Disclaimers: This isn't mine. None of it . . . sob.
Feedback: Hell yeah! Just don't flame.
Author's Note: Yes! I have over 200 reviews! And I thought this day would never come . . . Anyway, to those who are worrying about this whole Drusilla thing, don't. It'll be okay, I promise, not *too* much wacko rambling; I think there was more than enough this season. I've actually written the rest of the story, but have yet to post it because I like to see you suffer. Evil, that's what I is, evil.
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"I'm just saying, maybe you were too hard on her."
Buffy entered the house and listened to the tense (and rather loud) conversation in the living room. She immediately recognized the voices to be those of Willow and Xander. Deciding that she'd rather not get into an argument at the moment, Buffy snuck up the stairs and into her room. Slipping her coat off and onto the floor, she lay down on her bed, snuggling into the comforters contentedly. However, to her dismay, she could still hear the conversation that was taking place downstairs.
"She was dancing with -Spike-! Don't tell me that isn't at least a 6 on the weirdness factor."
That was Xander's voice, most definitely.
"He's evil, and he's soulless, and they're not exactly friends of the dancing persuasion. I just think something fishy is going on."
"Well, okay, so they're not best friends or anything . . ." Willow countered, "But it's not like Spike's some huge threat anymore. He can't attack anyone -"
"Or so he claims," Xander scoffed.
"They did a spell, Xander, a truth spell. I already told you that . . . and if he could hurt anyone, I'm pretty sure he would've gotten to the killing already."
"Who's to say he hasn't? Not all spells go perfectly; I know from experience."
"Okay, let's say he isn't harmless, just for arguments sake," Willow said, sounding a bit flustered, "What are we supposed to do about it? Barge into his . . . wherever he lives, and confront him?"
"I'd say a good staking's in order."
"Xander, you know we can't do that. You have no proof other than your . . . your stupid feeling that Spike's lying. If you take into account the whole not biting me, you, or anyone else; your theory is kinda blown out of the water. And why are you so livid about this anyway?" Willow stopped, sounding suspicious. "You weren't like this before . . . until tonight! Oh, oh, you're jealous!"
"J-jealous? Of that bleach-head? Ha! Don't make me laugh!" Xander stuttered.
"You are!" Willow said, "You're jealous that Buffy was dancing with him!"
"No! It's just that . . . I don't . . ." he paused, trying to gather his thoughts. "Okay, maybe a little. BUT," he added, "I probably would've been jealous seeing Buffy dance like that with -any- guy. The fact that it was Spike just worsens the whole situation. Them dancing together . . . it's just wrong." He seemed to shudder internally at the thought. "She shouldn't be that close to her arch-nemesis without some punching being involved."
"I agree that the . . . thing we saw tonight at the Bronze was weird," Willow said, "but it's not -that- strange. I mean, okay, yeah, Spike did try to kill us all at one point or another, but he's . . . different now. He can't hurt anything. And we don't spend every waking moment with Buffy . . . maybe they bonded when we weren't around. I mean, remember that time when we came home and Buffy had untied Spike?"
"How could I forget?" Xander said, sounding exasperated, "I had nightmares about it for a week? I come in, make some comment, and he stands up and rips my throat out. I hope it's not one of those prophetic dreams," he mused.
"Maybe there's nothing more to Buffy and Spike dancing than . . . just dancing. I mean, it's her birthday, and if she wants to get her groove on, who are we to stop her?"
"Yeah . . ." Xander said, sounding a tad guilty, "Maybe I should apologize to her when she gets here." He paused, thinking. "Why did we come here anyway, Wills? How do we know that she's not at the dorm?"
Willow sighed. "I guess we don't. But what's more comforting than home? I know that whenever I get into an argument, the first place I tend to go is Buffys house."
Xander raised a questioning eyebrow at her, and she shrugged.
"What can I say? Joyce makes a mean cup of cocoa. I just . . . I figured she would be the same way."
"Wow, you really know me well," Buffy said, heading down the stairs to greet her friends. She had decided it was time to make her presence known.
"Buffy!" Willow exclaimed, surprised.
"Hey, Buff, we were just talking about you," Xander said, attempting to look nonchalant.
"I know," she said, entering the living room. Xander looked nervous, and Buffy had to suppress the urge to grin. 'Let him worry,' she thought, 'he was such an ass over at the Bronze that he deserves a little . . . discomfort.'
"Er . . . umm . . . how long were you up there?" he asked.
"Oh, say . . ." she pretended to look at her watch. "About ten minutes."
"Wow, you must have been really quiet," Willow piped up, "we were here for about an, um, an hour waiting for you."
"You don't say," Buffy replied, her voice cool and distant. She set a stony glare on Xander, and he started to fidget under her gaze.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice laced with remorse (as well as more than a touch of anxiousness), "I didn't mean to make such a . . . to cause a scene over at the Bronze. It's your party and you can dance if you want to."
"Well, thank you Xander, for giving me permission," Buffy said, "Can I cry if I want to, too?"
"Huh?" he asked, confused.
Buffy shook her head. "Lame joke, never mind."
Willow, the silent observer, decided she'd better speak up.
"I'm sorry too, Buffy, we don't mean to get all . . . fussy at you. It's just that we were all worried about your little dance-a-thon with the living dead. Sorry if we ruined your party," she added in a small voice.
Guilt washed over Buffy as she realized that she really wasn't mad anymore, at either of them. 'They planned the party in the first place, and I guess they were just trying to look out for me. Willow was right; they don't know the situation so they can't possibly know how to react to something like that. I mean, how would I have felt had I seen Willow dancing with Spike?' Buffy was surprised to realize that, not only would she be more than a little shocked, but also at the moment, the thought made her . . . this couldn't be right . . . jealous!
Buffy felt like smacking herself upside the head, just to gain some clarity. 'Come on, Buffy, the -thought- of Spike dancing with another girl makes you jealous? That's pathetic.'
"Um, Buffy?" Willow asked, confused.
Upon realization that her friends were staring at her, Buffys thoughts snapped back to the matter at hand.
"Oh, right, sorry," she muttered, suddenly feeling very aware of herself, "Consider it forgotten."
Xander visibly relaxed, and Willow gave her a beaming smile.
"I'm sorry, Buffy," she said, giving her friend a hug.
"I'm sorry, too," she responded, "You were only concerned and you -did- plan the whole party thing for me."
"Hey, don't forget me," Xander piped up, "I helped, too."
She released Willow from her grip and smiled at him. "You don't get a hug, but you do get a Buffy patented grin."
"Oh," Xander said, "I guess I'll just take my presents back, then," he joked.
"Nu-uh, you already gave them to me, so they're officially mine. You'll have to pry them out of my cold, dead hands."
Xander grinned, cracking his knuckles threateningly. "Zat can be arranged," he said in a horrible Russian accent.
Buffy rolled her eyes, turning her attention to Willow. "Soooo," she said, ignoring Xander's attempts at humor, "Do we have cake?"
"Double chocolate," Willow said, smiling.
"I got it!" Xander cried out, and both girls looked at him, confused.
"Uh, the joke . . . Buffys joke, I got it."
"Great, and in only . . . five minutes," Buffy joked, "Wow, your best time ever."
Willow walked to the kitchen, picking up a plastic-wrapped cake that looked absolutely delectable. "And she said: 'Let them eat cake!'"
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Spike sat in his crypt, thinking. It had been weird, what had happened that night. Interesting, no doubt, but strange.
'Buffy dancing with me . . . getting jumped in the alley . . . all adding up to one unforgettable day. Unless I get whacked on the head again, and in that case . . . goodbye Spike, hello William the Bloody Vegetable. And what -was- that little Spike-bashing trip about? I mean, I'm all for a spot of violence now and then, but not when I'm the one getting whacked over the head with a sodding crowbar! I can't even fight back, and that's not fair! At least when I used to munch on humans, they could at least put up a fight. Yeah, not very well, but they didn't get these bloody shocks whenever they . . . s'just not fair. At least shoulda let me have a running start.'
The door slammed open and Spike was jolted from his thoughts, standing up abruptly. 'Buffy's back?'
He watched nervously as a large group of vampire entered his crypt. Two, three, four . . . he counted the number in his head, and estimated about six total . . . and more kept coming.
"Let me guess . . . no running start?"
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TBC . . .
Feedback: Hell yeah! Just don't flame.
Author's Note: Yes! I have over 200 reviews! And I thought this day would never come . . . Anyway, to those who are worrying about this whole Drusilla thing, don't. It'll be okay, I promise, not *too* much wacko rambling; I think there was more than enough this season. I've actually written the rest of the story, but have yet to post it because I like to see you suffer. Evil, that's what I is, evil.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
"I'm just saying, maybe you were too hard on her."
Buffy entered the house and listened to the tense (and rather loud) conversation in the living room. She immediately recognized the voices to be those of Willow and Xander. Deciding that she'd rather not get into an argument at the moment, Buffy snuck up the stairs and into her room. Slipping her coat off and onto the floor, she lay down on her bed, snuggling into the comforters contentedly. However, to her dismay, she could still hear the conversation that was taking place downstairs.
"She was dancing with -Spike-! Don't tell me that isn't at least a 6 on the weirdness factor."
That was Xander's voice, most definitely.
"He's evil, and he's soulless, and they're not exactly friends of the dancing persuasion. I just think something fishy is going on."
"Well, okay, so they're not best friends or anything . . ." Willow countered, "But it's not like Spike's some huge threat anymore. He can't attack anyone -"
"Or so he claims," Xander scoffed.
"They did a spell, Xander, a truth spell. I already told you that . . . and if he could hurt anyone, I'm pretty sure he would've gotten to the killing already."
"Who's to say he hasn't? Not all spells go perfectly; I know from experience."
"Okay, let's say he isn't harmless, just for arguments sake," Willow said, sounding a bit flustered, "What are we supposed to do about it? Barge into his . . . wherever he lives, and confront him?"
"I'd say a good staking's in order."
"Xander, you know we can't do that. You have no proof other than your . . . your stupid feeling that Spike's lying. If you take into account the whole not biting me, you, or anyone else; your theory is kinda blown out of the water. And why are you so livid about this anyway?" Willow stopped, sounding suspicious. "You weren't like this before . . . until tonight! Oh, oh, you're jealous!"
"J-jealous? Of that bleach-head? Ha! Don't make me laugh!" Xander stuttered.
"You are!" Willow said, "You're jealous that Buffy was dancing with him!"
"No! It's just that . . . I don't . . ." he paused, trying to gather his thoughts. "Okay, maybe a little. BUT," he added, "I probably would've been jealous seeing Buffy dance like that with -any- guy. The fact that it was Spike just worsens the whole situation. Them dancing together . . . it's just wrong." He seemed to shudder internally at the thought. "She shouldn't be that close to her arch-nemesis without some punching being involved."
"I agree that the . . . thing we saw tonight at the Bronze was weird," Willow said, "but it's not -that- strange. I mean, okay, yeah, Spike did try to kill us all at one point or another, but he's . . . different now. He can't hurt anything. And we don't spend every waking moment with Buffy . . . maybe they bonded when we weren't around. I mean, remember that time when we came home and Buffy had untied Spike?"
"How could I forget?" Xander said, sounding exasperated, "I had nightmares about it for a week? I come in, make some comment, and he stands up and rips my throat out. I hope it's not one of those prophetic dreams," he mused.
"Maybe there's nothing more to Buffy and Spike dancing than . . . just dancing. I mean, it's her birthday, and if she wants to get her groove on, who are we to stop her?"
"Yeah . . ." Xander said, sounding a tad guilty, "Maybe I should apologize to her when she gets here." He paused, thinking. "Why did we come here anyway, Wills? How do we know that she's not at the dorm?"
Willow sighed. "I guess we don't. But what's more comforting than home? I know that whenever I get into an argument, the first place I tend to go is Buffys house."
Xander raised a questioning eyebrow at her, and she shrugged.
"What can I say? Joyce makes a mean cup of cocoa. I just . . . I figured she would be the same way."
"Wow, you really know me well," Buffy said, heading down the stairs to greet her friends. She had decided it was time to make her presence known.
"Buffy!" Willow exclaimed, surprised.
"Hey, Buff, we were just talking about you," Xander said, attempting to look nonchalant.
"I know," she said, entering the living room. Xander looked nervous, and Buffy had to suppress the urge to grin. 'Let him worry,' she thought, 'he was such an ass over at the Bronze that he deserves a little . . . discomfort.'
"Er . . . umm . . . how long were you up there?" he asked.
"Oh, say . . ." she pretended to look at her watch. "About ten minutes."
"Wow, you must have been really quiet," Willow piped up, "we were here for about an, um, an hour waiting for you."
"You don't say," Buffy replied, her voice cool and distant. She set a stony glare on Xander, and he started to fidget under her gaze.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice laced with remorse (as well as more than a touch of anxiousness), "I didn't mean to make such a . . . to cause a scene over at the Bronze. It's your party and you can dance if you want to."
"Well, thank you Xander, for giving me permission," Buffy said, "Can I cry if I want to, too?"
"Huh?" he asked, confused.
Buffy shook her head. "Lame joke, never mind."
Willow, the silent observer, decided she'd better speak up.
"I'm sorry too, Buffy, we don't mean to get all . . . fussy at you. It's just that we were all worried about your little dance-a-thon with the living dead. Sorry if we ruined your party," she added in a small voice.
Guilt washed over Buffy as she realized that she really wasn't mad anymore, at either of them. 'They planned the party in the first place, and I guess they were just trying to look out for me. Willow was right; they don't know the situation so they can't possibly know how to react to something like that. I mean, how would I have felt had I seen Willow dancing with Spike?' Buffy was surprised to realize that, not only would she be more than a little shocked, but also at the moment, the thought made her . . . this couldn't be right . . . jealous!
Buffy felt like smacking herself upside the head, just to gain some clarity. 'Come on, Buffy, the -thought- of Spike dancing with another girl makes you jealous? That's pathetic.'
"Um, Buffy?" Willow asked, confused.
Upon realization that her friends were staring at her, Buffys thoughts snapped back to the matter at hand.
"Oh, right, sorry," she muttered, suddenly feeling very aware of herself, "Consider it forgotten."
Xander visibly relaxed, and Willow gave her a beaming smile.
"I'm sorry, Buffy," she said, giving her friend a hug.
"I'm sorry, too," she responded, "You were only concerned and you -did- plan the whole party thing for me."
"Hey, don't forget me," Xander piped up, "I helped, too."
She released Willow from her grip and smiled at him. "You don't get a hug, but you do get a Buffy patented grin."
"Oh," Xander said, "I guess I'll just take my presents back, then," he joked.
"Nu-uh, you already gave them to me, so they're officially mine. You'll have to pry them out of my cold, dead hands."
Xander grinned, cracking his knuckles threateningly. "Zat can be arranged," he said in a horrible Russian accent.
Buffy rolled her eyes, turning her attention to Willow. "Soooo," she said, ignoring Xander's attempts at humor, "Do we have cake?"
"Double chocolate," Willow said, smiling.
"I got it!" Xander cried out, and both girls looked at him, confused.
"Uh, the joke . . . Buffys joke, I got it."
"Great, and in only . . . five minutes," Buffy joked, "Wow, your best time ever."
Willow walked to the kitchen, picking up a plastic-wrapped cake that looked absolutely delectable. "And she said: 'Let them eat cake!'"
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Spike sat in his crypt, thinking. It had been weird, what had happened that night. Interesting, no doubt, but strange.
'Buffy dancing with me . . . getting jumped in the alley . . . all adding up to one unforgettable day. Unless I get whacked on the head again, and in that case . . . goodbye Spike, hello William the Bloody Vegetable. And what -was- that little Spike-bashing trip about? I mean, I'm all for a spot of violence now and then, but not when I'm the one getting whacked over the head with a sodding crowbar! I can't even fight back, and that's not fair! At least when I used to munch on humans, they could at least put up a fight. Yeah, not very well, but they didn't get these bloody shocks whenever they . . . s'just not fair. At least shoulda let me have a running start.'
The door slammed open and Spike was jolted from his thoughts, standing up abruptly. 'Buffy's back?'
He watched nervously as a large group of vampire entered his crypt. Two, three, four . . . he counted the number in his head, and estimated about six total . . . and more kept coming.
"Let me guess . . . no running start?"
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TBC . . .