do much for her. Recorded music filled the large club and she found her feet tapping away to the music of the Alarm.
Begrudgingly, Buffy had to admit she was having a good time. With a typical teenage reaction, she had been all prepared girl to not like Sherry the Squeeze at all, but was finding her... entertaining. And her dad? She hadn't seen him this loose and un-uptighty in forever and that translated into no lectures for Buffy, something that was always of the good.
Alright, she may as well be full with the admitty here. Sherry and her daughter were cool. And the club thing? WAY cooler than it sounded.
To Buffy's surprise, she found out it wasn't the first time Sherry had been here, another bit of info that brought her down a few more notches off the pedestal of lameness.
"The girls from work and I come here a lot, actually," Sherry had admitted, not caring that her dad was sitting right there. "WAIT until you see the Billy Idol guy, you're going to die. He is soooo good. Better than the original, and I know; I've seen Billy Idol in concert a few times."
"Oh yeah, he is HOT," Blair jumped in and agreed. "My mom brought me here to see him on my sixteenth birthday."
Buffy must have given something away on her face at the mention of Billy Idol because Blair scrunched her nose up and asked, "Ah, I take it you don't like Billy Idol."
"Huh? What? Oh, no, I like him. It's just one of those... icky memory by association type of things."
"Gotcha," Blair remarked, settling back in her chair. Buffy took the opportunity to look around and noticed that all the tables in front of the stage were now full, and standing room was becoming a serious issue. Testosterone was not something in great abundance amid this up front crowd, and Buffy had to roll her eyes at the sheer number of compacts that were being whipped out as their owners applied fresh lipstick and fluffed their hair.
Buffy had a sudden urge to grab her own mirror and check herself out, then once more gave herself a mental slap. Right. Like that was really necessary for some Billy Idol wannabe.
As if possessed, her own thoughts wandered to the ultimate Billy Idol wannabe, remembering the last time she saw him after he had nearly killed Angel to save his psycho ho bag. He had swooped Psycho Bitch up and left town, Buffy unable to give immediate chase due to the pressing need to evacuate the burning building, thanks to the fire the idiot had started.
Excited murmurs pulled Buffy's attention back, and she sat up straighter in her seat. 'They're like a bunch of damn groupies ,' she groused, watching the throngs of women getting jacked up in anticipation, both young and old in the mix.
The lights suddenly dimmed and more excited twitters sounded around her. Buffy went on immediate alert, the lack of visibility making her nervous. Just as she bent down to reach for the stake in her bag, the spotlights on the stage flashed on in a pulsating display and a low chant began throughout the club.
"Billy, Billy, Billy..."
Buffy's eyebrows raised in an incredulous tribute to the lameness she was witnessing and she looked over towards Blair.
"I know, I know... But I'm serious, you have GOT to see this guy. Talk about major animal magnetism! You'll be going home tonight thinking of him, I can assure you. He is HOT," Blair gushed, her eyes brimming with barely contained excitement. She let loose with a loud whistle as band members began filing on the stage and taking their positions behind their instruments.
A rush of anticipation slammed through her and Buffy found herself grinning, especially after looking at her Dad and Sherry, who were getting into it like everyone else.
Her dad caught her eye. "What? Can't the old man cut loose and have a little fun?" Hank complained good naturedly. "I like Billy Idol. I still have him on vinyl, you know."
The chanting grew louder as the crowd began to get restless. 'It has all the ambiance of a real rock concert ,' Buffy thought with amazement. 'No wonder this place packed them in .'
The spider sense that had been playing with her ever since she stepped foot into the club suddenly jumped into high alert.
And Billy took the stage.
TBC
a/n- this story came about from reading 80's Night by Vamptastica and my 6 yr old daughter making me listen to Billy Idol in the car over and over and over. I hadn't planned on posting it, I just needed to get the plot bunny out of my head, so let me know if it's something that should be continued.
Chapter 2
A burst of black leather and platinum blonde hair shot across the stage and the crowd instantly leapt to their feet; their excited screams swallowed up by the beginning chords of the intro. The entire stage had become a blur of contagious frenetic activity and Buffy felt herself succumbing against her will to the excitement, deciding to look for the trouble later.
In an instant, her brain made the connection and her jaw fell open in incredulity, her entire body registering the shock.
Blair elbowed her in the ribs, a knowing grin plastered on her face. "I told you this guy was singing sex, didn't I?"
Fighting the overwhelming urge to flee, Buffy just nodded mutely, her eyes frozen on the stage. 'Oh god, if they only knew...'
She didn't know what kind of cosmic joke had led to this and cursed the fates for once again making her the sucky Chosen one who wasn't even able to enjoy an evening out with her dad. And here she thought her life had been full of the suckage before...
Then the show really began when a microphone was grabbed and the voice of...oh god, Billy Idol began filling the club.
Buffy found herself speechless. Utterly gobsmacked. It was SPIKE up there. Spike of the "I'm going to kill you" Spikes. Singing.
And singing pretty well, Buffy had to admit. Ok, not just well, more like a world of well. Buffy remained glued to her chair while being pressed in from all sides by a wall of people eager to get as close to the stage as possible, making her thankful that claustrophobia was not an issue for her.
God did he know how to work it, she decided, finding herself mesmerized against her will.
Face to face...
And back to back
You see and feel
My sex attack
Sing it
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
We want
Flesh, flesh for fantasy
Each word crooned was given new meaning as Spike allowed his hips to gyrate side to side in an slow enticing manner, his tight leather pants outlining the hard muscles of his legs and the mighty package in between, his hand traveling up and down the exposed taut muscles of his abdomen causing more than one woman wishing she was that hand. His eyes were heavily lined with liner which just added to the whole package, and his normally slicked back hair was a riot of spikes. Magnitudes of jewelry adorned his body and rather than making him look feminine, merely added to his smoking masculinity.
So far he hadn't seemed to notice her, and Buffy did her best to shrink down in her chair in an attempt to camouflage herself from the intense eyes up on the stage that seemed to burned with life as he sang.
******
'Bloody hell, she was actually here,' Spike thought frantically, doing his best to keep up his usual stage persona. For that short amount of time, he WAS Billy Idol, with an added twist all his own. Each night they came, packing themselves in to watch his act, perfuming the air with the succulent scent of their arousal as they visually ate him up as he danced around the stage.
It should have filled him with a sick sense of satisfaction that they were getting off on a creature that could easily rip their throats out, but it kept failing to. The encompassing sweep he made each night of the crowd should have set his demon howling, yet it was always left with a keen sense of disappointment. It enraged him on every level that he kept looking for her, but he was helpless to put an end to it. He was a VAMPIRE for fuck's sake. It was wrong to covet the Slayer. Yet she continued to coat both his waking and sleeping thoughts until he was bloody well ready to tear his own throat out.
And now she was here.
A slow smirk graced his lips. Fun was about to be had.
********
"OH MY GOD!" Blair squealed next to Buffy, eyes wide with excitement. "He keeps staring at you!"
"No he doesn't," Buffy protested, knowing she was lying through her teeth. Spike's eyes had suddenly locked on hers and refused to let go, sending a wave of embarrassment through her. Now wishing they weren't sitting two feet from the stage, Buffy did everything she could to avoid looking at him.
"YES, he does!" Blair confirmed, not the only one with jealous thoughts.
Thankfully, 'Flesh For Fantasy' came to an end because Buffy found herself having a difficult time not watching Spike's capable and deadly hands stroking his own body, having to will her eyes to remain focused on a spot behind Spike's head while she feigned nonchalance.
Suddenly burning up, Buffy slipped the denim jacket from her shoulders then assumed a bored look, plastering a fake courtesy smile on her face as she clapped with polite enthusiasm.
******
Bitch.... Trying to act all bored... we'll just see about that, Spike decided as he watched the Slayer out of the corner of his eye.
He waited for the noise to settle down a bit before putting the mike to his mouth.
"You all bloody well pumped up or what?" Spike shouted, the anticipated affirmation shouted right back at him making him curl his upper lip in true Billy fashion. "Right, so let's do it then."
Spike nodded at the band members behind him and they began the musical intro.
Putting the microphone in the stand to free up his hands, Spike sang,
"Here she comes now sayin' Mony Mony"
The anticipated shout back from the audience earned another sultry grin from Spike.
"HEY! GET LAID, GET FUCKED!!"
"Oooooh, aren't you a right nasty little bunch," he purred into the microphone, curling his tongue behind his front teeth as he smirked into the audience. The scent of arousal was everywhere now, but Spike ignored it. He had something a little different in mind.
"Shoot 'em down turn around come on Mony"
"HEY! GET LAID GET FUCKED"
*********
'God, where was a rock when you needed one?' Buffy thought frantically. This was surreal, insane. This was just... wrong. Spike and death in the sentence? Very right. Spike and sex in the same sentence? Very, very wrong!!! And god, with her FATHER sitting right there? Her father who was shouting along with everyone else?
No, this was so not happening.
Buffy felt an unneeded bathroom trip coming on and quickly stood up. She had to escape this... and NOW. Her brain was thinking bad, nasty thoughts, and that was SO not of the good.
Blair looked at her questioningly and Buffy leaned down to yell in her ear, "Gotta go to the bathroom."
The look Blair flashed her clearly questioned her sanity in going NOW, but she nodded in acknowledgement before turning back to the stage with greedy eyes.
Pushing herself away from her chair proved to be harder than anticipated as the wall of people behind her proved unyielding. So intent on getting through, she missed the words being spoken on stage.
*****
Spike saw the look of panic crawl into the Slayer's eyes and had to bite back his laughter. So the girl was feeling all flustered and dainty, was she? Good.
When he saw her stand and her desperate attempt to escape, his jaw set in determination. No way was he giving up so easily, not when he had her right where he wanted her.
Signaling to the band to repeat the chords they had just played, he stepped back to the mike.
"So, I'm thinking I've had a bit too much of dancin' by myself, don't you think? Think I need to remedy that a bit." He waited for the accompanying hollering to begin before making his move.
Using all of his predatory grace, he easily leapt from the stage to the table two feet from the stage, landing in a smooth crouch. Ignoring the shocked looks of the other occupants of the table as they checked to make sure their drinks hadn't been knocked over, Spike smirked as the Slayer whipped back around to face him.
"What do you say, luv? Shall we...dance?"
Chapter 3
DANCE? What the hell was he talking about? They couldn't fight right here, in front of everybody!! ! Was he insane? Buffy cast a nervous glance around, finding practically every eye in the club pinned on her as they waited with barely bated breath to witness her reaction. Those who frequented Rebel Yell knew this was a highly unusual event occurring here, and blessed their luck for being here this night to see it.
Buffy's face felt like it had forgotten to move as she looked back at Spike. Did he HAVE to keep being all crouching-on-the-table guy? Taunting her with that evil smile of his? Oh yeah...she'd give a reaction all right.
"Huh?" she asked dumbly.
"Don't believe I stuttered there, pet. You and me. On the stage, " Spike drawled, holding his hand out to her.
Buffy tried frantically to back away from the proffered appendage, her eyes growing wide with dawning horror. "Oh noooo way. No you and me. No stage." Her voice was shrill as she tried to pass through the impenetrable mass of bodies behind her who were all watching this take place with fascination and not a small bit of envy.
Blair grabbed her arm. "Where are you going? Go!" she hissed in her ear.
Buffy shook her head back and forth frantically. "No way."
A cool palm suddenly slid into her unsuspecting hand, and Buffy stared down at it in horror before looking at its owner.
A familiar scarred eyebrow was arched in a challenging manner as Spike regarded her with amusement. "You're not....scared of the Big Bad, are you, luv?"
Buffy's eyes narrowed as she reacted just how he had expected, letting the Slayer come out to cause a bit of trouble. Her jaw jutted out in defiance to his dare and by the spark that suddenly flared in her eyes, Spike knew he had been given his answer.
Turning to the middle-aged man at the table with the Slayer, Spike offered him an easy smile. "Mind if I dance with your daughter a bit, eh?"
"Nope, not at all," came the upbeat reply.
Spike nodded his thanks and turned back to Buffy, tugging at the small hand firmly trapped in his. "Let's go then."
*********
'What was she doing?', Buffy thought frantically as she used her vacated chair to step onto the table, making the same easy leap to the stage that Spike had.
Why was she so stupid? She had allowed herself to react to Spike's not so subtle taunt and now...now she was totally doing a Courtney Cox in the Born in the USA video! All with the groupie stage dancing and everyone staring at her...
And her dad! God! He was just sitting there all puffed up with pride that it was HIS daughter up there. Did he even know the meaning of jailbait? Buffy discovered that Sherry was looking entirely way too excited and Blair was just looking in awe.
Everyone else seemed to be staring with a mixture of envy and curiosity, wondering the reason for this odd interlude in the normal performance.
Now that she was on the stage, everything looked so different and uncertainty suddenly overwhelmed her. Wishing she hadn't taken her jacket off, she tried to find somewhere to put her hands, finally crossing her arms nervously over her bared torso, all the while shooting daggers into Spike's back.
He had grabbed the microphone again and was stalking his way toward her. There was no other way to define the way his body was moving with such liquid grace. Stalking.
Finding herself now feeling like Baby in the end scene of 'Dirty Dancing' except lacking the snappy little hip shaking, Buffy watched with growing wariness as Spike drew closer, her body growing stiff with anticipation. He was so dead for putting her through this humiliation.
She realized the band had been playing the same chords over and over; observ-o girl that she was, not even noticed until now. Raising the microphone once more, Spike's voice filled the small club
Well you could shake it Mony Mony
Shot gun dead and I'll come on home yeah
Don't stop cookin' 'cause I feel all right now
Don't stop now come on Mony
Come on yeah, I said yeah,
Buffy stood there in abject horror as his voice, his entire presence washed over her, flooding her with awareness. This was so not of the good.
Then she realized the microphone was in her face and she allowed a weak answering yeah, to fall from her mouth.
Spike smirked knowingly and circled behind her, one hand settling on her hip as he belted out a heated yeah,
This time when the microphone was thrust in front of her face, she gave it a bit more effort, but it still sounded weak coming after the robust voice of Spike.
yeah, yeah
Bending down to her ear, Spike whispered, "Come on, Slayer, give it to me good."
Buffy couldn't help the shiver that tickled down her spine as his cool breath teased her ear, then gasped when Spike banded his arm around her bare abdomen and hauled her against him so that her back was flush against the bare chest behind her. The soft leather of the vest he wore teased her skin and she instinctively stiffened, her slayer sense screaming for release.
"Relax Slayer. Don't want me to think you're... chicken, do you?" he asked softly, chuckling at the glare she tossed over her shoulder. She was so bloody predictable, he thought with an edge of fondness.
"I am going to get you SO fired," she shot at him.
His laughter surprised her, and she gasped when she felt his hips begin to move in time to the music, and she couldn't help the rigid posture her body assumed once more.
"Chicken. Bwock Bwock..."
One more heated glare and she was on it, intent on teaching him that NOBODY called her a chicken. Buffy choked down her nervousness and let her more assertive self take over.
Letting the music flow into her, Buffy relaxed and moved against him, her ass pressing against the hardness behind her. Figuring he expected her to turn and run from this, she was proud of herself for standing up to him.
A keen sense of feminine satisfaction took place when that hardness got even harder. HA. She was turning him on. Good. That's what he got for calling her a chicken.
The mike was once again raised, and Buffy was ready for it this time, allowing herself to slip into the role that made her his equal rather than a dumbstruck teenager. It was now Slayer vs. Vampire.
'Cause you make me feel...
So good, so good, Well I feel all right
You're so fine, you're so fine, You're, and I feel all right
I said yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
The song was getting her hot, there was no question of that. Buffy had never really listened to the words before, but now in Spike's arms, up on stage in front of a crowd of people, it took on a whole new meaning and she suddenly realized this had gone beyond the black and white.
Oh My God.
It was about sex. She feel it, could feel the desire pouring through her, could feel the evidence poking her in the ass as their hips ground together in a sultry circle in time to the music.
The crowd gradually faded away until all that remained was Spike, his skin against her skin, his voice filling her veins with something she didn't even know she needed as she desperately fought back the paranoia that kept wanting to throw itself up.
'Hello! Master Vampire grinding his...thing against your butt...' it told her.
But it felt good, Buffy decided. It made her feel sexy, made her feel...wanted...
***********
Spike had sang this very song night after night, but it had never had any meaning until now. She felt so right against him and suddenly he was desperate to see her eyes, spinning her around with one hand while making sure to keep her body shielding his protruding erection from the hungry eyes of the crowd.
A light gasp escaped Buffy at his abrupt movements, and she looked up at him.
And smiled.
tbc
Chapter 4
He was a dead man; well,in more than just the literal sense. This moment was a turning point for Spike. Just a simple smile, freely offered to him by her... the slayer. He knew damn well that he'd had feelings building inside him when he'd fled Sunnydale after the spell to get Dru back on her feet.... feelings that he'd done his best to ignore and deny. But when he was suddenly gifted with that shy, genuine smile, it just about knocked him and his denial right on his ass.
When her arms reached up to curl around his neck, her fingers teasing the gelled spikes-a-la Billy at the back of his head, he knew he was completely lost to her. She could have shoved a stake right through his heart just then and he wouldn't have made a move to stop her; so enraptured in the not-so-innocent way she continued to move against him.
But Spike was well aware the girl's father was sitting there in the audience; and while permission had been freely given, Spike wasn't about to do the type of dancing that his demon was screaming for. A long buried-and presumed dead-sense of Victorian values suddenly overwhelmed him in acute protest at the thought of degrading the girl under her father's watchful eye; so he settled for gripping her waist possessively instead of grabbing her ass and smashing her mound against his aching erection like he yearned to.
Now holding her a willing captive under his intense stare, Spike curled his tongue behind his teeth as they slowly swayed in perfect rhythm to the music the band continued to improvise, working the same rifts over and over.
****
It was different being face to face where she could look right into his eyes, Buffy realized. She couldn't lie to herself now, couldn't pretend that it wasn't Spike who was behind her, who had managed to make her feel like it might even be okay to let herself be bad for once. To actually earn the title that she had been so easily labeled with by her parents and school officials.
Buffy had thought that she had yearned for validation of her innocence, of her fight for good. To have the world know that she wasn't the trouble-maker they thought she was. That all the things she did that made her "seem" bad were in fact because of a Chosen duty.
But she was wrong. Wow, was she really off.
With a startling flash of insight into her own mind, Buffy realized that she really just yearned to be bad; just a little rebellion that would go a long way. A crushing need that had been studiously ignored deep inside of her as she fought night after night for the side of good. A need that had suddenly found itself filled... by a pair of piercing blue eyes that should be glazed over with evil-yet weren't-and a solid body that felt incredible where it was intimately pressed against hers.
Buffy searched deeper into Spike's eyes, trying to figure out just what the hell was happening here. He hated her, or so she thought. The multiple attempts on her life WERE a bit telling; but there was no trace of evil intent lurking behind the stormy blue now. Instead they just seemed to mirror back this weird sense of connection.
A connection that had always been there.
That she had ignored.
But should she give into it now?
Cat calls and shrill whistles pierced the air, effectively breaking the seductive spell that had spun around the two on stage as they basked in each other's arms.
Just like that, Buffy was slammed back into the land where Good Slayers didn't behave like this in public... especially with notorious vampires. That aching part that had just been filled to the brim with realization? It was effectively beaten back down by Buffy's keen-and annoying-sense of responsibility. Of duty.
'Oh my god, I practically had sex with him on the stage!' Buffy thought frantically, her face rapidly filling with color. Taking a barely discernable step back, it was just enough to separate her heated flesh from his, and she felt-rather than heard-the growl that reverberated from his chest at her very deliberate action
Buffy cast a quick glance over at her dad, wincing as she saw the openly fascinated faces watching her. What the hell had she been thinking? She briefly wondered how much alcohol her dad had consumed because he just gave her a lopsided smile and toasted her with his very empty glass. Her jaw practically dropped when she saw the look of pride he wore on his face.
Wow. That was something. She had earned respect from her dad by practically having sex on a stage with a vampire. She'd have to remember that one.
There was a flurry of activity off stage that drew Spike's attention away from her deliberate defection, effectively answering Buffy's paranoid question of 'what now?', A burly man stood just offstage, his size and lack of neck screaming "Bouncer", who began giving a series of curt hand signals to Spike as he apparently barked orders into a handheld.
"Bloody hell," Spike bit out, his eyes suddenly all business.
"What?" she whispered, suddenly finding herself of the majorally confused. She wanted her Spike back, she realized with growing desperation, suddenly craving that closeness she had shared with him for such a short while. Until she blew it and had acted like super freak.
Not giving her the courtesy of an answer, Spike smashed her back against him roughly and quickly belted out the last stanza of the seeming non-ending song, none of the earlier seductiveness present now. Oh, he was still sexy as hell, but it didn't melt her the way it had before.
Spike still managed to offer a bit of innuendo with the words "Ride your pony" that got her a bit hot, but it was all just for show. Buffy could see and feel the difference now, and this was clearly Spike, the Entertainer at work here.
The instant the last note faded away, Spike released her and swaggered up to the mic stand. He shoved the microphone into its appropriate slot and addressed the enraptured crowd leaving Buffy standing there with glaring uncertainty.
"We're going to take a quick break, folks," he announced with a sexy smirk before whipping around to grab her hand, pulling her off the stage with him.
Okay...
The only Spike she had ever really dealt with before was the cocky "I'm going to kill you on Saturday" Spike; but now he just kept continuing to metamorphosis before her very eyes. Now, she'd seen Billy!Spike , Spike the Seducer of young innocents (well, she was!) and now she was dealing with Spike On a Mission . And Caveman Spike was making his presence known with the dragging by the hand thing; which probably left everyone in the club with the impression that he was dragging her backstage to have sex.
And why did that NOT bother her as much as it should?
"What have we got?" Spike asked grimly, his hand like a vise around Buffy's smaller one.
"It's Bud's gang. They gearing up for an all front assault," the bouncer-guy stated.
"Who's BUD?" Buffy asked in baffled confusion, noting the flurry of activity going on.
Activity that was very familiar to her.
The preparation for battle, something she was more than intimately acquainted with. She realized with a start that half of the bodies moving about were of the undead sort, and she instinctively whipped herself into Slayer mode; searching for possible exits, possible weapons of a wooden persuasion... all while staring hard at Spike while trying to figure out what the HELL was going on.
"Are we going with plan A or B, boss?" the burly bouncer asked.
"Boss?" Buffy echoed, feeling suddenly like she had stumbled into an alternate reality of some sort. No wonder he'd laughed at her when she said she was going to get him fired.
Spike pinched the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb, the very image of concentration.
"Boss...uh, you do know you got the Slayer there?" Bouncer announced curtly, his beefy hand still wrapped around his hand held radio.
Spike offered his undead employee a chilling look.
"Spike...what....?" Buffy asked once more in confusion, her sense of unease growing.
"Got us a gang of vamps gunning to attack the club tonight."
Buffy looked around. "And that is different from this gang of vamps because...?"
Spike tipped his head in their direction. "Cos this lot works for me, that's why."
"Ah of course. That's explains everything," Buffy muttered, wondering why it really did. Since WHEN did she trust Spike? "And why exactly are they attacking the club?"
The smirk he gave her was pure evil seduction. "Because they have a few issues with me, I suppose. Not too happy I'm running them out of what used to be their town."
Alarm shot through her and not the musical sort she had listened to earlier. "You're the Master here?"
That earned a nonchalant shrug. "Guess it depends on how you bloody well look at it."
"And if you were looking at it from my side...? she prompted.
"Then yeah, guess I am."
tbc....
Chapter 5
Buffy found herself blinking slowly in response to the casual acknowledgement. "Oh."
"Oh? That all you have to say about it?" A slight hint of derision colored his voice.
"I'm sure I'll come up with something more profound later, but honestly right now? I just want to know whose ass needs to be kicked so I can get my dad, his girlfriend and my new potential friend out of here in one piece." This was of the familiar, this life save-age stuff and adrenaline rushes that had nothing to do with sexy vampires who looked too damn good in leather pants.
"You gonna fight with me?" Spike looked surprised.
"Let me ask just one question. Does plan A or B involve the premature deaths of anyone in this club by your fangs?" Her look was intent as she waited for his answer; a response she realized she didn't even need to hear. Somehow she kinda already knew he didn't eat his customers, and didn't even want to contemplate the wigginess factor of that one. This Spike was different. She didn't know how or why, but she knew it with dead certainty.
This was a Spike she could fight next to, and more importantly, could trust to watch her back.
The slightly indignant look he threw her gave her the only answer she needed. "Please. They're my bread and butter. Not about to go offin' them. Bad for business, you know?"
She nodded and smiled softly to show that she really did know and more importantly, that she believed him. "I'm going to need weapons."
The No Neck Bouncer's eyes bulged at that request before snapping to attention. This guy was big with the redneck, Buffy realized, something that had not been lost during his turning. Big and stupid, that was the only way Buffy could think to describe him.
" Boss... as your top security advisor," No Neck puffed up with self importance, " I just want to say that putting weapons in the Slayer's hands is kinda stupid."
Before Spike could respond, Buffy had whipped out the chopstick holding her hair in place and had kicked the beefy legs out from under the unsuspecting vampire; causing him to fall to the ground with a solid thud. The flurry of activity around them came to an immediate standstill at the loud interruption, and a few of Spike's men moved to intercede, but a fierce look from their boss stopped them deader in their tracks.
Buffy straddled the over-built chest, her knees smashing down to effectively pin his arms by his side. Within a blink of an eye, she had the pointy end of the chopstick positioned strategically over his heart.
"Want to say my hands are stupid now?" Buffy said in a chilly voice, deliberately doing the misquoting thing.
Spike's cock stirred at her little show of violence, relishing the pure menace in her voice. God, he loved her like this, all fire and venom. She was bloody gorgeous, and he was thankful he could finally just admit that to himself without all the self-recriminations.
"Nice move, pet. But, next time you might want to rethink the plastic chopsticks."
Buffy held up the eating utensil and squinted her eyes at it. "Oh crap, I totally thought this was wood."
Another vampire of the No Neck variety rushed up. God, where did Spike get these guys? "Our window of opportunity has just been shortened. They're already on the move," he barked out, doing a double take at the spectacle on the floor.
Spike let out a roar of irritation. "What happened to the twenty minute ETA?"
No Neck #2 shrugged. "Don't know, boss. But the information is solid."
"Bloody hell." Spike's brain rapidly worked up a plan. "Ok, first order of business is to get the humans away from all the doors, then we'll work on getting them downstairs or something."
"What's downstairs?" Buffy found herself asking, pushing herself up off the vampire she had threatened with the plastic chopstick. After offering a helping hand up, Buffy just shrugged when her gesture was not well received. There was not one part of her brain that questioned Spike's duplicity in all of this, and she shrugged off the wiggy factor once more.
"The basement. Got it set up kind of like a bomb shelter of sorts, but with class. Leads to the sewers," Spike replied distractedly, as more vampire Bouncers filled the backstage area. They all wore the same uniform of black pants and a tight black tshirt, each sporting radios on their belts and Buffy didn't even want to think what else they were sporting.
Glaring at Buffy behind Spike's back, the original No Neck bouncer gestured to the stage. "You need to do something about that, Boss."
Buffy finally tuned into the background noise and realized with a start that the crowd was chanting "Billy, Billy, Billy, " continuously. They sounded nothing but anxious to have their "Billy" returned to them, and Buffy couldn't help but roll her eyes.
Spike sighed, and he seemed so human at that moment that Buffy forgot to blink.
"Yeah, guess we did get them all worked up, then just walked off," Spike remarked to Buffy with a suggestive tilt of his eyebrow.
No Neck Bouncer belted out an ugly laugh and adjusted his crotch, giving Spike a knowing look. "Yeah, kinda of like pushing the pause button in the middle of a porno. I know it gave me a juicy boner."
Buffy didn't even see where it came from, but Spike suddenly had a stake in his hand and his employee was floating to the floor in a small pile of dust.
She knew her mouth was agape, but didn't seem able to do anything about it as she looked from the pile on the floor, to Spike's grimly set features and back to the pile of dust.
"He overstepped his bounds," was the only mumbled explanation Spike would give. He stopped one of his men and told him to fetch the Slayer's party of three and bring them backstage.
Confusion flooded her when she heard his order, and for the first time, a hint of doubt began creeping its way through her common sense. Was she just being REALLY gullible? She was taking so much on faith here, which was ridiculous because hello... vampire, all with the killing and everything. With her dad with her, she left herself even more vulnerable. Buffy looked at Spike, hoping she could read some of his honest intent in his face.
Spike saw the flash of paranoia creep into her eye and found himself desperate to quell her fear. Even with time being of the essence, he allowed himself to haul her sensually to him, and tipped his head to lightly nuzzle her neck, his tongue darting out to trace a path along the warm, pulsing trail he found waiting for him. Buffy instinctively stiffened in response to the heightened alarm of her slayer sense but then his words began to wash over her, filling her, warming her back up again as they were whispered softly; his cool breath teasing her ear causing her to shiver with wicked delight.
"I'm not bringing them back here to eat them, if that's what you're thinking. Or you. Just figured you'd want them someplace safer, is all."
Buffy nodded, her eyes showing the gratitude she felt, before being filled with confusion. "What happened to you, Spike? Is there a reason for this not-quite-so evil you?"
A small smile played along his full lips leaving Buffy entranced by his sheer beauty. Ever so slowly, his head dipped down and he brushed the briefest of kisses across her lips. "We'll talk this out later."
He released her and took a step back, and Buffy found herself dumbstruck at the intensity of emotion shadowing his face. But then, with a mere cocky toss of his head, he changed before her very eyes.
With a sexy sneer of his upper lip, he became Billy once more and disappeared with a hot, long-strided swagger though the side curtain to be instantly greeted with a burst of thunderous applause and loud enthusiasm.
"Buffy?" she heard her dad ask in confusion from behind her. "What's going on?"
Chapter 6
Buffy whipped around, a syrupy smile plastered on her face as she nervously looked around at the flurry of majorally incriminating activity that was going on around her. Thank god nobody was in game face because that would have been so not of the good.
"Are you in some sort of trouble again?" Hank asked, immediately jumping to wrong conclusions and wondering how much he was to blame for it. Maybe he shouldn't have let her dance like that on the stage, he thought in hindsight.... "Is that what all this security is for?"
"No, I'm not in trouble again," Buffy replied heatedly. God, why was she immediately blamed for everything the second something didn't make sense? Was that explained in the stupid Slayer handbook that she had never received?
"Go you with all the heavy duty pelvic grind-age! That was wicked hot," Blair exclaimed, her eyes widening appreciatively at the impressive display of muscular bouncers who continued to populate the large backstage area. Buffy's spider sense was driving her insane from being in such close proximity of so many of the undead and she was having to work hard to ignore it. The human to vamp ratio now had the undead in the lead, and Buffy didn't really care for those odds. Her unease grew as more men in black arrived to join in the preparations, giving her a wide berth as they passed by. Buffy was more than fine with that, not really much with the trusting thing.
She trusted Spike. Well, kinda, sorta. To a point, she decided on the spot. She'd be stupid to put ALL her trust in someone whose recent mission in life was to kill her.
His men were a different story however. She was the Slayer, and she was weaponless. Luckily, something that was easily remedied. Since all she had to offer in the way of protection was the not-so-much threat of plastic chopsticks, something with a bit more of an edge to it was her first priority.
"Are those props?" Sherry asked, pointing to boxes of weapons that were being opened. Buffy missed Sherry studying the weaponry being unloaded with a discerning eye, a look of intense curiosity overtaking her petite features as she beheld some of the older weapons being handed out.
"Oh yeah, total props. I think Spike is going to do some Knights of the Round Table revival or something," Buffy improvised lamely as she walked over to retrieve a large handled antique battle ax from one of the numerous selections. Slinging it easily over her shoulder, she rolled her eyes at the sudden fearful looks of those undead in her immediate vicinity.
"Somehow, I'm just not seeing it," Sherry announced, her eyes searching Buffy's face quizzically. "
"Buffy... I'm afraid I'm a little confused. Why exactly are we back here? And who is Spike?" Sobriety seemed to have become Hank's friend and Buffy was frantically trying to come up with a logical explanation that would explain this whole thing. Well, without REALLY explaining it.
Because going into the whole Chosen thing? So not what she felt like going into right now.
Luckily for her, Spike came striding through the curtain, immediately becoming her Spike again the second he was off the stage. Ack, since when was he HER Spike? Bad thoughts.
This Spike looked like sauntering danger, cold determination etched on his focused features as his intense eyes sought her out immediately .
"Got the evacuation going," he announced to her, accepting a radio from one of his men, "I've got a group of men on that, getting them downstairs."
"How'd you manage that one?" Buffy asked, thankful for the interruption even though she knew her dad was listening to every word.
"Told them some git bombed the mens crapper and the club was about to be flooded in shit. Luckily for them, before the smell became an issue, I was opening our new Basement addition up early, and drinks were on the house the rest of the night."
"Very 'Caddyshack' of you," Buffy replied dryly, rolling her eyes.
His answering grin warmed her, then his attention was focused on the mission. "What's the eta?"
The No Neck bouncer shrugged grimly. "I lost contact. Our visual has been lost."
"Buggering fuck!" Spike bit out, going to the curtain to check out the progress of clearing out the top level. "We got any of those stink bombs?" He asked No Neck. When given the affirmative, Spike ordered, "Go ahead and unleash one of those. Maybe that'll get their soddin' feet moving a bit quicker."
No Neck scurried away to do Spike's bidding.
"Buffy, what in the HELL is going on here?" Hank asked once more, his voice becoming more forceful due to his escalating confusion.
"Dad, I'll tell you in a minute ok?" Buffy replied, then turned back to Spike.
"If you knew where they were, why didn't you try to stop them on the way?" Buffy found herself asking, accepting the weapons and radio Spike handed her. She was well aware of the shocked looks of her 'party' but there were other things more important right now.
"Could have," Spike replied, "but it's Friday night. Too many people out there. An all out and out vampire fight in the middle of the street? Too risky. To many unknowns."
"A WHAT?" Hank interrupted. "Buffy, I need to talk to you. You will say goodnight to this...man, and we're leaving. Now."
Shaking off the parental hand that attempted to grab her arm, Buffy continued her conversation with Spike. "So, you are fighting on familiar ground, is that it?"
Spike nodded, opening a trunk that held Kevlar vests. Slipping one on, he handed one to Buffy. "Got more control this way."
Hank sighed darkly. "I didn't want to listen to your mother, you know. I didn't want to believe that you were a trouble maker... Bring you to a club, you get involved in gang warfare...."
Spike shot Hank a black look. "Are you an idiot? The girl isn't a troublemaker, you git."
Sherry picked up the battle ax that Buffy had set down and began examining it. "This is beautiful craftsmanship," she announced reverently, turning it over to study the other side. Shooting a direct look at Buffy, she asked, "These aren't props, are they?"
Buffy shook her head in a distracted manner. "No."
"Oh god, your mother is going to have a field day with this one," Hank grumbled, covering his face with the palms of his hands.
"Dad, I'm sorry. We can talk about this later, but right now I just need you to trust me, ok? Can you do that?" Buffy pleaded.
Spike called three of his men over. "Need to get this lot downstairs. They belong to the Slayer. Anything happens to them, and you'll be praying for a quick dusting, got it?" he threatened, then looked at the one human among them. "And you'll be be strung up by your entrails and left to rot."
The men nodded gravely and turned to the group in question. "Come with us, we'll get you downstairs."
"You're sparing three of your men to protect them?" Buffy asked, oddly touched.
Spike shrugged uncomfortably. "Wanted your focus on the fight, is all."
Buffy's dad refused to go. "Buffy, I need to know just what is going on. This is ridiculous."
With reverent eyes, Sherry put a hesitant hand on Buffy's arm. "You're...a Slayer?"
Suspicion immediately took over. "How do you know about Slayers?" Buffy demanded, tensing with anticipation.
Tbc...
6
"It was supposed to be a myth," Sherry replied, studying Buffy's reactions closely. Could it really be true? Oh god, suddenly Sherry hoped with everything that was in her that it was.
Buffy's face remained suspicious and immobile, and she suddenly wished Giles was with her. This was probably another thing covered in the Slayer handbook-What to Do When Confronted and Asked if you Really Exist: Pages 102-104
"What do you know about Slayers?" Buffy repeated, her voice telling Sherry that she was not to be trifled with.
"Sherry, what are you talking about? My daughter isn't...anything," Hank announced with baffled look.
"Gee, thanks dad. I'm really feeling the love here."
"That's not what I meant, young lady, and you know it," Hank insisted. "Sherry, what exactly are you asking?"
Sherry turned to look at Hank but directed her words at Buffy. "During my research for my thesis-I have a masters in art history- I came across an obscure book with depictions of a girl referred to as 'the Slayer'," Sherry began. "It was amazing, the most incredible thing I had ever seen. The thing was, it didn't read like fiction. So I tried tracking down where the book originated from, but I came up with one dead end after another. It was almost as if the thing never existed. Then someone broke into my house one night and that was one of the things that turned up missing."
'Yeah, well that sure reeks of the Council,' Buffy thought to herself. Her stance became less hostile as it became apparent that Sherry was not a threat to her.
"Yeah, mom was major obsessed, let me tell you," Blair announced, studying Buffy carefully. She had always thought her mom's obsession was kind of off, but the whole myth WAS cool. Buffy... a Slayer? Nah, too weird. Her mom was whacked on this one.
"I guess you could say it became my obsession. I traced it as far as England, and then the trail turned cold. It's always in the back of mind though. But it was incredible. I know I keep repeating that, but there was just something about the whole thing. The pictures, the stories..." Her voice trailed off in awed reverence and she looked at Buffy once more.
Are you...?"
Buffy's mouth flattened to a grim line, then sighed with resignation. "Maybe."
"Sherry, what are you talking about?" Hank asked again, desperately wishing he hadn't consumed as much alcohol as he had in such a short period of time.
Sherry took a step closer to Buffy, her face filled with a sense of profound wonderment. "I had the feeling there was more to the story, that's why it gripped me so. Wait." Her eyes widened with dawning realization. "If you're real, then that means...."
"I think we better talk about this later, ok? In case you hadn't noticed, but now is really not the time for me to come out of the closet."
"Are vampires real?" Sherry pressed as if Buffy had not spoken.
Buffy couldn't help the small snort that escaped and hoped that Sherry hadn't heard it. Swinging a crossbow over her shoulder, she replied, "Yeah."
"Are you both out of your mind?" Hank asked, his eyes wide with incredulity.
"See, I told you we didn't have time for this! He's so not going to get it!" Buffy accused Sherry, then called over her shoulder, "Spike!"
Spike turned around from his conference with a group of his men. "What?"
"Can you show them that vampires are real?"
"What?"
Her nervousness gave way to irritation. "Vampires. Proof. Hello?"
"Oh. Right." With a coarse grinding of facial bones, Spike's face slid into his vampiric visage; then just as quickly, smoothed it out. He looked at Buffy. "That good enough?"
"Better be," Buffy grumbled, just wanting to get to the ass kicking part of the evening, now having even more extra tension she needed to work out. "Your game face looks funny with make-up on though. Anyone ever tell you that?"
"Fuck you, Slayer." Spike turned his attention back to his men and Buffy looked at her dad, who now appeared frightened. Somehow, this proving her innocence thing just wasn't nearly as satisfying as it should have been.
"Why are you looking at me like you're scared of me, dad?" Buffy asked slowly, certain that her night could not get any worse.
Hank shook his head and was just about to answer when a loud boom was heard and the earth began moving under their feet. A gaping hole became visible in the back wall when the cloud of residual smoke died down.
"Since when do vamps use explosives?" Buffy cried, eyes widening as a stream of the undead began pouring through the new access.
"Get down!" Buffy yelled at her dad, pushing Sherry and Blair behind a table. She threw them a couple of stakes. "Any of them come after you, stick this through their heart."
"Just like in the book?" Sherry asked
Buffy allowed a brief smile to light up her face. "Just like in the book, Sherry."
With that, Hank watched his only daughter jump into the fray and could only watched stunned at what he was witnessing.
Risking a whisper to Sherry, he asked, "What exactly IS a slayer?"
"According to the book I found, it's just one girl Chosen to fight vampires. That's why I thought it was just a myth, but there was just something about the way it was written," Sherry replied, wishing she had a camera to memorialize this moment. "Your daughter is incredible, Hank. Look at her."
And for the first time, Hank saw his daughter through new eyes. And she was magnificent
**********
Two weeks later
Buffy brutally stabbed her tater tots which put her lunch tray in major peril. Using her quick reflexes, she caught it just on the brink of disaster before it tumbled to the cafeteria floor.
It had been two weeks since that night.Two long, lonely and boring weeks of virtual HELL on the Hellmouth.
Major ass had been kicked that night in LA, but did Buffy manage to have a happy ever after?
Why no, of course not. Thanks for asking.
After they had dusted the last vamp, Moron Spike said, "good work, Slayer," handed her over to her father and then JUST WALKED THE FREAK AWAY!
And in two weeks? She hadn't heard a word. She was beyond miserable and pissed at herself for getting so bent out of shape about SPIKE of all... things that it just made her that much more damage bound. How DARE he ignore what she knew damn well he had felt too! He owed her anyway, for helping with those lame gang vamps. The stupid jerk hadn't even thanked her, just sauntered away with his buns looking majorally grab-able in those wicked hot leather pants. Probably went to go blow the 'crapper' up so he could maintain his little story for his little groupies that went to see him night after night.
Not fair.
Now her dad was in on the "big" secret, and that was all kinds of good. They were working up to a time to tell her mom, but Buffy was just thankful for one parental support unit. Sherry was driving her nuts with phone calls and questions, but in a good way, and she really missed Blair, who had been the only one to keep her sane these past two weeks.
Her dad had wanted to tell her mom right away, but Buffy talked him out of it. Shockingly, he agreed, and it was just nice to to see how proud he was of her; over something besides pelvic grinding with sexy vamps on stage anyway. But no one had been hurt that night and because it happened behind the stage, the patrons were none the wiser, leaving Buffy to believe that people in LA were just as stupid as they were in Sunnydale.
Because Buffy knew if she told her mom about the whole Slayer gig, she would have to tell her about the battle which would lead to Hank taking Buffy to a club in the first place and Hank was more than happy to dodge that bullet, not eager to experience the ex-wife issued anticipated lectures of parental irresponsibility.
Not to mention that Spike was not a name she wanted brought up in Sunnydale. Buffy knew Giles would have cow-age of massive proportions if he knew Buffy not only had not staked Spike, but assisted him in battle to defend his title as the Master of Los Angeles. And how could she tell her friends that she did some major dirty dancing with her mortal enemy on a stage in front of her dad and however many people?
"Earth to Buffy, come in Buffy," Xander called, frowning at the once again distracted Buffster.
Buffy shot her head up from her intent focus of destroying what the school cafeteria decided to pass as food that day. "Sorry, Xan, was I being Space Case Buffy again?"
"Well maybe a little," Willow replied. "What with the mutterings and dark looks, plus you with the stabbage of the lunchy goodness. It kinda makes you wonder."
Buffy flashed them an apologetic smile, something she had been doing quite frequently lately. "Sorry guys. I guess things are just kinda getting to me lately."
"Not getting your smoochies from Angel?" Willow asked sympathetically, thinking she had a clue as to what was troubling her friend.
Buffy worked hard to smother her panic face. "Uh, maybe something like that." Poor Angel. She'd been all avoidy girl and Angel was starting to get suspicious that something was up and had taken to following her around. His bleak face was starting to get on her last nerve.
"Ah yes, the old sexual frustration. Know it well," Xander announced, settling in his chair and tipping it back on two legs. Realizing what he had revealed, Xander hurried to amend his statement; causing the other two girls to brush away his lame attempts at regaining his studly status. Or lack thereof.
The bell that signaled the return to hell rang, and the threesome got up with a synchronized groan.
"Hey, we Bronzing it tonight, or what?" Xander asked.
"I think Bronzing goodness is just what Buffy needs," Willow announced, linking arms with her friend. "I hear there is a new band playing tonight too. Think Angel will want to go?"
Buffy barely managed to refrain from saying "I hope not," saving herself by giving a vague answer. She missed the worried look that Xander and Willow shared over her head, as she was once again lost in Buffy-land.
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