A/N This is my first story I have written so please point out any spelling, grammatical, etc issues that you notice. Enjoy.
The exterior of the club located on the edge of civilized Sunnydale was nothing spectacular, a repurposed warehouse with a black sign declaring the name in white letters.
"The Bronze." a platinum blonde haired man murmured aloud as he took in the scene before him.
There was a queue made up of a dozen or so teenagers, watched by the large, bald man who served as the bouncer. Most of the teens hung on to one another, excitement crackling between them. The energy was mirrored in their heartbeats, blood racing through their veins.
The blonde man could sense the blood, it was intoxicating like the scent of too many open liquor bottles. His attention was broken as a soft growl sounded behind him, a shadow moving to step past him and towards the club. His hand shot out from its leather sleeve, capturing the passing man by the upper arm.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked warningly, a scarred brow raising.
The other man jerked himself free, "I don't take orders from you Spike." he said the other man's name contemptuously.
Spike smirked at the other vampire. Ever since he had arrived at the Hellmouth all he had encountered were these poncy type vamps. Most were too young to even recognize himself, a leather clad legend.
"The Slayer is in there and I am going to kill her." the vampire snarled at Spike, looking down at the shorter man.
"This is why the Anointed brat is allowing me to kill the Slayer, you have no sense of style." Spike said as he rolled his eyes, "Tonight is just to study her, figure out what makes her tick."
The other vampire's brow furrowed in confusion, "Human's don't tick." he said.
Spike rubbed his knuckles against his forehead in frustration, "Morons, the lot of ya." he growled, "Just leave the smart stuff to me ugly."
Stepping out into the light given off by the street lamps, Spike made his way confidently to The Bronze entrance, not bothering to get in line. The other vampire rush to catch up, stumbling over his own feet in haste.
Approaching the bouncer, the blonde put on a charming smile, "Evening. How many quid to enter?"
The bouncer crossed his arms as he surveyed the two men before him. The blonde was clad in an oversized leather coat which obscured his physique. Looking over his leather clad shoulder, he could just make out the other man, cowering behind the blonde.
Blinking, the bouncer said gruffly, "The hell's a quid?"
Spike laughed and addressed the man behind him, "I love it here, only place the food can give you a right old laugh." returning his attention to the bald man, he continued, "Meant dollars, mate."
The bouncer was still looking at the two suspiciously, "Five each." he eventually relented. If the two caused problems inside, he would simply throw them out. They would have already paid so it did not matter much how long they stayed.
Spike reached into his jean's pocket, pulling out a crumpled ten dollar bill. The thrown back flaps of his jacket exposing the oversized red shirt underneath.
Handing the money over, he stepped around the bald man, the other vampire still following close behind.
The moment they entered, Spike felt his senses come alive. The heady scent of hormones and blood clouded his head, making him stop short. A large collection of teens were dancing enticingly, and the vampire resisted the urge to show his fangs in excitement.
Blinking flecks of yellow from his normally blue eyes, he turned his attention to the other vampire, seeing he was affected just as badly.
Despite the man's claims about being at the crucifixion, he was clearly a fledgling, not much older than five years judging by his inability to control his need to feed.
"Guard the door." Spike said, stepping further into the room and finding a place to stand near the stairs that led to the second floor.
His nostrils flared, capturing and sorting every scent in the place until he noticed two girls sitting together at one of the small tables that littered the room.
The blonde was stumbling through a French sentence, thoroughly bludgeoning a language Spike had always been fond of.
The red hair next to her maintained her patience, "Try again Buffy." she supplied.
"Buffy." Spike repeated the name quietly, allowing it to bathe his tongue.
"I don't know Will." Buffy responded to her friend, her shoulders slumping in defeat.
Spike moved closer, allowing Buffy's scent to overtake his senses. As she flipped her hair behind her shoulder impatiently, Spike caught a look of her profile.
This is the Slayer then, he thought. It's a right shame, me having to kill her and all, she's
much better than the last two.
Moving sideways to get a better look, he froze when a teen with brown hair approached the lot, all flapping limbs. He asked the girls to dance and the three went to the open space before the stage, the low lighting making their silhouettes smokey.
A half formulated plan began to fester in his brain, something to test her fighting ability.
Approaching the other vampire, who had strayed further into the room, Spike remarked quietly, "Go get something to eat."
The vampire gave a relieved sigh and disappeared out the door, nearly knocking over other patrons in his haste.
Spike returned to watching the Slayer, counting down the ten seconds until he would alert her to the "dangerous" vampire feeding outside.
Ten - Her eyes were closed
Nine - It would only take a moment for him to kill her now
Eight - She was moving slowly, provocatively
Seven - She was trying to live a normal life
Six - He almost felt sorry about ruining all that
Five - No, he did not actually
Four - How would her blood taste?
Three - How would her bones sound as they broke?
Two - Why did she have such a stupid name?
One…
Spike stepped up to a couple directly behind the slayer and said, in a carrying voice, "Where's a phone. I need to call the police. There's some big guy out back trying to bite someone."
The reaction was instantaneous, the Slayer and her entourage tearing out of the club to confront the obvious vampire attack. Spike exited through another door and looped around the side of the building, situating himself by a pile of overflowing trash bags to supervise.
The fight had already begun when he arrived, the Slayer clearly the superior opponent. Her blows were even and unhurried, nearly every one making contact. Her two friends stood back some, along with the girl who must have been the vampire's near victim as she was crying obscenely.
The Slayer yelled to one of her friends, "Get her out of here!"
The girl, Willow, gripped the crying one and the two vanished.
Spike tilted his head curious, wondering why the Slayer had not yet staked the clearly weaker vampire.
His question was answered as the Slayer continued, punches accenting her words, "And… a stake… would be nice!"
As the boy hightailed it back inside the club, Spike bit back a laugh. A Slayer caught without a stake? This might prove to be his easiest kill yet. The boy rushed back out to the fight.
"Buffy!" he yelled and tossed the wooden stake to her.
The vampire in her grip, realizing for the first time that he was outmatched, yelled to the shadowed corner, "Spike, help me."
The blonde ignored the plea for help, his attention completely consumed by the sharp movement of the stake as it plunged through the vampire, an explosion of dust issuing from the point of contact.
The Slayer withdrew the stake and turned to her friends questioningly. Her head whipped back around as a slow clapping issued from the shadows.
As Spike steps forward, he could not help but grin at the confused looks on the teens' faces.
"Nice work, baby." he says, addressing the Slayer cockily.
For the first time that night, he was able to take in her appearance. She was young, younger than the previous two Slayers he had killed. It was evident though, from her reputation, that she was skilled.
What caught him off guard was, of all things, her eyes. They were a curious shade of green, one he had never before encountered. They looked akin to an evergreen tree on a foggy morning.
He twitched slightly, the thought a little too poetic for his taste. Really, when had he become such a poof? Perhaps it had been too long since he had had a good spot of violence. Afterall, his trip to Prague was not what one would call "masculating". No sooner had he and Drusilla arrived that they had been chased off by an angry mob of humans.
"Who are you?" the girl asked and Spike nearly laughed at the innocence of the question, pushing his other thoughts to the back of his mind.
The grin vanished from his face quickly though, replaced by a calculating look, "You'll find out on Saturday." he said.
The Slayer looked uncertain. The man before her, who only a moment ago had been exuding arrogance, was now a predator. Most demons and vampires, when confronting her, acted over the top, trying to impress her with their strength.
This man, he knew precisely what he was capable of. And she was not altogether sure she wanted to know too.
The urge to run flowered in her chest, bringing her breath up short. Even when facing the master, she had never felt the raw danger this man seemed to exude.
Composing herself, she asked, "What happens on Saturday?"
His blue eyes locked on her, no trace of his previous good humor evident on his pale, angular face.
"I kill you." he said softly, the barest of smirks crossing his features.
The Slayer did not move as he stepped back into the alley and vanished, her eyes wide with confusion and the barest sparkle of fear. He had gotten exactly what he wanted and the added bonus of getting Ol' Ugly dusted as well. There was a spring to his step as he made his way back towards the factory where the others were waiting.
"God," he said jubilantly, gripping a lamp post and spinning around it slowly, "I love this town."
Abandoning the post, he continued his trek, his thoughts consumed with tactics for ending the slayer. Yet even as he replayed in his head the battle between the Slayer and the vampire, his mind kept straying to two orbs of luminous green.