One Step Away

with many thanks to the wonderful folks of EF many of whom helped in myriad ways getting this from idea to published story

Temptation

Spike found himself... fascinated. Entranced.

He was supposed to be here to draw the Slayer out, to recce her fighting style and ability, but now he was watching her, he was loath to interrupt. He wanted to join in, to sidle up behind her and slide his hands around her waist, down to her hips, pull her back against his body...

So young, so luscious; it almost seemed a shame he was going to kill her.

Angelus was the one who actually preferred his victims all innocent and untouched, the git, but Spike was far from immune. He couldn't deny there was something downright alluring about her, something she'd likely lose if he let her live long enough. She moved as if she were dancing on the cusp of womanhood, innocence and sensuality irresistibly combined.

He'd planned to get her outside, watch her fight, sacrifice a minion or two to suss out her skills, but instead he found himself moving closer, onto the dance floor, drawn in. She was quicksilver bathed in light, a finely tuned weapon; sharp and bright as a sword, but much more dangerous.

He saw when her Slayer senses picked up his presence, but she didn't even look worried, much less stop dancing. Her eyes closed and she smiled, a secret, satisfied kind of smile, as if she knew something no one else knew. Which... she indubitably did, but Spike didn't think that was the expression of a girl wrestling with the reality of being the Chosen One.

It was as if knowing there was a vampire nearby watching her was a comfort, even... a turn on? He filed the thought away to puzzle out later. Too young and happy to have a conscious death wish, surely, but there was something unusual here, if she could feel him so close at hand and remain blithely unconcerned.

He gave in to the moment of weakness, made his way through the mêlée; not dancing, just moving with the music and the crowd, prowling around until he was right behind her little gang.

(And what was that about? A Slayer with friends was... unexpected. He'd wondered at it, thought he'd been mistaken, but now he was almost among them, he could tell they were here together, could scent them on one another. The closeness and familiarity between them was too strong for casual acquaintances. Strange.)

She was dancing with them, but was also unmistakably by herself, apart, in her own world; even as the boy grabbed her hand, there was a subtle push and pull to it. She was there but not there, not readily tugged back into their mundanity.

And she shone.

She glanced up, as if she sensed someone's eyes on her, and caught Spike ogling. For a second she stilled completely. He watched as she assessed him, assessed the way he was looking at her. She bit her lip, her eyes widened, and he could hear her heart racing, sense the blood rushing to her face.

Interest, self-consciousness, maybe even arousal?

He smiled, slow and wicked, let himself smoulder at her momentarily. She turned away, embarrassed, shrugged a shoulder as if dismissing him. If he were a man, he would skulk away, ashamed and abashed, but he wasn't. She couldn't hide from him that there was a flicker there. She was not the ice queen she was trying to play. Something in her had, however briefly or unwillingly, sensed something in him she wanted.

Spike grinned and let the music ease him up behind her. He could tell when she realised he hadn't been so easily brushed off; he half expected her to turn and hit him, but after the slightest hesitation, she continued to dance, and didn't even flinch when he brought his hands up to rest lightly on her waist. He chuckled. Not easily cowed, this lass.

"Hey, baby."

She tilted her head up at him and cocked an eyebrow, looking amused.

He frowned. Okay, so maybe his opening line was a bit dated, but there was no need to be rude. "Laughin' at me?"

She shrugged again.

He'd planned to get a whiff of her blood, make her blush again, tease her and threaten her and disappear, in more or less that order - there was still time to get her into a fight - but he never could resist a challenge.

Now he wanted to make her melt.

He shifted in closer, let his hands caress her hips, insinuating himself as if he had every right to invade her space. She rolled her eyes and made a vaguely disparaging noise, affecting haughty indifference to his presence as she turned her head away and gave in to the insistent pulse of the music, but he could sense more than she knew, could feel her softening and letting him move against her, with her, until they were swaying as one.

She was clearly used to attention, but that didn't mean she was immune to it, and Spike was not a stripling boy who didn't know what to do with a woman. He knew the dance well, knew how to sneak in under her defences and coax her out of her scepticism. Maybe it was risky, but he reasoned it away as getting a fuller picture of his next Slayer, his next battle, his next victory or his final doom. This was still reconnaissance. It just smelled better than usual.

... oh, the scent of her. He'd never forgotten what it was like, the call of the Slayer's blood; it wasn't a thing so easily put from his mind, but even for a vampire, the memory dimmed with time. The power of it, the way it made his whole body sing, made him want to sink his fangs into her throat here and now, and who cared if she had a stake hidden somewhere to dust him with as he drank?

It was painfully tempting, but he pressed his face into her hair instead, fighting back the urge to do something incredibly bloody foolish. She mewled despite herself as he took huge gulps of Slayer flavoured air, and he suppressed a laugh at the way it made her dissolve just a little bit more. Not so used to this kind of appreciation, he'd wager. He grinned even as he continued to breathe her in, filling his nose and mouth and lungs with her and letting out a soft groan of his own.

Patience, he counselled the demon. Anticipation was beautiful. It'd be all the sweeter when he killed her, knowing he'd been so close, had made her shudder with something besides fear. Oh, he could wrap himself up in this one... It nearly made him regret what he had planned; it was too bad he couldn't keep her.

At the edge of his vision, he could see the kids she'd been dancing with notice she had attracted someone's attention, realise she was no longer dancing with them so much as near them, was no longer even pretending to be part of their world.

Red obviously knew the Slayer could handle herself. The glare she turned on him was disapproving but not concerned.

The boy... well, Spike didn't need to look, could smell the anger, hear the pounding heart. The barely reined in hostility and possessiveness, as if a piddling little whelp like that could ever possess a Slayer, even one barely out of pigtails.

Spike had to give due credit for impeccable taste, though. A man's reach should exceed his grasp, even if the poor dolt hadn't a clue how far he was reaching, hadn't figured out he was trying to bridle sunlight. When Spike deigned to glance up, he saw the boy glowering. Or at least it would be a glower on a man. It looked more like a sulk on this lad.

In your dreams, boy. Try again in a century.

Spike grinned and pulled the Slayer in tight against his chest, no longer content to barely touch her. He wound his arms around her waist, staking a claim, giving the little upstart something to get pissed off at. It was a stupid thing to do... and he couldn't seem to stop himself.

Don't you worry, lad, she'll be mine soon enough. Then the sad-sack could spend his puppy love on someone he might be able to catch. Spike would have this prize for himself.

God, she was glorious.

Who was he kidding? The boy's anger was thoroughly enjoyable, but he'd take any excuse to touch.

She stiffened as his hands moved hungrily over her, though she didn't push him away like he'd expected. She let out a whimper, half alarm, half reluctant enjoyment.

If his nose didn't lie (and it never did), Red would be more than happy to comfort the boy through their inevitable loss. He had a suspicion she was no pushover - he felt power there - and maybe she'd turn out to be less easily caught than she appeared, but it still wasn't nearly as absurd as the thought of matching that callow youth with Spike's Slayer.

In the meantime, though, he had more important things to concentrate on, his own agenda to consider. The woman in his arms, all soft and warm... it would be easy to lose himself in her, and he needed to get a grip. "What's your name, love?" he murmured in her ear, his lips close enough to all but brush against her skin, his breath raising goosebumps on her neck.

"Buffy." Her voice was husky, underlaid with uncertainty. She didn't entirely want to be part of this, but she was unwilling to draw away. The dichotomy was delicious.

He laughed. Buffy? It suited the image she no doubt projected to most of the humans around her - blonde, bubbly, probably a cheerleader - but for a Slayer? Ridiculous.

She turned enough to glare at him, her bottom lip a tempting pout. He was going to drain her dry, but maybe he'd taste that lip first.

Not now. He could sense her strength, too, and was already dangerously close to giving himself away. (How was it the bint hadn't figured it out yet? He knew she'd felt him, he'd seen it, but she'd not made the connection. What was she, so pally with vamps she didn't heed the warning? This used to being followed, watched? He couldn't imagine.)

No, if anyone was going to play dirty in their dance, if anyone was going to have an unfair advantage, he'd make sure it was him. His reasons for being in Sunnydale were too important to let her stake him while he was busy being distracted by her body. If she realised, if he gave in and slipped his hands under her top, his cold fingers caressing her warm, tempting flesh, whatever had blinded her would topple and she'd be on him like a shot, he was sure. He'd have to play it carefully, make certain she was well off balance here before he let her know he was her enemy.

(Momentary fantasies aside, he also had no desire to be dusted on this dance floor before he'd had the chance to fight her proper like.)

He could tell she was good; he'd need all his wits about him to make her his third. God, though, it'd be spectacular. He knew that already. Even just dancing, everything about her screamed danger and death, sent his vampiric instincts absolutely wild. She would be a fine trophy, was going to give him a run for his money, and he was hard just thinking about it.

He couldn't resist grinding into her pert little backside, demonstrating the effect she was having on him, laughing again when she gasped. Oh, I'm a bad, bad man, baby. You better be scared. He was pressing his luck - she was on the verge of kicking him in the nuts. The uncertainty of this game was starting to outweigh the fun for her as playful gave way to predatory. He was reluctant to let go of the moment, but his very reluctance told him he must before he made a misstep and became prey himself.

He drew in one more deep lungful of her scent, hunter and quarry in equal measure, and grinned when her breath stuttered.

"Mmmm, Slayer," he rumbled, finally letting his lips graze her neck as he pinned her arms to her sides.

She went from cautiously flirtatious to tense and ready for action in a mere fraction of a second, and he laughed as he tightened his hold on her. "Don't want to give yourself away do you, love? Not the place for it." The threat in his tone was not subtle. "Never know who might get hurt..."

Fear in her scent, but also sex and fury. She was a fiery one, he had to give her that. She'd be a pleasure to fight, no doubt; she was going to be a genuine challenge, and it'd been way too long. Too long since his Nikki had pinned him, had almost taken him.

A challenge. A thrill. A beautiful, wild, dangerous girl. He was fair humming with the promise of it.

He ran a hand down her arm and gripped her wrist just tight enough to let her know he was no fledge, that he was a worthy opponent to her just as she'd be one to him. He wasn't about to let her twist his head off like he'd risen five minutes ago.

She swallowed, loudly. "Who are you?"

"You'll find out on Saturday."

"What happens on Saturday?" Even mixed up with terror and lingering desire, her voice was firm and strong now, determined.

Good girl. He nuzzled against her skin so she'd feel it as he smiled slow and wicked, then licked up to her ear, chuckled at her squeak of disgust and protest. He let his voice drop to a sultry whisper, so even her Slayer-sensitive ears would have to strain to hear over the music. "I kill you."

Her moment of shock at his candour was enough for him to push her at her companions, to leave her flustered and flailing as he slipped away. He heard the commotion behind him, but he was fast and he was smart and he had no one here he needed to protect. By the time she was outside, she had to rescue another damsel from a disposable minion.

Bugger was big and strong, but she was quick and crafty, flinging the girl to safety before he even knew he was under attack; he barely had time to yell Spike's name in fear. Spike watched from the shadows as she stood in the falling dust and looked around her, her face still tense and angry, every line of her body spoiling for a fight.

She stayed there far longer than he'd expected, more patient in pursuit than he would've tagged her for. She'd seemed calm before, blasé about sensing a vampire watching her out on the dance floor. Now she was taut as a bowstring and utterly alert. Definitely a story there, though the most important thing was that he'd be wise not to underestimate her.

Eventually her shoulders slumped. She threw her stake hard enough at the wall to turn it into splinters, then turned abruptly and strode back into the club, frustration coming off her in waves.

Spike grinned. Yeah, she was a feisty chit of a thing.

This was going to be fun.

The eagle-eyed will spot that Spike references a famous line from Andrea del Sarto by Robert Browning: "Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,/Or what's a heaven for?"

This story will likely just span the events of School Hard, but there may be some followup within this AU. Watch this space!