The Pursuit of Happiness

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The night before...

The mood at the table was sombre, to say the least. She looked from Willow - heartbroken Willow - to the unhappy couple, Xander and Anya. The pair had spent the day arguing over wedding arrangements and now sat in sullen silence. She sighed. She was still young and this was how she spent her evenings, surrounded by misery. She had enough of her own, after being ripped from her resting place, and this was just too much.

She could still remember the lighthearted feeling she had had whilst being invisible. She had felt free, happy – and almost wild. It had felt good. And it had reminded her that, really, she was in control of her own happiness. If she tried to make herself happy – instead of worrying over things she couldn’t change and trying desperately to retain what she had lost – then she had a good chance of being so. She had friends who loved her, a sister who wanted her to be happy, and a vampire – well, she had a vampire. Who was not all bad.

All she needed was to take action, to take those first baby steps towards making herself happy. First of all, she decided, she needed some fun in her life. Here she was in a club and she wasn’t dancing, wasn’t drinking. That would be the first thing to be rectified. She rose decidedly to her feet and her friends looked up, three sad pairs of eyes fixing on hers.

“I’m going to get a drink. And then I’m going to dance.”

None of them said anything and she turned away, rolling her eyes when her back was to them. It didn’t matter anyway – she wasn’t going to let anyone bring her down.



She made her way to the bar and shoved – only abusing her Slayer strength a little bit –through the crowd to the front. She managed to catch the bartender’s eye and he moved to her, waiting for her order.

“I’ll have a shot of sambuca.”

He gave her a look, almost as if he was going to ask her age, and then shrugged and turned away to prepare her drink. He placed the small shot glass in front of her and she passed over her money as she lifted the glass.

“Bottoms up,” she murmured to herself.

She downed the shot and gave a little cough as it seared its way down her throat. It didn’t seem as strong as whatever it was Spike had plied her with, that one evening in his crypt and, actually, it didn’t taste that bad. She felt the warmth working its way down to her stomach and signalled the bartended for another one. She downed her second shot and looked up as a tall form appeared beside her.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” she said with a smile, eyes flicking over the tall, dark-haired man. He reminded her of Riley a little bit, with that all-American look and the way he towered over her.

“Do you wanna dance?”

“Sure,” she answered, pushing away the memory of Riley and following the stranger onto the dance floor. He turned to her and she started to move to the music, losing herself in the rock song. He danced pretty well and she smiled as they moved in sync, even as he kept a respectful distance. This was just what she needed – a chance to let go, to forget about everything for just a few moments. They didn’t speak and she relished the chance to just dance.



When the next song started up, her partner got a bit braver, moving closer to her and letting one hand rest against her waist. She smiled and continued to dance, loving this chance to feel like a young woman again. They moved together and she couldn’t stop smiling, light-hearted again after her stint of invisibility. And this felt better, in a way, because she wasn’t hiding.

The song came to an end and another, faster, one started up, the sound of the band filling the Bronze. Her partner leaned in close, raising his voice to talk to her.

“There’s a guy at the bar that’s been staring at you for like ten minutes now."

She knew, of course. She had felt his gaze on her from the minute he entered the Bronze.

“Blonde hair, dark clothes?"

"Yeah. You know him?"

"Yeah."

"Boyfriend?"

She finally looked over towards the bar and her eyes locked with Spike's.

“Not exactly."

"But?"

She turned back to her companion with a wry smile.

“Close enough."

"Oh, right," he said, removing his hand from her waist and stepping away.

"Thanks for the dance," she said lamely.

He nodded and gave a worried look over her shoulder before turning and heading in the opposite direction. She smiled, shook her head, and headed for the far end of the bar.



She slid onto the stool next to Spike and hailed the bartender.

“Sambuca.”

The bartender nodded, prepared her drink and handed it to her. She passed over the money, took the glass and downed the shot in one go.

“You're drinking? That explains a lot."

She turned to Spike with a coquettish smile.

"Does it?"

"Explains why you're sat here with me and not over there with Grumpy, Whingey and Whiney."

She turned to look at her friends and turned back with a laugh.

"I won't ask which one's which."

Spike raised an eyebrow and downed the remnants of his own drink.

"So what's the game today, Slayer?"

She shrugged, giving him a half smile.

"Just felt like having some fun for once."

"With Tall, Dark and Whitebread?" Spike asked with a smirk.

"He wasn't so bad."

And this time last year, he would have been exactly her type.

"Seems like your type," Spike commented, as if he had read her thoughts.

"Types change," she said, meeting his gaze squarely.

"Do they? What do you go for now then?" he challenged.

“Fishing much?” she laughed, before answering his question, “I've got a thing for lean, mean and blonde it seems."

His surprise at her openness showed and she turned away, hailing the bartender again.

"Same again."

"Make that two."

The bartender placed a shot in front of both of them and she went to pay him but Spike touched her arm, halting her as he placed the cash down on the bar himself. The bartender disappeared again and she raised her glass to her companion in a mock toast. He clinked his glass against hers and they downed their shots simultaneously.



She placed her glass down on the bar and swivelled on the stool to face Spike.

"Dance with me?" she asked, resting a hand on his leg.

He looked at her hand for a moment and then raised his eyes to hers.

"I don't dance."

"I don't believe you," she said with a smile.

"I don't dance," he repeated, smiling back.

"Not even for me?" she asked with a coy smile, rising to her feet and moving her hand from his leg to his arm. He regarded her for a long moment, and then gave a sigh.

"Bloody hell."

She laughed and tugged him to his feet.

"I promise I'll make it good for you," she teased. Spike gave her a smirk and she turned, moving her way through the crowd to the dance floor.



She found a spot in the middle of the dance floor and turned to make sure Spike hadn't chickened out. He was close behind her and she stumbled in her surprise, smiling as he caught her by the arms.

"I thought you might chicken out."

"And miss a chance to make the Whelp's eyes pop out of his little head?"

She laughed and allowed him to spin her so her back was to his front, his hands settling possessively at her waist. His protest seemed completely unfounded as he started to move with her, proving himself more of a dancer than many men she had danced with.

"See? You can dance."

"I didn't say I couldn't. I said I don't," he replied, his breath tickling her hair.

She laughed, light-hearted and lightheaded from the alcohol. She raised her arms, moving her body in time with the beat - and not missing a chance to grind against Spike. His hands squeezed her waist but he said nothing, moving with her so she could feel just how she affected him.

"Knew I could make you enjoy it," she said with a smile.

"You make me enjoy it anymore and we'll be in trouble for public indecency," Spike murmured in her ear, almost the whole length of his body pressed against her.

She laughed and turned, looping her arms around his neck. She spotted her friends over his shoulder and leaned up, her lips close to his ear.

"Well, eyes aren't popping out just yet, but they're pretty close."

Spike laughed, running a hand down her side almost unconsciously.

And she realised then how good it felt to be with him like this, in the open. She was sure she would be interrogated at some point later tonight, or tomorrow, but right now she was on a high. She pulled back and reached for his hand, twining her fingers in his. He raised an eyebrow in question but she just smiled, turning and tugging on his hand to pull him through the crowd behind her.



She wove her way through the crowd, overly conscious of Spike's cool hand in hers. It felt weirdly normal to have his long fingers twined around hers, his cool skin against her warm palms. She reached one of the darker corners of the Bronze and drew to a stop by a large, oversized armchair. A tug on his hand and Spike dropped into the chair. His expression remained carefully veiled as she slid onto his lap but he slid his arm around her waist, holding her close.

"What's this then?" he murmured, raising his free hand to her hair - hesitating when he thought she might pull away, and finally threading his fingers through her hair.

"A change."

She lowered her head, brushing her lips gently over his. He made no move to take control and she touched her fingers to his cheek as she kissed him softly. And God, it felt good to be with him like this – to kiss him without the desperation that usually coloured their exchanges; to relish the feel of his cool arm around her, his fingers in her hair; to relax in his embrace. She pulled away to breathe, her forehead resting against his.

“This must be a dream,” Spike murmured, his fingers twisting aimlessly in her hair.

She lifted her head and brushed her fingers over his neck, drawing his gaze to hers. Whatever she had been about to say froze in her throat at the look of adoration in his eyes. He usually hid it much better than this, afraid of her anger, and it made her heart pound to see it unleashed like this. She lowered her head once more and kissed him, locking her arms around his neck. She could easily get lost in him.



“Buffy?!”

So much for getting lost. She recognised her friend’s voice immediately and pulled, reluctantly, away from Spike. Xander was looking down at them in astonishment, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to speak.

“Uh oh, busted,” she murmured under her breath and she heard Spike chuckle.

“Buffy, you – what – you.”

Apparently flabbergasted, Xander turned and disappeared again and she couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Cat’s out of the bag now,” Spike said carefully and she turned back to him.

“Apparently so.”

“You’re gonna be in trouble.”

“Do you think I’ll get detention?” she asked playfully.

He laughed and she kissed him, unable to resist when he looked so happy, so relaxed. He held her close for several long moments, his hand on the back of her neck, but when she pulled away, he let her go.

“I suppose I’d better go do damage control,” she sighed.

“You could always stay here.”

“Tempting,” she admitted, “But then they’d probably all come over here and pass judgement on Buffy and her shocking ways in the middle of the Bronze.”

“Never heard you speak about them that way before.”

She smiled, running her fingers absentmindedly over his hand.

“Guess I’m just kinda… fed up.”

“I get that.”

“Don’t you always,” she murmured and he tilted his head, watching her in a way that made her stomach flutter. She leaned down and pressed one last quick kiss to his lips, before quickly making her escape, before she gave into temptation. Just as she got free, he caught hold of her wrist, temporarily halting her.

“I’ll see you later.”

She wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement but she nodded and he released her. She smiled and took a deep breath before making her way over to her friends.



The group was in uproar and as she drew closer, she steeled herself – trying to maintain some of the calm that had kept her going across the room. She came to a stop at the table and her friends fell silent, staring at her dumbly.

“I think we should probably talk about this somewhere private, so I’ll see you at my house,” she said as calmly as she could manage.

Before they could answer, she moved on, heading for the door of the Bronze and some much needed fresh air. She was trembling ever so slightly as she finally made it out into the night and she took several deep breaths.

“Go okay?”

She jumped, spinning and almost colliding with Spike.

“You scared me!” she exclaimed, hanging on to him for a moment longer than necessary before letting go.

“Evidence that you shouldn’t be out by yourself.”

“You better walk me home then,” she suggested with a soft smile.

“Suppose I’d better.”

They moved off along the alley together in a companionable silence, walking close together.

“I didn’t actually say much,” she explained as they came out into the street, “Just told them we should talk in private. I’m sure they’ll be rushing back to my house to confront me as we speak.”

“Best slow down then, eh?” Spike commented, demonstrably slowing his stride and making her laugh.

“Probably best to get it over with. Like a bandaid, you know?”

“You really think it’ll be that bad?”

She gave Spike a look and he snorted in derision.

“Idiots.”



They walked along in silence again and she mused upon the strange turn this evening had taken. She was starting to come down from her high a little now – the cool night breeze counteracting the effects of the alcohol – but she was surprised by how good it felt to be freed from a secret she had agonised about revealing. Her friends would be shocked, maybe even a little disappointed, but as she glanced at the vampire beside her, she couldn’t really bring herself to care. Spike deserved better than that. He loved her and all he wanted was to make her happy – and the more she thought about it, what else mattered?

She reached out and took Spike’s hand in hers, smiling as he spun to look at her in surprise. She squeezed his fingers in hers and he gave her an almost blissful smile.



She was surprised at how naturally it came, this closeness, and berated herself for hiding from these feelings for so long. Spike had known, had tried to force her to admit that she cared for him – but she had been stubborn. Now it felt like she was playing catch-up because she was finally allowing him – and herself – the freedom to do a simple thing like hold hands, or dance together, or kiss in public. Their relationship had descended into badness in the blink of an eye, catapulting them from a tentative friendship with the promise of something more lurking in the background to a sexual relationship that fed on hatred and self-loathing. And it could have been this easy all along.



Spike came to a stop, jolting her out of her revelation, and she realised with a start that they had reached her house already. Xander’s car sat ominously out the front and she felt her whole body tense up as she thought of the confrontation she faced. Spike released her hand and turned to face her.

“You sure about this?”

She looked up into his eyes, letting herself bask in his affection for just a few moments before answering with a nod.

“What are you going to tell them?”

“The truth.”

“Even the dirty bits?” he asked with a leer and she laughed, slapping him lightly on the arm.

“You want me to come with you?” he asked seriously.

“So you can reveal all the dirty bits?” she teased.

He smirked and she shook her head.

“I think I better do this by myself. I know what you’re like, you’ll turn yourself into a walking target.”

“Oi!”

She gave him a pointed look and he snorted.

“So the Whelp’s probably gonna want to stake me. Like to see him try.”

She rolled her eyes and laid her hand on his chest.

“This is why I’m doing this alone,” she commented with a soft smile.

“Fair enough,” he conceded.

She took a deep breath, looking at her house. She could see shapes moving in the living room and it filled her with a sense of uneasiness.

“Okay,” she said decisively, “Here goes.”

“Good luck,” Spike said with a half-smile.

She nodded and took another deep breath and he stepped back, ready to depart.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked in a low voice.

He gave her a confused look until she stepped close to him, her hands wrapping around the lapels of his coat as she drew him close.

“We’re being watched,” he murmured, his breath tickling her lips.

“I know.”

She kissed him, pressing herself against him and relishing the feel of him, the taste of him. She pulled back, a little breathless, and raised her eyes to his.

“Just needed to remind myself why this is a good idea,” she said with a smile.

“You should have said, could have given you a proper reminder,” he murmured silkily, “That’s a pretty sturdy tree there, could have -“

She pressed her finger to his lips, silencing him and laughing breathlessly.

“Okay, mister, time for you to go.”

He smiled under her fingers and she moved away reluctantly, brushing herself down awkwardly and taking yet another calming breath. She gave him one last look and with a nod, he turned and moved away. She forced herself into motion, walking up the path, up the steps, opening the door, stepping in.



As she shut the door behind her, the clatter of footsteps on the stairs alerted her to the presence of someone she hadn’t expected.

“Oh my God! Did you just kiss Spike?!!” Dawn squeaked.

Buffy gave a little smile and turned to face her sister.

“Hey Dawnie. I didn’t think you’d be home. How was Janice’s?”

“Oh no, you can’t distract me! I just saw you kiss Spike!”

Buffy threw a glance at the silent trio in the living room and turned her attention back to her sister.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, okay Dawnie?” she said in a low voice.

Dawn gave her a confused look and then looked at her friends with a frown.

“What’s going on?”

When no-one answered, Dawn frowned again and addressed her.

“Are you in trouble?” she asked, “Because of Spike?”

Buffy almost wanted to laugh and she took her sister’s hand, smiling at her warmly.

“Look, Dawnie, why don’t you go to bed and we’ll talk in the morning.”

“Na-uh. I’m staying here. I want to hear what you’re going to say.”

Knowing it was useless to argue anymore, Buffy released her sister’s hand and moved into the living room, dropping into the nearest chair. She waited for the inevitable onslaught and sure enough, Xander spoke up a few seconds later from where he stood across the room.

“You kissed Spike!”

“It doesn’t bode well that you’re freaking out about a little kiss.”

“A little kiss?!” Xander exclaimed, “You were sat on his lap with your tongue down his throat!”

He paused for breath and then continued.

“And what does that mean, it doesn’t bode well?”

Buffy glanced at her sister as she thought of a suitable way to phrase her answer and turned to face her friend once more.

“Let’s just say me and Spike moved way past kissing a while ago.”

Dawn gave a little squeak of excitement but the others were shocked by her response – except for Anya, who smiled a little too knowingly. Xander sank into the nearest chair – and moments later, bolted upright, his eyes wide as they fixed on her.

“Oh my God! Naked exercises!”

She let out a little moan – she had hoped Xander wouldn’t put two and two together so quickly.

“Naked exercises?” Anya repeated with interest.

“You…” Xander got out, looking at her in bewilderment, “And Spike… Spike wasn’t doing exercises. You were there, weren’t you? You and him were…”

“Yes,” she answered simply.

“That must have been fun,” Xander said bitterly, “I bet you just sat there laughing at me, thinking I was stupid because you were invisible and I didn’t know what Spike was doing.”

“I wasn’t laughing at you, Xander.”

He sank back in his chair again, visibly torn between sadness and anger.



“I don’t get what’s so bad about it all,” Dawn said and Buffy turned to smile at her sister, “Spike loves Buffy.”

“Dawnie, it’s not that simple,” Willow replied.

“Actually, it is,” Buffy remarked, drawing the room’s attention back to her, “Spike loves me. He makes me feel good about myself, better than I’ve felt in a really long time. And I like being with him.”

“Do you love him?” Willow asked, surprise colouring her voice.

“I don’t know. I do have feelings for him though.”

There was a long silence and she thought – hoping she wasn’t imagining it – that she could see something like understanding in Willow’s eyes. And Xander had been quiet for several minutes, which was unsettling but maybe not completely a bad sign.

“I don’t really know what’s going to come of it,” she said softly, “But I’d like a chance to find out. And I hope, as my friends, you understand that.”

She rose to her feet, preparing to give them time to think, to process what she had told them.

“And I, I’m sorry you found out this way. I should have told you,” she admitted, “I, err, I may have had a bit too much to drink earlier and things got a little… crazy.”

She smiled crookedly and felt a little better when Willow gave her a tiny smile in return. Xander was still lost in thought and she sighed, knowing he would need a bit longer to come to terms with this.

As she moved to leave the room, he raised his head and his eyes met hers. There was something in his expression that gave her the tiniest hope that, given time, he would be okay with this. She smiled shakily and turned away, giving Dawn a look to let her know it was time for her to go to bed. Dawn smiled widely but turned and preceded Buffy up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, Dawn paused, turning to her.

“I’m really happy for you, Buffy. I know Spike can be good to you.”

“I know, Dawnie,” Buffy said with a smile, drawing her sister into a quick hug, “Now go to bed.”

With another grin, Dawn spun and skipped off into her bedroom. Buffy laughed lightly and went into her own room. She took one look at her bed and with a sigh of exhaustion, collapsed upon it, a small smile spreading across her face.


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...the morning after


Buffy woke feeling somewhat less than human but after about thirty minutes under the hot shower, she began to feel much better. She dressed, meticulous about her appearance in a way she hadn’t been in a while, and smiled to herself in the mirror as she applied a small amount of makeup. By the time she went down to the kitchen to get some breakfast, she was feeling something like herself again and she hummed to herself as she made pancakes.

Dawn stumbled down the stairs, half-asleep, some time later and gave her a strange look.

“Buffy, it’s like seven. Why are you so awake?”

“Oh, I didn’t realise it was that early. Did I wake you?”

“Yes,” Dawn said grumpily, accepting the pancakes her sister gave her, “And it’s a Sunday. It’s not like I have to go to school or anything.”

“Sorry, Dawnie. I’m on a bit of a high.”

“Because of Spike?” Dawn asked with a sly smile.

“Eat your pancakes,” Buffy answered with a laugh, tucking into her own.

“When are you going to go see him?”

“Tonight, I guess.”

“Is that why you’re dressed so nice for seven in the morning?”

Buffy looked down at herself and gave her sister a shy smile.

“I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Uh-huh,” Dawn said, smiling into her food.

“I suppose I could go and see him this morning. It’s not like he can go anywhere in the day.”

“Buffy, just go, will you,” Dawn laughed, “Your high is giving me a headache.”

Buffy laughed and got to her feet, putting her empty plate in the sink and moving to her sister’s side.

“I love you, Dawnie,” she said, brushing a hand over her sister’s long hair.

“Yeah, yeah, go and play smoochies already,” Dawn murmured, unable to keep her smile in check.

Buffy smiled and, giving herself a little shake, turned and left the house.



She made it to Spike’s crypt in no time and pushed open the door quietly, stepping in and shutting the door behind her. There was no sign of Spike upstairs and she went to the hole leading down into the lower area and climbed carefully down the ladder. She rounded the corner and came to a stop, her head tilted to one side as she admired the sight before her. Spike was asleep, sprawled across his bed, the sheets tangled around his legs and just covering his hips. She remembered with a frown the way she had woken him once before – by throwing a candle at him – but shook it off, moving closer to the bed.

“Spike,” she called.

There was no response and she smiled, moving closer again.

“Spike?”

Still nothing from the vampire and she settled carefully on the edge of the bed, reaching out to touch his bare chest. In a flash, he grabbed her hand, his eyes flying open – and just as quickly, he relaxed, his eyes closing sleepily once more.

“Buffy,” he murmured softly, his hands coming to cover hers where it lay on his chest, “I had a bloody amazing dream about you.”

“Oh?”

“I had a dream that you kissed me in front of your friends and then you were going to tell them the truth about us.”

“I think I had the same dream,” she whispered with a smile, “Except you missed the bit where my fourteen-year-old sister was introduced to the idea of invisible sex.”

Spike opened his eyes and blinked at her.

“Invisible sex?” he echoed.

“Yes.”

She laughed and nodded and he smiled, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. He was watching her carefully now from under his eyelashes.

“And what brings you here so early, love?”

She blushed under the heat of his gaze.

“I like the sunshine in the morning?” she suggested with a shrug.

“Liar,” he teased.

“Fine. I wanted to see you. Happy now?”



In a flash, Spike tugged her to him and switched their positions, pinning her to the bed under him.

“Very,” he murmured.

She laughed and touched his face, leaning up to kiss him softly. He groaned and kissed her harder, his body pressed against hers. He pulled away all too soon, resting his forehead against hers.

“This isn’t real,” he whispered.

“Feels real to me,” she replied, running her fingers over her arms.

He let out a shaky breath and raised his head to look at her.

“So how did it go, invisible sex aside?”

“Slightly better than expected.”

“Oh?”

“Well, you’re not dust. And I think I still have friends.”

“Even the Whelp?”

“Xander will be fine. I think.”

He rolled onto his side, drawing her against him.

“So what happens now?”

She looked up at him in question and he smiled, brushing his fingers through her hair and down her arm.

“What do you want from me, Buffy?” he asked seriously, his blue eyes fixing on hers.

“I just want you,” she whispered a little breathlessly, “I want to be with you.”

“I can make you happy, Buffy. Just let me try.”

She nodded and traced her fingers over his jaw.

“That goes both ways,” she said seriously.

He regarded her for several long moments before reaching down and kissing her, gently – almost experimentally – at first, but deepening their kiss when she wrapped her arms around him tightly. She clung to him, losing herself in his embrace as she had several times before and letting herself forget about the world outside, about her duty, about her friends – about everything but the vampire who loved her. The man who wanted to make her happy.

THE END

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Author's note: Hope you enjoyed. It was a chance to get the creative juices flowing in preparation for the many stories that have popped into my head! Watch this space...