A/N: The song playing in the Bronze is "Fistfuls of Sand" by Five Iron Frenzy.

Chapter 5: The Date

Buffy barged into Spike’s crypt to find him sprawled on top of a sarcophagus, one arm tucked behind his head as a pillow. “Slayer,” he said, greeting her without even looking up to see who it was.

“How’d you know it was me?”

Spike sat up and looked at her. “I could smell you.”

Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Eww.”

“That, and I don’t get many visitors.” He swung his legs off the sarcophagus and stood up as she approached him. “Aren’t you supposed to say trick-or-treat or something when you show up at a bloke’s door?”

“Halloween was yesterday, Spike.”

He sucked on his teeth and ran one hand through his hair. Even on a stone slab, you could still get bedhead. “So it was. Slept through it myself, like any self-respecting demon. How was your night?”

“Quiet.”

“Good, then.” He paused. “Got any leftover –”

Buffy reached into her pocket and tossed him a couple of Snickers bars before he could even finish the thought. Spike’s eyes lit up at the candy. She’d come prepared, figuring bribery was the best way to handle this interaction. “Spike, I need you to patrol for me tonight.”

“You mind if I ask why?”

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah, actually, I do.”

He made a face at her defensiveness. “Well, you’re the one who wants me to do your job, pet, so why don’t you tell me where you’ll be?” He reached into his pocket for his pack of smokes and stuck one in his mouth.

“I have a date.”

Spike snatched the unlit cigarette from his mouth, shocked. “A date?” He almost choked on the question. God, she sure ran hot and cold sometimes. He hadn’t exactly been getting his hopes up, but he had to admit, that night at her house… well, he’d gotten the impression that with some gentle prodding, she’d want to be a little more than friends.

Well, wasn’t he the fool.

Buffy shifted impatiently. Why did this have to be so awkward? They were friends, right? But even still, she knew that the knife’s edge on which their relationship so delicately balanced was always in danger of slipping and slicing either one of them to pieces. “Yes,” she said, her anxiety coming through in her voice sounding like annoyance. “Spike, can you do it or not?”

“Well, hold on a minute, now, let me check my schedule.” He lit the cigarette and took a puff.

“Spike!”

“Yeah, yeah. I can patrol.” He tried to hide his expression, full of jealousy and disappointment, but Buffy saw anyway and she couldn’t help but find it kind of sweet. Before she really had a chance to think about it, she came over to him and kissed him on the cheek, softly saying, “Thank you.”

Spike felt her warmth run through his body, the spot on his cheek still tingling where her lips had touched. He knew it was foolish to feel that way, he knew he was setting himself up to get hurt, when not moments before she’d so casually dashed his hopes without even realizing it. But if this was his reward, he’d do a million favors for her.

“Yeah,” he said gruffly, so that his voice wouldn’t tremble and reveal how much that one tiny gesture had affected him. He ducked his head, focusing on his scuffed Doc Martens, rubbing at a spot on the floor with the toe of one shoe.

With a hesitant nod, Buffy accepted that as her cue to leave. Mindful of the precariousness of the moment, she was more than ready to escape the tension. But at the door, she turned to look at him again. “Oh, and Spike? This time, don’t take my sister with you, ’kay?”

*****

Up from the sands of the mighty Sahara comes
Our hero bold, who so it's told
Is a lot like you and me
His passion burns, the world it turns
He fills his hand to fill the void
And fuels the constant feeling
Of nothingness inside his soul

Buffy moved her hips, bouncing and swaying as the ska song melted into an Arabian beat, then shifted to hard rock, and back to ska again. She let the music wash over her, losing herself in the rhythm and the freedom of the dance. With no thoughts but sound and movement, she could forget everything else that was wrong with her life. It was almost as good a release as slaying, and she realized she’d missed it. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt simple. She felt beautiful.

Feels like nothing ever did
Kills like nothing ever could
Dark and jaded world I hated
Everything I left behind
I don't need you and I don't want you
World that left me blind

She could tell that her date wasn’t much of a dancer, but Jacob was trying his best, and she found it endearing. She grabbed his hands and twirled under his arms, smiling broadly as her eyes met his. The band ended the song with a flourish and the Bronze crowd cheered. Jacob snaked his arms around Buffy’s waist and pulled her closer, and she collapsed into him, laughing heartily, her face flushed with exertion. She hadn’t had this much fun in a long time.

Jacob made a motion toward their table and she nodded, ready for a break. “The band’s great!” she yelled over the music, as they started into their next song.

He nodded, leading her back to their table near the stairs. Orange and black streamers were draped over the railing, left over from last night’s Halloween bash, along with assorted carved pumpkins, plastic skulls, and other decorations scattered around the Bronze. Jacob pushed a fake cobweb – complete with a rubber spider in the middle – out of Buffy’s way.

Once they reached their little alcove, where the music wasn’t so loud and conversation was again possible, Jacob said, “So, Willow said you used to go to UC Sunnydale.”

“Yeah, but then my mom died last year and I had to drop out,” Buffy replied, taking a seat. She could see the sympathy starting to well up and so she hurried on. “I’m gonna go back though. I want to go back. But somebody’s gotta pay the bills, and Dawn insists it’s not going to be her, so…”

“Yeah.” Jacob didn’t start with the I’m so sorry or the that must be so hard for you, for which Buffy was incredibly grateful. “Can I get you another drink?” he asked her.

“Sure, thanks.”

“Just a Coke?”

“Diet, please.” She fiddled with the empty glass on the table in front of her as she watched him walk towards the bar. This would probably be easier with a little rum in her Coke, but she’d promised Xander that she would stop drinking.

Suddenly, an annoyingly familiar accented voice startled her from behind. “Nice moves, love, but that fellow could barely keep up with you.”

Buffy turned, not at all happy to see him. “Spike!” she said, through gritted teeth. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be patrolling!”

Spike leaned on the back of her chair. “I am.” He pointed to a guy out on the dance floor, grinding his hips against a petite brunette. “See that bloke? Vampire.”

“So why aren’t you staking him?”

Spike shot her an annoyed look. “Well, first of all, I might make a bit of a scene if I do it in here. And second, I’m not gonna go around staking people for no reason. I’m waiting for him to make a move.” When Buffy looked at him skeptically, he added, “Don’t worry, I got my eye on him.”

The sight of Jacob approaching the table with fresh drinks caught her eye. “Spike…” she warned, now really wishing she’d asked Jacob for something stronger than soda.

“Yeah, yeah.” He had noticed the returning date as well. “Don’t worry. Not going to intrude on your date. I’ll make myself scarce.” And to her surprise, he did, disappearing from her side as Jacob reached the table.

Jacob watched Spike’s back as he receded into the crowd. “Who’s the Billy Idol wannabe?”

“Actually, Billy Idol stole his look from… never mind.” Buffy stopped herself from explaining something that would need a lot more explaining. “That’s, uh…” She hesitated. What kind of a name was Spike? “A friend.”

“Somebody should tell him Halloween’s over.” Buffy giggled in spite of herself. “Seriously, though,” Jacob said, taking a sip of his beer, “I’d like to meet your friends sometime. Willow talks about you guys all the time, I feel like I know everyone.”

“Oh, you probably know less than you think…” Buffy muttered.

“Still, I think it’d be fun to meet them –”

Spike suddenly reappeared from under the stairs. “…Eventually,” Jacob finished.

“You must be Buffy’s big date, yeah?” said Spike, as Buffy cursed both vampire speed and hearing. “Pleased as punch to meet you.” He dropped a plastic skull on the table and stuck out his hand. “The name’s Spike.”

“Spike?” Jacob shook his hand. “That’s, uh, an interesting name. I’m Jacob Kessler.”

Buffy wracked her brain to think of a way to get rid of the vampire, raising her eyebrows in surprise as she realized Spike was asking Jacob about himself, and actually engaging in pleasant conversation.

While the boy talked about his major – history, which was mildly interesting to someone who’d lived through a good chunk of it – Spike lit up a cigarette. After taking a puff, he remembered that might be considered rude in certain human circles. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked.

“You know, those things’ll kill you,” said Jacob.

Spike exhaled and stuck his tongue between his teeth. “Don’t think so, mate. Frankly, I’m more worried about the Slayer here” – he nudged Buffy with his elbow – “killing me than these things.”

Buffy shot Spike an icy glare.

“Slayer?” Jacob asked.

Spike’s eyes widened as he realized his mistake. “Uh, nickname for the old Buffster,” he said quickly. “Long story, you wouldn’t be interested,” he added in a more mumbled tone.

Buffy gave Spike a look that required absolutely no interpretation. He’d clearly worn out his welcome. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I can see my mate is leaving” – he gestured to the vampire he’d shown Buffy earlier, escorting his dance partner towards the door – “so I’ll just leave you two lovebirds alone. Pleasure meeting you there, Jacob.” And with that, he dashed off, leaving Buffy to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Interesting guy,” said Jacob.

Buffy scrunched up her nose. “If you like that sort of thing.” She poked at the skull Spike had left. Jacob’s puzzled look made her realize that she was trying to appear as if she didn’t like that sort of thing. What was she trying to hide? It was just Spike, right?

*****

When Jacob’s car pulled up in front of her house, dropping her off at the end of the night, Buffy’s stomach began to flutter with the usual “will he kiss me?” nerves. She turned to her date as he shut off the car. “Can I walk you to your door?” he asked, a nervous half-smile on his face. Buffy grinned and nodded, getting out of the car and taking Jacob’s outstretched hand as they headed toward her front door.

“I had a really good time tonight,” she said, lingering on the porch and giving their intertwined fingers a soft squeeze. “Best time I’ve had in awhile.”

“I’m glad. I had a good time, too.” He smiled at her and leaned in, moving his face toward hers. Buffy closed her eyes in anticipation.

But she never got her kiss. A growling from her front yard caused her to jerk her head away from Jacob and towards the pack of demons heading her way.