full 3/4 1/2   skin light dark       
 
 
Chapter 2
 
<<     >>
 
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the series and all characters belonging to both television shows are not of my creation. I poke fun of them for my own amusement, and the amusement of friends on line. I make no profit for what I write, which sucks since it’s what I spend most of my time doing.

Author’s Notes: This chapter takes place during ATS season 5’s ‘The Girl in Question’. Much thanks to my beta, slaymesoftly, and all my wonderful readers and reviewers who are going to hang me for this chapter.

**********************************************************************


Flashing lights and music that made it feel like your heart was pumping at a rhythm to match the bass. It was just like any other club, all over the world. Only this time, it was in Rome

Buffy was on the arm of the Immortal, and he was escorting her to some of the finest places in the city. It was fun, but it just didn’t feel like her.

Sometimes, it was easy to forget whom she was with. He was perfect and polite, which, to her, made him fade in the background. She could dance all by her lonesome, even while he was moving gracefully right beside her. There was no awkwardness to his movements, and he always made things seem like a fairy tale.

Then, the feeling hit, and her partner faded into the background even more.

He was there.

The tinglies that warned of the presence of a vampire raced up the back of her neck at the same moment the warmth of his presence seemed to surround her. She could feel him.

She spun around, suddenly desperate to get a glimpse. All she could see were pressing and writhing bodies, sweating and yearning. They blocked her view of everything. But, that didn’t really matter. She knew he couldn’t be there. Buffy had long since stopped getting hopeful. When they had been in England, she had always caught a glimpse of something, or heard an accent that made her heart leap for joy, only to have it plummet in the dirt.

“Something wrong?” Her date’s gentle touch against her back nearly made her shiver.

Buffy turned to face him, then smiled. It took some effort to shrug it off. “No, nothing wrong at all.” She practically dived back into the dancing crowd to prove her words. Her body moved gracefully amidst the others surrounding her. She could barely see the Immortal, though he was always watching her.

For a moment, Buffy could imagine someone else was watching her, too.

His presence still made her body tingle. Her heart swelled with the thought that he was watching, at that moment, somehow standing there with her. A memory of their last night together surfaced in her mind, and she could hear Spike’s voice… ‘Dance for me…’

Closing her eyes, she let her body sway and arch. She twirled and stepped easily through the crowd, instinctually knowing where each person was, even as they all faded away. She was dancing only for one, and nothing else mattered.

A hand on her arm stopped her joyful dance. She spun around to see the Immortal towering over her, and scolded herself when her heart fell. Buffy smiled brightly for him.
“What’s up? Not dancing anymore?”

He gave a patient smile. “It’s time to take our leave, cara…” He cast his glance over her head.

It was only then that Buffy could hear the faint sound of a scuffle at the far end of the club. The scuffle was turning into a full-out fight. “Anyone you know?” She asked him.

“Someone who knows me.” He wrapped an arm around her casually, and led her towards the other door.

The brief thought that Spike would enjoy watching or jumping into the fight flashed through her mind. Buffy grinned, imagining that Spike had been watching both her dance, and the fight itself. The mental image of him sitting up in the rafters with a bowl of popcorn made her giggle. When the Immortal looked down at her with an arched brow, she gave a sheepish smile and shrugged.

***********************************************************************


Andrew and the poof were arguing. Looking at the two, Spike wasn’t sure which one was more of a poof.

All he knew was that he was standing in Buffy’s apartment. It was the third time they had visited that night. He and Angel had been sure the Slayer was under some sort of spell. It was the only way she could be associating with The Immortal…right?

Sighing, he let the other two have it out. He had no interest in being part of the argument anymore. He hadn’t said a thing since they’d gotten there. He was too busy taking it in.

Buffy’s apartment…her scent and Dawn’s were everywhere. It felt like being back at their home in Sunnydale. The ache in his chest couldn’t be banished, so he let himself wander around the living room. He wanted to go into Buffy’s room, but he didn’t dare…If the Immortal’s scent was there too, and he had to smell what they’d been up to…

He blanched at the thought. He looked back over at Angel, who was sitting on the couch, a hand over his face.

“Uh, Spike, is Angel crying?” Andrew suddenly asked him.

“No!” Spike immediately stood up for his Grandsire. “…not yet.”

“May want to hold off the waterworks, big guy.” Andrew said. “The Immortal’s cool and all, but he ain't all that. He's got his flaws.”

“Really?” Angel asked.

Spike didn’t want to hear it. He turned away from them again, his eyes drawn to a shelf close to the television. There were pictures everywhere…frames and small albums out where anyone could see them. He smiled softly at the sight of his girls…most of the pictures were of Buffy and Dawn, only some of them with the Scoobies.

“The point is, she’s moving on,” He heard Andrew say. “You guys do the same, and you might catch her one day. One of you, anyway. But you keep running in place, you're gonna find she's long gone.”

“It is a bit silly…” Spike spotted an album made of black leather and silver, and discretely swiped it. He shoved it into his coat, hiding it from view. “Us... chasin' around like a couple of henpecked teenagers.”


“Buffy loves both of you, but she’s got to live her life. People change…”

The two vampires left reluctantly, trudging down the dark streets of Rome. Spike was unusually silent, his head bowed. His hand was almost constantly reaching into his duster, his fingertips gently brushing against the soft black leather of the album, holding what he was sure would be the only reminders of his Slayer and the Nibblit. He knew he shouldn’t have swiped it, but he just couldn’t bear leaving without something of them to hold on to…



 
<<     >>