For disclaimer, rating, etc. see Chap 1
Author's notes: Many apologies for amount of time it's going to take to get the next chapter up; I'm going away on holiday. I would also like readers to note that I will not alter my fics according to the pairing they want. I'd be happy to write a new fic with that pairing for you (if I approve of it, for instance- Buffy/Giles, shudder)
The room reverberated with silence. It was interrupted by Fred, who delicately inserted her head around the door and informed Buffy and Faith, "Hey... uh, I didn't mean to intrude, cos that would be rude and everything, and people don't like rude people, especially when they're talking about important things, but-"
"Spit it out, Fred," said Angel kindly, smiling.
She nodded. "Right. Um, you two," she gestured to Buffy and Faith, "are gunna have to share a room. They mixed it up, and thought two of your group were a couple, so they gave you a double bed in one of your rooms, and all the hotel is full, and that sweet girl Dawn said that you," she tilted her head towards Willow, "was, uh, gay, so you shouldn't share with someone else." She smiled hopefully and apologetically at them.
Angel looked between the two Slayers, expecting trouble. The two never seemed to get along well, always clashing. However, he came to the conclusion that they must have bonded over the summer, and over the last apocalypse, because they smiled at each other acceptingly, and linked arms like best friends. Faith tugged Buffy after her as she clambered to her feet, and announced, "I'm gunna go settle it."
Buffy spoke up defiantly, "I want to go on a patrol later. It's been ages since I've had a proper patrol; there aren't enough demons, once we've have the Slayerlings take some out. I'm sure Faith will come with me, won't you?" She turned to Faith questioningly.
Faith grinned conspiratorially at her. "But B, with Angel and his ghost- bustin' crew here, we might not find any. We'll be at the nightclub on Bane Street if we don't see any. We could make a night of it if any of you suckers wanted to show."
She swept out of the room, dragging Buffy along with her before the blonde could contradict her.
***
Later, after a wander through some of LA's meaner streets and a few satisfyingly violent battles, Buffy and Faith were undulating to the pulse of dance music in the hottest club in town. The mob of partiers of the floor were moving as one to the beat, and then you looked closer, and you saw the intricate, separate people doing their own dances, moving and differentiating themselves, and then you looked even closer, and you saw the subtle manipulations in these movements. You realized the guy innocently buying a drink for the pretty, baby-faced girl next to him was winking to the bartender, who laced it with vodka; you saw the boy with a pinched face lifting a wallet from a back pocket as pretended to squeeze by on his way to the toilet; you spied the woman with straight, long raven tresses seducing an awkward, pimple-faced student who must have bluffed his way in; and you understood that this is what these people came here to do. The true clubbers, the regulars, knew this, and avoided the dangers; but the newcomers were bewitched and bewildered by the 'workers', so called because they worked over the crowd.
The two Slayers had never been there before, just heard of it, but Faith had been to many clubs, and Buffy had her Slayer instincts, and wasn't naive in the least anymore. So the women were writhing and rippling to the music, letting their cares and their worries go in the exhilaration and adrenaline of letting loose.
Angel, Spike, Cordelia, Gunn, Wesley and Xander pushed through the door, and peered through the sweaty gloom. Xander spotted some low couches in the corner by the bar, and headed that way, towing the others behind her. Angel took orders and went to buy a round of drinks as Spike sprawled over a sagging armchair and bluntly asked, "So, you think the bints are here yet?"
Gunn shrugged and replied amiably, "I dunno, but this place is cool, man. I'm not gunna spend the who night lookin' for them."
Angel returned and handed out the drinks, scowling when Spike shoved his muddy Doc Martens up on the table, laces trailing dirt and what looked like faintly phosphorescent Vin'sdu demon blood. He declined to comment though, and sank into the sofa next to Wesley with a plastic tumbler of whiskey in his hand.
It was only when Xander choked on his beer and coughed so much Cordelia remarked acidly, "I think he's hacking up a hairball," that Angel snapped to attention. As Xander finished spluttering, he wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve and pointed. "Well, I guess we found Buffy and Faith." he said absent-mindedly, his attention focused on the two Slayers.
Angel followed his finger, and at first just saw a heaving mass of dancers on the upraised floor in the centre of the huge room. But there was something odd about it; it was a second before he realized that it was that the throng was all guys. He peered curiously at the group, and still hadn't put two and two together when he saw Buffy and Faith dancing together in the middle of the slavering horde.
This time it was his turn to choke. It had been a while since he'd seen Buffy on top form. She was decked out in her patrolling leathers, but she must have borrowed the top from Faith; Angel was positive that she would never buy a leather top that revealing. She was wearing tight, red leather trousers; black, high-heeled leather boots; and a black leather top which Angel couldn't find a name for. It bared her midriff, and pushed her breasts up until they strained the leather. The straps went at an angle from the straight top to criss-cross over her back, which was bare, and then attached themselves back to the top at the opposite side to the one they started out from. Her hair was in loose, wavy, long golden curls, and she had somehow managed to get a smokey effect around her eyes without looking like she was stoned. Her mouth was red; her cheeks flushed; her skin was golden; and Angel instantly had to put his jacket over his lap at the way she moved. Faith was equally sexy, but didn't have the golden beauty Buffy did, nor her way of moving that was both suggestive and innocent. Angel had the irresistible urge to storm over the the multitude of males, vamp out, and roar to the world that Buffy was *his* and always would be. Not only in his heart, but on her neck too. The Master and Dracula had bitter her, sure, but he was the only one who had marked her as his own.
Next to him, Spike wasn't fairing so well. He'd had to stand behind his chair to hide his reaction, and his eyes kept going yellow with a possessiveness Angel wanted to rip his throat out for. But he had left Buffy, not the other way around, he had no say in whom she moved on to.
The girls seemed to be enjoying the attention, although neither allowed any to get too cocky, making sure they had a small gap between them and the drooling men. However, it was then that Faith used two muscular guy's shoulders to push herself above the crowd and spotted them. She immediately dropped into the throng again and moments later reappeared with Buffy clinging to her hand to stop them getting separated. It was only when they arrived and squabbled over the remaining chair (which eventually resulted in Buffy collapsing on top of Faith's lap) that Angel dragged his attention away and noticed with shock and no small amount of masculine jealousy that Gunn, Wes and even Xander were also eying the girls with lust.
Buffy was more relaxed and care-free than she had been in years. Everything just felt so easy, and she felt so free to do whatever she wanted. She had responsibilities, yeah, but they weren't immediate ones, or constant. She could trust Dawn to take care of herself. She could leave California if she wished; the Hellmouth was no longer there. She had two gorgeous guys in love with her (she hopes, with a tinge of doubt) who she had to choose between, but not now. She had friends and family and Faith, who in all honesty was really her best friend. She was still excellent friends with Willow, but she didn't understand Willow's magick, and Willow didn't understand her Slayerliness. Smiling, she used one of her training moves to ripple up off Faith and the chair, and asked about drinks before fluttering her fingers in ciao and heading over to buy a cocktail.
When she disappeared from view in the crowds, Angel's head immediately snapped round to Spike's challengingly. They glared at each other for several minutes before Spike let his face soften and muttered out the corner of his mouth, "Her choice."
And it was. He knew that. He just didn't like that.
***
Cordelia had elbowed Xander laughingly as he watched Buffy and Faith dancing wide-eyed. Now he turned to her with such a contented, matured, but essentially Xander smile she couldn't help but laugh again and pull him to the dance floor. He'd learned how to dance without looking like a one- legged chicken in the past years as well; he was no Michael Jackson, but he could move to the music well enough. Cordelia realized that out of all of them, Xander had probably changed the least. He'd matured greatly, and he'd grown from 'the Anya experience' as she'd heard Dawn call it, and he'd become less idealistic with only one eye. By 'the Anya experience' she supposed that Dawn meant his love for her, and jilting her at the altar, and then finally losing her in the final battle. She leaned into him in a friendly way as the music slowed, and she could see him, too, evaluating her, noting the changes, and discovering the new and improved Cordy. She smiled again, and rested her head on his shoulder.
***
Back in the lounge area, Spike was arguing happily with Faith over who should get the last peanut from the bag Angel had bought for the table. She grinned, and reached for the tiny snack again as his vampiric reflexes awoke and shot out to slap her hand away. His other hand was holding his drink though, and so as his left battled Faith's right, her left slipped under to snatch it and pop it in her mouth. He snarled without any real passion, and couldn't stop the corners of his mouth quirking up. Buffy liked, if not loved him, he was accepted, he had something to do now that Buffy's touch made him corporeal, and there was no major upcoming evil. Life was good.
He caught Faith's eye, trying to scout out her level of joy, when he saw her gazing at Buffy making her way across the room to them, and undoubtedly saw the very, very familiar look in her eyes.
He couldn't help but exclaim with compassion, "You're in LOVE with her, you silly bint!"
Author's notes: Many apologies for amount of time it's going to take to get the next chapter up; I'm going away on holiday. I would also like readers to note that I will not alter my fics according to the pairing they want. I'd be happy to write a new fic with that pairing for you (if I approve of it, for instance- Buffy/Giles, shudder)
The room reverberated with silence. It was interrupted by Fred, who delicately inserted her head around the door and informed Buffy and Faith, "Hey... uh, I didn't mean to intrude, cos that would be rude and everything, and people don't like rude people, especially when they're talking about important things, but-"
"Spit it out, Fred," said Angel kindly, smiling.
She nodded. "Right. Um, you two," she gestured to Buffy and Faith, "are gunna have to share a room. They mixed it up, and thought two of your group were a couple, so they gave you a double bed in one of your rooms, and all the hotel is full, and that sweet girl Dawn said that you," she tilted her head towards Willow, "was, uh, gay, so you shouldn't share with someone else." She smiled hopefully and apologetically at them.
Angel looked between the two Slayers, expecting trouble. The two never seemed to get along well, always clashing. However, he came to the conclusion that they must have bonded over the summer, and over the last apocalypse, because they smiled at each other acceptingly, and linked arms like best friends. Faith tugged Buffy after her as she clambered to her feet, and announced, "I'm gunna go settle it."
Buffy spoke up defiantly, "I want to go on a patrol later. It's been ages since I've had a proper patrol; there aren't enough demons, once we've have the Slayerlings take some out. I'm sure Faith will come with me, won't you?" She turned to Faith questioningly.
Faith grinned conspiratorially at her. "But B, with Angel and his ghost- bustin' crew here, we might not find any. We'll be at the nightclub on Bane Street if we don't see any. We could make a night of it if any of you suckers wanted to show."
She swept out of the room, dragging Buffy along with her before the blonde could contradict her.
***
Later, after a wander through some of LA's meaner streets and a few satisfyingly violent battles, Buffy and Faith were undulating to the pulse of dance music in the hottest club in town. The mob of partiers of the floor were moving as one to the beat, and then you looked closer, and you saw the intricate, separate people doing their own dances, moving and differentiating themselves, and then you looked even closer, and you saw the subtle manipulations in these movements. You realized the guy innocently buying a drink for the pretty, baby-faced girl next to him was winking to the bartender, who laced it with vodka; you saw the boy with a pinched face lifting a wallet from a back pocket as pretended to squeeze by on his way to the toilet; you spied the woman with straight, long raven tresses seducing an awkward, pimple-faced student who must have bluffed his way in; and you understood that this is what these people came here to do. The true clubbers, the regulars, knew this, and avoided the dangers; but the newcomers were bewitched and bewildered by the 'workers', so called because they worked over the crowd.
The two Slayers had never been there before, just heard of it, but Faith had been to many clubs, and Buffy had her Slayer instincts, and wasn't naive in the least anymore. So the women were writhing and rippling to the music, letting their cares and their worries go in the exhilaration and adrenaline of letting loose.
Angel, Spike, Cordelia, Gunn, Wesley and Xander pushed through the door, and peered through the sweaty gloom. Xander spotted some low couches in the corner by the bar, and headed that way, towing the others behind her. Angel took orders and went to buy a round of drinks as Spike sprawled over a sagging armchair and bluntly asked, "So, you think the bints are here yet?"
Gunn shrugged and replied amiably, "I dunno, but this place is cool, man. I'm not gunna spend the who night lookin' for them."
Angel returned and handed out the drinks, scowling when Spike shoved his muddy Doc Martens up on the table, laces trailing dirt and what looked like faintly phosphorescent Vin'sdu demon blood. He declined to comment though, and sank into the sofa next to Wesley with a plastic tumbler of whiskey in his hand.
It was only when Xander choked on his beer and coughed so much Cordelia remarked acidly, "I think he's hacking up a hairball," that Angel snapped to attention. As Xander finished spluttering, he wiped his mouth with his shirt sleeve and pointed. "Well, I guess we found Buffy and Faith." he said absent-mindedly, his attention focused on the two Slayers.
Angel followed his finger, and at first just saw a heaving mass of dancers on the upraised floor in the centre of the huge room. But there was something odd about it; it was a second before he realized that it was that the throng was all guys. He peered curiously at the group, and still hadn't put two and two together when he saw Buffy and Faith dancing together in the middle of the slavering horde.
This time it was his turn to choke. It had been a while since he'd seen Buffy on top form. She was decked out in her patrolling leathers, but she must have borrowed the top from Faith; Angel was positive that she would never buy a leather top that revealing. She was wearing tight, red leather trousers; black, high-heeled leather boots; and a black leather top which Angel couldn't find a name for. It bared her midriff, and pushed her breasts up until they strained the leather. The straps went at an angle from the straight top to criss-cross over her back, which was bare, and then attached themselves back to the top at the opposite side to the one they started out from. Her hair was in loose, wavy, long golden curls, and she had somehow managed to get a smokey effect around her eyes without looking like she was stoned. Her mouth was red; her cheeks flushed; her skin was golden; and Angel instantly had to put his jacket over his lap at the way she moved. Faith was equally sexy, but didn't have the golden beauty Buffy did, nor her way of moving that was both suggestive and innocent. Angel had the irresistible urge to storm over the the multitude of males, vamp out, and roar to the world that Buffy was *his* and always would be. Not only in his heart, but on her neck too. The Master and Dracula had bitter her, sure, but he was the only one who had marked her as his own.
Next to him, Spike wasn't fairing so well. He'd had to stand behind his chair to hide his reaction, and his eyes kept going yellow with a possessiveness Angel wanted to rip his throat out for. But he had left Buffy, not the other way around, he had no say in whom she moved on to.
The girls seemed to be enjoying the attention, although neither allowed any to get too cocky, making sure they had a small gap between them and the drooling men. However, it was then that Faith used two muscular guy's shoulders to push herself above the crowd and spotted them. She immediately dropped into the throng again and moments later reappeared with Buffy clinging to her hand to stop them getting separated. It was only when they arrived and squabbled over the remaining chair (which eventually resulted in Buffy collapsing on top of Faith's lap) that Angel dragged his attention away and noticed with shock and no small amount of masculine jealousy that Gunn, Wes and even Xander were also eying the girls with lust.
Buffy was more relaxed and care-free than she had been in years. Everything just felt so easy, and she felt so free to do whatever she wanted. She had responsibilities, yeah, but they weren't immediate ones, or constant. She could trust Dawn to take care of herself. She could leave California if she wished; the Hellmouth was no longer there. She had two gorgeous guys in love with her (she hopes, with a tinge of doubt) who she had to choose between, but not now. She had friends and family and Faith, who in all honesty was really her best friend. She was still excellent friends with Willow, but she didn't understand Willow's magick, and Willow didn't understand her Slayerliness. Smiling, she used one of her training moves to ripple up off Faith and the chair, and asked about drinks before fluttering her fingers in ciao and heading over to buy a cocktail.
When she disappeared from view in the crowds, Angel's head immediately snapped round to Spike's challengingly. They glared at each other for several minutes before Spike let his face soften and muttered out the corner of his mouth, "Her choice."
And it was. He knew that. He just didn't like that.
***
Cordelia had elbowed Xander laughingly as he watched Buffy and Faith dancing wide-eyed. Now he turned to her with such a contented, matured, but essentially Xander smile she couldn't help but laugh again and pull him to the dance floor. He'd learned how to dance without looking like a one- legged chicken in the past years as well; he was no Michael Jackson, but he could move to the music well enough. Cordelia realized that out of all of them, Xander had probably changed the least. He'd matured greatly, and he'd grown from 'the Anya experience' as she'd heard Dawn call it, and he'd become less idealistic with only one eye. By 'the Anya experience' she supposed that Dawn meant his love for her, and jilting her at the altar, and then finally losing her in the final battle. She leaned into him in a friendly way as the music slowed, and she could see him, too, evaluating her, noting the changes, and discovering the new and improved Cordy. She smiled again, and rested her head on his shoulder.
***
Back in the lounge area, Spike was arguing happily with Faith over who should get the last peanut from the bag Angel had bought for the table. She grinned, and reached for the tiny snack again as his vampiric reflexes awoke and shot out to slap her hand away. His other hand was holding his drink though, and so as his left battled Faith's right, her left slipped under to snatch it and pop it in her mouth. He snarled without any real passion, and couldn't stop the corners of his mouth quirking up. Buffy liked, if not loved him, he was accepted, he had something to do now that Buffy's touch made him corporeal, and there was no major upcoming evil. Life was good.
He caught Faith's eye, trying to scout out her level of joy, when he saw her gazing at Buffy making her way across the room to them, and undoubtedly saw the very, very familiar look in her eyes.
He couldn't help but exclaim with compassion, "You're in LOVE with her, you silly bint!"