After pondering on the complete change in Buffy for far too long, Riley had decided that he needed a drink. A drink and maybe someone to help him makes sense of it all. Someone who had an insider perspective of coming back from the dead, so to speak.

So that night, he found himself weaving through the graveyard where Spike’s crypt stood, heart and head both needing a break from over-thinking. He just couldn’t understand how her mood could have changed so completely – and he still wasn’t entirely sure it hadn’t all been a show of cheerfulness. He wanted someone else’s view of what Buffy was going through and - even though he wouldn’t admit it out loud - he wanted to check up on the vampire. He hadn’t seen Spike in days and that was usually a bad sign.

So he made his way through the dark graveyard and came up to the vampire’s door, not sure what he might find inside. He pushed open the heavy door, stepping through the shadows and into the flickering candlelight that lit the crypt – and came to a surprised halt.

“Buffy?!”

Not for the first time, he had found her in the most unexpected of places: she was perched on a sarcophagus, facing Spike, a tumbler in one hand and a flask in the other. She stopped mid-pour and her head whipped up, her eyes going wide with surprise and a moment later, narrowing in confusion.

“Okay, you sound surprised to see me… which means you were here to see Spike?” she got out, her bewilderment evident in her voice.



She placed down the objects in her hand and frowned some more, her nose crinkling.

“I think I’ve had too much,” she pronounced.

Spike laughed at that, snatching the flask from her and giving it a little shake before taking a sip.

“You’ve had about two mouthfuls.”

“Well, obviously I’m drunk because the hallucinations have started,” Buffy pointed out as the vampire smirked at her, “Riley’s visiting you and that’s normal in what world?”

Spike shrugged and he made a similarly non-committal gesture, taking in Buffy’s playfulness with quiet surprise. Once again, she seemed something like her old self. Except of course for the fact that the old her would never have been sitting here in Spike’s crypt, drinking and laughing with him. The old her wouldn’t even have been here, unless it was to get some information from the vampire.

“Okay, you’re weirding me out. Get to the insulting each other bit already.”

He couldn’t help but smile at Buffy’s confusion and she frowned, looking between them. Spike smirked at her once more and she rolled her eyes, before reaching over and snatching the flask away from him and taking a mouthful. She made a ridiculous little noise and wiped her mouth, her nose crinkling in distaste.

“Thought you said you’d had too much,” Spike pointed out with a smile.

“Drinking through the hallucination,” she murmured with a shrug, “Shouldn’t there be pink elephants or something?”

She let out a sudden hiccup, followed by a girlish giggle and Spike smiled softly – a look Riley had never seen – and removed the flask from her grasp, even as she pouted.



Turning away from the Slayer, Spike faced him, tilting his head.

“What brings you here on this fine evening?”

“Same old. Needed a drink,” he remarked with the briefest of glances at Buffy.

“’Fraid I’m all out now,” Spike commented, slanting a look at the girl beside him with another soft smile.

“Oh my God, you two are drinking buddies. This is beyond weird,” Buffy got out, frowning in confusion still.

“You gonna stop moaning anytime and join us, Slayer?” Spike asked her.

“Drinks with you two?” she questioned, throwing a look between them, “Oh, I’m in for that freak show.”

“Cheers ever so,” Spike mumbled, getting to his feet and rolling his eyes so only Riley could see.

The vampire rounded the sarcophagus and retrieved his coat from a nearby chair as Buffy slid rather inelegantly from her perch. She gave Riley a tiny smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and turned to Spike.

“You’re going to help me figure out that thing though, right?”

“Thing?” Riley couldn’t help but ask curiously, looking between the two.

“Someone’s messing with the Slayer,” Spike explained, shrugging into his jacket.

“Yeah, you remember the exploding something?” Buffy continued wryly, “Turns out that was just the beginning.”

“You need any help?” Riley asked.

“It’s okay, Giles is looking into it. And Spike’s going to, what was it, ‘throw punches’ and ‘find out what’s in the air’,” she explained, giving the vampire a smirk of her own.

“Just a suggestion is all,” the vampire huffed, heading for the door, “We going for a drink or what?”



He was standing at the bar now, buying drinks and still trying to overcome the feeling of weirdness settling over him. He glanced over at the table where Buffy and Spike sat in seemingly companionable silence and turned back to the bar, wondering if maybe he was the one who was hallucinating.

He was just so used to Buffy’s interactions with Spike involving her fists and a few insults. Watching them talk – joke even – and generally get on was a new and unsettling experience for him. Even though his own attitude to Spike had changed, he had never imagined that Buffy’s might, despite all he had heard about the run-up to her encounter with Glory. Surely the memory of the Buffybot alone was enough to make her relations with the vampire just as frosty.

That did not seem to be the case at all though – she treated Spike now exactly as if he was just another Scooby. They had even exchanged a few comments that made no sense to him and it was bewildering to see how well they were getting along. It was also obvious that Buffy had been speaking to Spike about her problems and it was something that gave him an unsettling feeling in his stomach.



He returned to the table and they both looked up, taking the drinks with a thank you and falling back into silence. They all sipped at their drinks for a few minutes of silence and then Buffy pushed hers away, speaking up.

“You know, maybe we should try what you said,” she said, directing her words at Spike, “Banging heads and all that.”

“We will.”

“Can we go now?” she asked, a slight frown creasing her brow.

Spike cast a look at him and then turned back to the Slayer, concern evident in his expression.

“If you want, love. No rush though.”

“You said I shouldn’t sit around and wait for them to figure out what kills me,” she commented, getting quite worked up now – and perhaps the alcohol was helping there too.

“I know but-“

“I’m just sitting here drinking when I should be trying to sort out my life!”

She looked genuinely angry – and maybe a little upset - with herself and she got to her feet a moment later.

“Are you ready?”

Although still evidently surprised, Spike got to his feet, watching her carefully.

“Sorry Riley,” she said, turning to him, “We should go. Low profile and all that.”

She was gone the next moment and Spike gave him a little look that reflected his own surprise.

“I better go.”

The vampire quickly dashed after Buffy and Riley slumped in his chair. Left at an empty table with their half-finished drinks, he felt distinctly slighted.