Present time
Spike woke up, almost panting, it had been a long, long time since the last time he had that dream. The memories of that night always haunted him. Not only because he couldn't off her, but also because he had been quasi-obsessed with wanting to know why she didn't off him. He snatched a cigarette, lit it, and rolled back, staring at the ceiling. She looks different, her style, her hair, her whole attitude. Not that he had any chance to actually bloody analyze her, it all happened so bleeding fast. He knew they had to find her. He wanted to find her, he wanted to know, he needed to know why did she spare him.
He remembered what happened after, how he managed to set himself free from those bloody handcuffs, how he tracked her down. And above all, he remembered his dismay when he found out that she had vanished the following day. Slayer, Watcher and boyfriend, all gone. And he remembered finding her, again, eight months later in New York City. He didn't personally kill her, but he had been directly responsible for it. He had been so bloody pissed off about it, a prime kill snatched from his hands. Now a part of him was relieved to not have been the one delivering the killing blow, but the darkest corners of his mind wished it had been him the one who drained her, and not that poofter of a lackey that claimed the Slayer's blood. His gang was supposed to wait for him before engaging combat, but the sods couldn't help themselves and drove her to her death.
Now the memory raised yet another question, how on earth was she a vampire? Spike remembered torturing Dave, the bloodsucker who offed her, and how he retold the whole incident, how he ran away right after draining her. So the question danced inside Spike's head, who the hell turned her? And before he realized, a swarm of questions were flooding his brain. How did she get her soul? When did she get it? Does she really have a soul, or the cemetery incident was just a war between vampire gangs? He knew there was a chance he might be wrong about her having a soul, but he kept dismissing that option. Unlike Angel, Spike wasn't able to pick up souls at a distance, and he hadn't been close enough to get some sort of confirmation. So he would have to rely on his grandsire. He didn't like that, he hated being in disadvantage in this sort of matters. Not to mention the fact that Spike hid information from Angel, he didn't tell him she had been a Slayer, nor that Spike tried to off her twenty-one years ago, nor that he knew her name. What was the point in telling him? Not that it mattered what or who she had been and how Spike knew her. Angel and Spike were not friends, they were just colleagues that helped each other. No need to fill him in on all the details. Except, maybe, that she looked like someone who enjoyed partying, that info might help with the search. He tossed and turned, trying to force himself out of all that thinking. Bloody hell, I just wanna go back to sleep.
When sunset finally arrived, they both took off, hoping they would find her. And at least they had wheels, courtesy of Andrew. The little ponce could be absolutely annoying, but he was always helping Spike and to some extent, Angel. So when Andrew heard that the vampires were on some wild hunt and were gonna be settling in London, he got them a place to stay and a car to move around. After the battle in LA three years ago, when Wolfram and Hart was finally defeated, Angel lost most of his assets and was left with some cash to survive for a while. Same with Spike, so Andrew helping them out was a big plus.
They drove around the city until they found a club that could be a place where this mysterious girl would hang out. And as soon as they entered Spike caught her scent. Yup, she was here. The pair elbowed their way through the crowd, and while Spike was really digging this place, Angel was hating it. They stood near a corner, where they could scan the crowd. "Do you see her?" Angel yelled, trying to be heard over the loud music. And he got his answer when he noticed Spike staring at someone. "Over there," he pointed.
As they made their way towards the vampire, Spike couldn't help but notice the way she was dancing her way to the bar, swaying her hips, red mane brushing her bare back. When they got to the bar, just as Rose was grabbing a bottle, she turned around and faced them. And all that Spike could think of was just one word.
Gulp.
