Angst is a great thing when you are reading it. I luuurve angst. I thrive on it. Throw in some hurt/comfort syndrome, a spot of unrequited love, and you've got the kind of wonderful, twisty, soul wrenching fanfiction I love. Living it, however, has a suckage factor that is unparalleled by anything on this planet.

I was skirting around my feelings, not wanting to examine them too closely, but Spike's words kept whirling around in my head. 'Silly, infantile crush'. He thought I was infatuated with an actor. I shook my head glumly. He didn't have a clue.

See, life is weird. I, like many women before me, graduated from the school of Hard Knocks, and got my Masters Degree in Failed Relationships. Every man I've ever been with has either left - can we say abandonment issues? - or, has been abusive. The later don't last; I won't put up with that shit. Grew up as a supporting actor in that movie, and I don't care to play the lead in a remake. So, I get my emotional needs met in other ways. I hang out with the other Girl Guide moms, have my fellow karaoke addicts over for BBQ night. And I discuss the shit out of Spike and Buffy's relationship online with my fellow Spike addicts.

Everyone has fantasies. And, no, I'm not talking about the x-rated ones at the moment, though you can find some very steamy fics on the net that are obviously someone's wet dreams in print. I refer more to a hearts desire kinda thang. One time, when I was really hooked on an awesome show, I discovered that I had some seriously amorous feelings for the male lead. At first, I was kind of disturbed, thinking there was something wrong with me. I came to realize, in talking with other fans, that it's really not that big a deal. It's a fantasy. All in fun, no harm done. As long as you're not stalking the actor, as long as you can keep your perspective - this is a TV show, not reality - then, hey. Go hard. Have a fun, harmless obsession about an imaginary guy. Have a great time cussing out the resistant, female love interest who won't give him the time of day, and think happy thoughts about how you'd make it all better. Okay, now we might be moving into that x-rated area.

There was only one problem with this perfectly safe little scenario. It was the imaginary part. At no point was the object of your obsession supposed to manifest itself into flesh and become real. It's against the fucking rules! Kinda defeats the purpose of the whole fantasy angle. The long and the short of it was, I'd never had feelings for the actor. He's just a really talented guy. It was the character that I fell for. And one thing about me - I'm one of those 'write the network, save our Show!' people - I'm pretty loyal once I get fixated. And, boy, I'd been fixated on Spike since him and Dru had shown up in Sunnyhell the very first time. My poor, Buffy-besotted Blondie didn't realize that I'd had a thing for him a lot longer than he'd had a thing for the Buffster. I wasn't in love, not exactly - but when I was brought face to face with him, close enough to touch, smell, breathe... well, I became painfully aware there was a lot more going on for me than some schoolgirl crush. Sigh.

I realized I was dragging my feet. The closer I got to the house, the slower I went. I was about 5 blocks away when I stopped entirely, crossed my arms and gazed pensively down the street. I didn't want to go back yet. I could sense him skulking along behind, watching over me. I was feeling rather ashamed that I had assumed he'd deserted me. Especially after prancing around on my moral high horse with Willow about his trustworthiness earlier this evening. Gah.

"Spike?"

He stepped out of the shadows. "Yeah?"

"Take me out for a beer?"

"Sure, pet."

The Bronze was really rocking. The Java Babes were very good, and I decided that I was going to have to do something really nice for Dawn to make it up to her. A few people casually nodded and said hello; I just nodded back and made it obvious that I was occupied. The last thing I needed was to be drawn into a conversation with someone about whom I knew nothing. This reality's Buffy obviously had a wider circle of friends and acquaintances then the one I knew from TV.

Spike sat a pint in front of me and settled down with his own. We drank in companionable silence for a while, listening to the band, watching the ebb and flow of humanity around us.

I don't know exactly how long we sat. Long enough for me to plow through a couple more pints anyway. Okay, I admit, adding alcohol to the powder keg that was us might not have been the best idea. Once again I was ignoring the previous note to self. Impulsive, that's me. After a while, I heard a song I liked playing. It had been so long since I last went dancing - all the guys in my little slice of the universe Don't. Dance. Ever. I gave Spike a nudge. I got back a guarded look. "Dance with me."

"Uh, I don't-"

"That's a crock of shit. Get your ass on the dance floor," I ordered, and pushed him off his bar stool. He put on a very indignant face, but I caught his hand and dragged him after me. We just joined in with the gyrating masses and partied down. A little move and shake, a little bump and grind, and all's well with the world. There's nothing quite like dancing to make you feel good.

One dance segued into another and another, until we found ourselves dancing to a much slower, more intimate song. It wasn't intentional, but as is wont to do when such music plays, we ended up dancing rather closely. His arms very naturally found there way around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. Mine draped themselves around his shoulders. Piercing blue eyes stared down at me, dark with passion and longing, sentiments that I was sure he found mirrored in my own. He lowered his head to kiss me - and someone chose that moment to tap on my shoulder. I jerked my head around, planning to reduce the hapless idiot to cinders with my glare. Instead I froze in my tracks.

"Mind if I cut in?"

I just stood there for a heartbeat, gaping. This couldn't be happening. The PTB's couldn't be this cruel. They just fucking couldn't! I whimpered, and turned back to Spike, whose expression was as shell-shocked as I felt, and leaned my forehead on his chest.

"Please tell me that's not Angel! Please!" I moaned. "Tell me I'm seeing things!"

"Oh, don't I wish," Spike ground out.

"It's not fucking FAIR!" I wailed, bashing my head repeatedly into his collarbone.

"Buffy?" Angel's voice was a peculiar mixture of sadness, concern and anger. I sighed, then turned within Spike's embrace. It occurred to me that Spike was not letting go. Which was fine with me, and whatever Buffy might ultimately feel about it was really not my problem. "Obviously Willow called you."

He gave me a puzzled look. "Actually, Cordelia had a vision."

"Oh, that's just fabulous," I muttered.

The three of us were creating a block to the free flow of the dance floor. Fine. I needed another beer now anyway. Or three. I led the way to our table, my blonde vampire shadow attached all the way. Hmm. Possessiveness looked good on him.

I went to take my seat, but Spike wouldn't let go. He slipped onto his stool and lifted me up, settling me on his lap. I gave him a look, but he just cocked his eyebrow at me. I glanced over at Angel. The expression on his face made me wince. Sigh.

"Okay, the short version. What do They Who Mess With Our Lives want?"

I watched him struggle. It was painful. I mean, it really hurt, physically, in my heart. I've always been kinda pissed at Angel for summarily making judgments where Buffy was concerned - he left her for her own good, he gave up his mortality and life with her for her own good – she never got a choice. I know he grew up in an age where men did the decision-making and women just accepted it, but hey! Change with the times, bucko. Still, as much as I agreed that he was a grand poof, I wasn't enjoying watching him suffer. Xander suffering was fun. This was different. Sigh.

"Look, Angel? Objects in the mirror are not necessarily what they appear to be, okay?"

That earned me a confused look. "Pardon me?"

I could tell Spike was enjoying the fact that he knew what was going on when Angel didn't. I dug my fingers firmly into his thigh as a warning to keep his mouth shut.

"I'll explain it later. Can you just give me the low down? What's the deal?"

He pulled it together. "Cordelia's vision was about you. She said something happened, you'd - changed somehow, weren't yourself. She said you were in danger." He ran a hand through his hair, looked around uncomfortably. "She's been away with a friend for awhile. She actually had the visions last night, but wasn't able to reach me until earlier today. I came right away."

I narrowed my eyes. "And your fingers are broken?"

Blank look. "Huh?"

"Telephone, Angel. I know you have one."

Sheepish look. "Yeah, I know, I just..."

"Had to come check it out yourself? Why am I not surprised?" Heavy sigh. Oh waitress, where the hell are you? Just bring me a pitcher. Or a keg. I finally flagged a girl down and ordered another pint.

"Buffy, has something happened? Are you okay?" Angel asked after the girl left.

I nodded. "Yeah, something happened - but I'm as fine as it's possible for me to be right now, Angel. Which isn't as fine as it could be, but is not nearly so bad as it might have been. It's... complicated."

He pressed on, unconvinced. "Cordelia saw... things. That just didn't make sense. Involving certain...people." He glared over my shoulder at Spike whose face took on an intrigued look.

"Do go on, Peaches," Spike drawled mockingly. "Exactly what kind of things did your little Vision Girl see?" He let a hand oh-so-casually settle on my knee.

I turned to glare at him, and he tried to pull an innocent act. I slugged him in the arm. "Stop being such a brat!"

"But you like it when I'm a brat," he flirted shamelessly. Angel's jaw twitched.

God, save me from posturing vampires! I turned back to the souled one. "You and I are going to have to sit down and have a long, uninterrupted conversation one day very soon. Alone." I emphasized the last word, with a jab of my elbow into Spike's ribs for the obscene things he was doing with his tongue to taunt Angel when he thought I didn't see it. He scowled and rubbed his chest. Angel's lips quirked into a shadow of a smile.

"What happened to 'he's a bloody fucking poof'?" Spike grumbled quietly. I dug in my fingers again and he shut up quickly.

Angel growled at Spike, then gave me a nod. "I'm going to stay in town for a few days. I'll be at the mansion. We can..." he gave the blonde vampire a meaningful glare. "...talk more later."

"That's great, Peaches," Spike interjected. "Now toddle off, hair boy. Some of us are trying to enjoy the evening."

The waitress finally showed up with my beer, which I consumed half of in about 4 long swallows. I set it down to find the 2 vampires staring at me.

"You're sure your okay?" Angel pressed one last time. I just nodded. He rose to leave, and then stopped, looking at me uncertainly. Oh. He was hoping for a hug. Okay, I could do that. I had to peel Spike's arm off me first, though. Angel squeezed gently then released me. Spike's arm was around my waist pulling me back on his lap almost before Angle let go. After a final look to assure himself that I was, indeed, there of my own free will, the other vampire finally turned and left.

I slumped back against Spike. "Well, that was fun. Not."

"You were awfully nice to him." Oooh, pouty Spike.

Sigh. "Just because I think he was a major wanker for leaving doesn't mean I need to shred what's left of his undead heart and jump up and down on the little pieces."

"Sounds like a good time to me," he gripped. I ignored him and drank some more beer. He watched me as I finished off my pint. "You drink much more and I'm going to be carrying you home again tonight."

I waggled my eyebrows. "Is that a promise?"

We never did get back to the dance floor that night. Or back to where we'd left off when Angel interrupted. It was probably for the best - my head was spinning and I felt giggly. Spike walked me home after the Bronze closed, and somehow, along the way, we ended up with our hands entwined. It was a comfortable, safe feeling, and I liked it a whole lot. We stopped at the front door.

"You really know how to show a girl a good time," I quipped, giving him a quirky smile.

"Yeah, I'm a real hot date, I am," he answered with a grin.

"Good night, Spike."

"Night... Slayer."

My eyes widened and I gaped at him. I'm sure I did a great approximation of a fish. He just chuckled at my bemusement and leaned in to drop a kiss on my forehead before striding off into the night. I stood and watched him till he disappeared. Well. Knock me over with a feather. My mind took that comment and ran all sorts of interesting places with it.

My reverie was cut short at the sound of a twig snapping out in the shadows, and I became aware of that funny, churning feeling I'm beginning to associate with vampires. One I'd felt earlier tonight, but attributed to another source entirely since I was dancing with a hot blonde at that moment.

"Couldn't wait?" I asked the darkness. Angel moved out of the shadows. What is it with vampires stalking this girl?

"I just needed to make sure that you were really okay, Buffy. You can understand that, can't you?" His eyes begged me to understand. Gah.

"Yes, Angel," I replied with a heavy sigh. "I do." He was here anyway, might as well drop da bomb sooner than later. "Come on in. There are a few things you need to know."

I unlocked the door and he trailed in after me. I found the front room occupied by Willow and Tara, who had been talking. While snuggled up pretty close. It was sweet to see. They both piped up with a hello, only to stop and gawk when Angel walked in the room.

Willow and Angel exchanged inanities while I slipped upstairs to use the bathroom and change. I peaked in on Dawn and then headed back downstairs to find all three of them waiting expectantly in the front room. I was starting to think I should have just made a recording and handed it out - I was getting sick of telling the story. At least it was 2 birds with one stone. It was quicker this time. I left out the parts about Buffy and Spike's extracurricular activities. I figured that, like Xander, it was something Angel really didn't need to know. Telling Willow had been petty on my part, but I figured that Buffy would have told her eventually anyway. And I got the sense that this Tara also knew.

The explaining of the weirdness brought me back to Spike's discovery.

"He spotted a surveillance camera hidden up on a power pole," I informed them. "That means their hidey-hole is in that area. I was thinking maybe you could do some hacker style magic and break into their system."

Her face lit. "Backtrack them! Oh, I can do that! I just need my laptop, a scanner, my decryption software..." She nodded. "We can do it tomorrow."

"Alrighty then. I'm going to crash. I am so bagged." I yawned hugely. "This vampire slaying shit? Not for me, man. It is way too hard on a person. I don't know how that girl copes." It was sad really, because even as I said it, I knew the answer. She didn't cope. She denied, ignored, repressed and pretended. The life of a Slayer was one guaranteed to drive you into therapy for posttraumatic stress disorder. Somehow, I didn't think the Council of Wankers provided any kind of counseling services. Slayers were rarely around long enough to require such things.

I headed up the stairs without another word, and left Willow and Angel to hash out tomorrow's plan of attack. I climbed between the crisp sheets of Buffy's bed was asleep before my head hit the pillow.