Gifts 10/?
Promptly at 6:30 on Friday night, Spike arrived outside the Bronze. He estimated that the Slayer and her nitwit date would appear in a little over half an hour, judging by the conversation he had overheard in the college classroom the other day. Just in case their plans had changed and they showed up earlier, though, he was ready and waiting. Besides, a pack of his fledglings was due to turn up as well, and he wanted to make sure they knew what they were to do.
Buffy was coming with someone named Parker Abrams. Spike sneered. What an idiotic name. Obviously, she was rebelling against him by choosing to go out with someone else. Well, he'd let her play hard to get for a little while, he supposed, but no way would he allow her to run around without him there to monitor the situation.
As he watched the sun droop toward the horizon, Spike touched his chest over the incision he'd had made so the Gem of Amara could be planted inside his body. He now stood virtually no chance of losing it, although to be fair, no one knew he had it. Even the minions that had located the Gem had no idea of its significance. All they knew was that they had dug up a treasure trove of jewelry and weapons, and for once Spike hadn't been pissed at them. The reason why he was safely able to go out during the daytime remained a mystery to them. It had also, in mere days, enhanced Spike's reputation to near legendary proportions.
He continued to hover outside the building, impatiently waiting for his fledglings to appear with the arrival of sunset. He still had plenty of time to waste before Buffy showed up, so Spike decided to grab a snack to tide himself over. He casually looked around and waited out the first few groups of people who wandered past. He wanted someone who was alone. The Bronze was a pretty busy place on weekends, but most people had the sense to travel in packs. Still, it only took one who didn't. After just a few minutes, Spike found that one: a young man wearing an apron and a nametag.
"Hey, mate." Spike waved him over.
The man hesitated and then crossed the street to stand before him. "Yeah, what is it? I'm going to be late for my bartending shift."
"You got the time?"
When the bartender pulled back his sleeve to check, Spike pounced. He grabbed the guy and tugged him into the shadows, then sank his fangs into the man's neck. The thick, delicious taste of blood streamed into his mouth, and Spike had to remind himself to drink just enough to take the edge off his hunger. After all, he didn't want to leave a pile of bodies in his wake and ruin any chance he had with the Slayer. Not when he was finally making real progress with her.
Restraining himself, Spike withdrew and allowed his victim to crumple to the ground. The stunned bartender opened his eyes and stared up at Spike. "What just happened?"
"You passed out. Need a hand?" Without waiting for an answer, Spike hauled the confused man to his feet. "Off you go, now."
"Yeah, thanks." The bartender wobbled toward the Bronze, looking uncertain but determined to get to work.
Satisfied that he had covered up well enough, Spike turned his attention back to thoughts of Buffy. Given his new sunproof status, enrolling in her college courses had struck him as an excellent idea. Until the minion who had hacked into her computer records reported that all but one of her classes were full. Spike had immediately signed up to audit that single course, reasoning that it was better than nothing. Buffy had to get used to seeing him as a regular part of her life. As soon she'd realize how well he fit in to her everyday existence, she'd have to reason to reject him.
Finally, the sun sank low enough so that the idiot fledglings could make their way out of the lair to meet him. Spike quickly repeated the instructions he had given them earlier, confirming that the young vampires couldn't possibly forget the importance of their assignments. Then he slipped inside the Bronze and selected a corner table in the darkest section of the room.
At a few minutes after 7, his patience was rewarded. Spike watched from his secluded spot as Buffy and her date weaved their way through the crowd and collected drinks from the bar, then chose a small table near the dance floor. They began to chat animatedly, not seeming to lack for topics of conversation. Buffy looked like she was having a good time--way too good. She was laughing at some comment the idiot boy had made. Spike was close enough to get a good view of their actions, but he couldn't make out their conversation and he didn't dare move. As long as he stayed a fair distance away, odds were good that the Slayer wouldn't sense he was in the building. The minute he crept close enough to hear them, though, she was sure to notice him and accuse him of spying on her. Which he was, but he figured he had a right. She was more or less cheating on him, and he thought his reaction was pretty restrained. It didn't mean he had to enjoy watching her out with someone else, of course.
Spike growled as Buffy laughed for the third time. He nervously checked his watch, hoping the stupid fledglings could successfully complete at least this one task. It was almost time...
He looked at the doorway. Sure enough, a fledgling appeared there. Spike established eye contact and nodded. The vampire obediently crossed the room, chose a victim from the dance floor, and lured him outside, all within mere moments.
A minute after the first fledgling left, another entered the Bronze and repeated the process. By the time the third vampire had come and gone, Buffy started to catch on to the pattern. Spike looked on as she stopped listening to Parker, who had to touch her arm to get her attention. Spike could see her make an excuse to her companion, then cut across the floor toward the exit. He relaxed in relief. It had been only too easy to disrupt the date. Buffy couldn't resist a call for help, and Spike had arranged for a steady stream of them tonight. So he'd lose at least a handful of fledglings in the process. So what? They were disposable anyway, and the results would be well worth the small inconvenience.
While he waited for Buffy to return from wasting the first three puny fledglings, Spike idly watched Parker go to the bar to collect drink refills. He brought the glasses back to the table, then slowly glanced around the room. Spike turned away, avoiding eye contact just to be safe. When he looked back at the other table, Parker was reaching into his pocket. Spike narrowed his eyes, observing as the boy pulled a small item out and held it hidden in his fist.
Before he could make another move, Buffy came trotting back into the room and slid into her seat. Parker shifted his hand back to the pocket, depositing the object inside, before he presented Buffy with her unharmed drink. Clueless, she smiled and accepted it.
Spike settled back into his corner, boiling with rage. If he was correct, Parker had just attempted to drug Buffy's drink. Worst of all, Spike could do little about it at the moment. If he approached Buffy, she would rightfully accuse him of following her and probably not believe a word he said anyway. He decided instead to continue to watch and wait, then confirm his suspicions and take care of Parker as soon as the date was over. He would have plenty of opportunities to make sure nothing untoward happened; with the interruptions he had planned, Buffy wouldn't have five consecutive minutes of peace for the duration of her date.