So this was Wolfram & Hart's famous annual Halloween bash. Lisa lurked in a corner with her hand clutched firmly around her drink, while she disapprovingly watched the whole scenery. Obviously she wasn't the only one who thought this party was an absolute waste of time. The dance floor was completely empty, except for Harmony who was happily jumping around, seductively swinging her hips in her - for Lisa's taste - a little bit too tight pink glitter dress. Fred and Wesley were standing in a dark corner with long faces, chatting quietly with each other. The word 'wallflowers' suddenly flashed before her eye. She smiled to herself and waved at them as a greeting. After a while looking at the party guests lost its fascination. The young woman blankly stared ahead, dreaming of a quiet evening cuddled up in front of the TV with a glass of red wine. She would have almost spilled her whiskey over her new black dress when Lorne popped up in front of her.

"Oh, honey you are almost as frosty as the ice cubes in your glass. It wouldn't hurt if you showed a little feeling now and then. Come on, give us a smile," the green demon looked at her imploringly.

Lisa forced herself to flash a grin at Lorne. Despite his annoying cheerfulness she somehow liked him.

"That's much better," he said approvingly and touched glasses with her, before he strode off to 'mingle with the crowd', as he called it.

Seconds later a familiar tingle in the pit of her stomach claimed her immediate attention. "So, why are you here?" she asked without bothering to turn around, since she already knew who it was.

"Honestly, I don't know. I guess I wanted to see old Captain Forehead do his butt kissing routine. Figured it be a blast," a hint of amusement was clearly audible in Spike's voice. "You?"

"Well," she looked down on her glass, "for the drinks, mostly."

"Bloody good reason if you ask me."

"Yeah! Oh, would you please look at that! The crowd is already going wild," Lisa commented dryly, cringing her nose as she watched Harmony gyrate.

Soft laughter could be heard from beside her.

They stood there for a while in companionable silence. "So what about we torture ourselves for another half an hour and than head off?"

"Movie? Your office?" he agreed, nodding his head vigorously.

"Yeah, plus you can watch me get drunk and pity myself," the young woman smirked sarcastically.

"Well, thank God, finally something to look forward to," Spike answered, grinning at her.

She giggled in response. Lisa eyes widened in surprise. She clasped her hand over mouth immediately. Strange! Why had she just behaved like that? She wasn't the giggling type. Maybe, the alcohol was to blame for that.

"Well, I'll go and take in the complete misery of this...party or whatever the bleeding hell it is. See, you later, pet." Spike announced and strode off.

"Yeah, have fun!" she called after him.

Then someone bumped into her. A cascade of whiskey rained down on her new dress and the glass exploded into tiny pieces as it hit the floor.

"I'm terribly sh... shoorry," a totally drunken Fred slurred, leaning on Wesley for support.

Lisa suddenly felt anger bubble up inside of her. She didn't know exactly why it happened, but at this point it wasn't like as if she actually cared. Normally this incident would have only inspired her to shrug and dismiss the whole situation with a flippant wave of her hand, but now her rage suddenly burst out of her like a hot geyser. "The fact that you're sorry doesn't change anything! This dress is ruined! Damn it!" she screamed at the other woman, who flinched in surprise, while Wesley silently observed the whole scene in drunken bafflement.

Lisa grabbed a napkin and tried to clean off her dress, which was, of course, absolutely pointless. "See! Just as I said!" she hissed rubbing at the stains desperately. "Absolutely ruined!"

"There'sssss no need to sh...scream at Fred," Wesley finally decided to speak up.

Lisa's eyes reduced to malicious little slits. "Really? You think so?" her gaze shot daggers at them.

"Yesss," he tried to assume some authority – at least as much as it was possible in his state. Oddly enough it worked. Lisa suddenly realized that she had been much too hard on Fred. "You're right," she hung her head.

Her anger had finally dissipated and now she felt bad about the fact that she had screamed at Fred. "I'm terrible sorry," she gripped the other woman's arm looking at her pleadingly, "Can you please forgive me? My behaviour was absolutely out of line."

"Hey, lighten up, sis" the young scientist swayed like blade of grass in a mild breeze, "everything' sss all right. Have another drink and don't worry. I'll be fffine 'cos I'm with my good buddy Wesley and... ...and... this party is marvel...marvellous," and with that the drunken duo was gone, taking an odd zigzag course through the crowd.

'Wait a minute. Something is wrong here', Lisa thought while she watched the twosome head off. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. Fred and Wesley couldn't be drunk. It wasn't possible since they had been completely sober only seconds ago when she said hello to them. And what about her sudden outburst? She didn't recognize herself anymore.

Lisa blinked a few times as if she was slowly waking up from a dream. She gulped, still feeling a knot in her throat, an uncomfortable reminder of the brief dispute that had arose only seconds ago between her and the young scientist. What had just happened? She felt like her emotions were totally out of control. One minute she was angry and the next she was overflowing with remorse. Lisa wasn't used to the violent force with which she was now exposed to her own feelings. Normally she briefly felt them stir beneath the though persona she had forced herself to become and now they had totally broken loose like a wild dog from a leash. The young woman started to get worried. Only this time it was not the sentiment she thought she knew all too well. It wasn't the kind of uncomfortable thought that briefly surfaces from the depths of your subconscious and you can easily get rid off. No, what she experienced right then and there was much worse. Lisa felt some sort of disturbing terror reach out inside of her and clasp its filthy claws around her heart which immediately sped up its rhythm as of it wanted to escape its frightening gasp. She had to find somebody to help her. Something was going on! But who could she talk to? Maybe, Angel. Yes, definitely Angel! She had to find him. Now! Her eyes nervously searched the room. Somehow the hall had magically filled up in the last few minutes. Demons with horns, standing in a corner looking around as if they were suspecting an attack any minute now, lawyers, more lawyers, clients – the rich and beautiful variety – and finally Angel. He was talking to, no wait; make that kissing, a girl and dragging her into his office. Shortly after the door was slammed shut behind them. By a wild guess this meant she could write off his help.

There was only one other person she would go for help to now – Spike. She him spotted quickly, standing in a corner talking to Fred, Wesley and Gunn – his peroxide blond hair was hard to miss even in a crowd that big. She circumstantially made her way across the dance floor, which was by now crammed full with people. Her panic was giving her extra speed. She had finally made it, though not without some angry elbows rammed into her ribs, but she had barely noticed them at all.

"I need help! Please! Somebody help me! Something's terribly wrong!" she exclaimed with a slightly trembling voice.

Before anybody could answer her, Spike cut in. "Pet, how wonderful to see you! If been waiting all evening to dance with you," Spike flashed a happy grin at her.

The effect of his presence suddenly hit her with the impact of a meteorite. Gone was her panic, driven away by another feeling much stronger than the one she had experienced before. She felt her knees turn into jelly under his gaze. 'Great! The only thing missing now is you starting to blush like an infatuated school girl,' her inner voice scolded her.

Lisa felt the heat creep up her cheeks and she could tell that by now she had to be at least beat red, which was bound to make up for a rather dramatic effect with her fair skin and dark hair. Then her hormonally clouded brain registered something. This wasn't the Spike she knew! He never was that...she looked at him searching for words to describe his state...disgustingly chipper.

"Are you alright, Spike?" she asked timidly, looking at him as if she expected him to explode into fuzzy pink astral dust any second now. What would she do if something happened to him?

"I'm fine. In fact, I never felt better in my whole...ohm...un-life," he answered smiling like a gigantic Cheshire Cat.

"There's something wrong with him!" she called out in terror.

"Yes, and he's not the only one," Gunn announced, stepping from one foot on the other as if he was a little boy who urgently needed to go to the toilet.

"It's Lorne. He must have done something. He had his sleep removed," he indicated the green demon who stood a few feet from them.

"What's with me, kittens?" Lorne asked with a grin on his face, turning around as he had picked up his name. He was completely out of breath from dancing all night long.

They grabbed Lorne and dragged the protesting demon into Angel's office. While the door swung open Lisa suddenly remember why it was probably not the best of ideas to go in there. Startled by the noise of the sudden commotion Angel's and Eve's heads appeared from behind the sofa, both of them were completely nude and sweaty.

Spike decided to comment the obvious, "Hey! Angel's getting some! Good on you, mate!"

Lisa tried to suppress a gigantic grin, but somehow she didn't manage to and finally ended up laughing out loud, which earned her some disapproving glares. "Sorry," she managed to get out in between giggles, "Just try to ignore me, okay?" She tried to focus on how serious their whole situation was and after a while her laughing fits finally dissipated and made room to a general feeling of concern. "What is going on?" she asked after a while – her frail voice expressing perfectly her state of utter preoccupation.

In the midst of the general confusion finally one think led to another and Wesley, though drunker than a sailor during land leave, figured out what this was all about.
"It is Lorne. Every he told us to do we're doing. Spike's thinking positive; Gunn is peeing all over the office..."

"And werrre a little bit drunk," Fred added.

"Yes, but not because we drank, but because Lorne told us to be drunk," Wesley pointed out.

"Yeah, that makes sense," Lisa muttered to herself, slowly realizing what was happening to her. "He also told me to let my feelings show."

She suddenly felt the overwhelming desire to leave, which was actually not uncalled for, as her feelings were completely exposed. They lay open and were completely unprotected. The outer hull had been torn away and what was left was the soft and fragile core. Nobody should be able to see her like that. Hell, not even she wanted to see herself like that! It was just unnatural. So, of course, Lisa was rather anxious to get out of this office.

"Wes, Fred, go find Lorne's sleep..." Angel started to give out orders.

"Sir," Lisa cut in quickly, "Do you mind if I leave? Since I can't do anything to help..."

He briefly considered her request. "Alright, go! And on a second thought – take Spike with you. We don't need any voyeurs around here," Angel shot a lusty sideways glance at Eve.

Lisa nodded, wisely ignoring the hungry gazes both of them were giving each other.

Lisa was not too anxious about having anybody witness her current state. As a matter of fact it was absolutely humiliating; but lesser spectators of her grotesque emotional rollercoaster the better. She'd rather spent the next view hours – if it actually took that long to solve this problem - alone with Spike, than with a room full of people, some of which were her direct superiors. Lisa skipped out of the still open doors as soon as the words had left Angel's mouth, not bothering to look left or right. She just wanted to reach the shelter of her office as quickly as possible. When she finally did, Lisa felt relieve wash over her, which was actually a rather pleasant experience. Then a thought struck her. "Spike?"

"Yeah," he was still wearing that disgustingly cheerful grin on his face. If it wasn't going to disappear anytime soon, she would probably start to dislike him – well, more than usually.

"I know it's probably a lot to ask, but please do me a favour and don't talk to me in the next couple of minutes."

"Oh, why is that?" he asked curiously looking like a child who had just been told to sit still.

"Because, I feel really silly having those outbursts all the time. So, I figured if you don't talk to me we can diminish the risk of them appearing every five seconds," he had forced her to point out the obvious. Her voice was seething with annoyance.

"I'm sorry," Lisa added in an afterthought. She hadn't wanted to come of this unkind. "This is just very hard," she admitted after a while.

"Oh, come on don't you be so unconstructive. We could use the time to get to know each other a little bit better. Don't you think?"

"No, I don't think so at all!" she hissed between clenched teeth. Lisa abruptly turned her back to him and walked up to the window, signalling clearly that the discussion was over for her.

"You're not telling me something. Don't you think we can find a solution together?" Lisa buried her head in her hands. His chipper positivism was so exhausting.

"You're sounding like a social worker. Just stop it, okay?"

"A social worker? You're bloody damn right, you are. But that's something good, right? They're a nice punch of folks. Help a lot..."

"Shut up, please!" her voice was a frail trembling plea for mercy.

"You know if you talked to somebody about it, you would probably feel better...," she saw his reflection hover next to hers in the window glass. It got misty as the tears formed in her eyes. She hadn't cried in years. With all the strength she had inside of her she tried to postpone the inevitable. She would not cry. It couldn't happen. She wouldn't allow it. But just to ridicule her- it seemed - the first drop of salt water ran down her cheek.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "It didn't want you to see this. I'm just pathetic, really."

"Your not pathetic, love," his soft voice said beside her. A strangled laugh escaped her throat. He really thought that he could brush aside a life filled with doubts and disappointments with just a few kind words?

"Is there something I can...I there something I can do?" Spike asked hesitantly. He didn't seem to be used to that kind of situation.

"Is there something you can do?" she repeated, lost in thoughts.

"No I don't think you can do something about the fact that I'm a complete failure," she paused trying to catch her breath. The tears were now running freely. She had finally given up the futile attempt to fight them back. In the depths of her soul a feeling of discontent stirred that had been suppressed for too long. She had locked it up in a cell, behind an iron door and thrown away the key, but now it broke free and made his existence notable by forcing her to speak words she had held back for so long. They were rolling from the tip of her tongue without her being able to stop them.

"There are times when I feel like the complete useless and other times I can convince myself to drag myself just a few more years through this sad little life. I can't change anything, I can't help. I can't even be a normal person." She ran her hands through her hair. "I don't even know why I'm telling you all this." Lisa studied his reflection in the window, not daring to look at him directly. He probably found her whole outburst utterly disgusting.

"Maybe, because I'm your friend," something in the way he said it let her turn her head.

"You're my friend?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes, and I don't think you're a failure," he admitted.

"Yes, that's because you barely know me," she laughed humourlessly, turning back her head towards the window. He honoured her comment with a disapproving look.

"There were times when I was different. When I still thought I could change the world. I cared; I actually cared so much it hurt. I guess I've always been someone who can't settle for doing something half-heartedly," the corner of her mouth briefly twitched to an ironic smile, while she continued talking to Spike's reflection, "When I loved I did it with all of my heart, when I hurt, I hurt like hell. But that's no way to live, is it?"

"Is there any other way?" he asked. A hint of melancholy was audible in his words.

"What do you know about it?" the question sounded harsh, but the tone of her voice was soft and vulnerable.

"A lot more than you could imagine, pet. Guess that's what got me into this mess, in the first place." Spike sighed, referring to his current non-corporeal state. He suddenly looked very tired, as if the weight of centuries was pressing down on him.
"No matter how sorry we are for ourselves...we are what we are. We can't change that," Spike added after a while.

She hung her head. She knew all to well that she couldn't change who she was. No matter how many 'disguises' she wore, no matter how hard she pretended to be somebody else, inside she would always be the same.

Spike stepped closer so they were standing next to each other, only inches apart. Minutes passed without any of them speaking.

"All those shiny little lights out there..." he finally said referring to the skyline of Los Angeles that glittered below them like diamonds strewn on a black velvet scarf. "We tend to look at them for a little while, but somehow our eyes always wander up there," he pointed at the stars that twinkled in the clear night sky. "Because they burn with such a hot fire we can see them across the oceans of time, across thousands of miles, even across different galaxies. And every time we look we start dreaming and lose ourselves this vast infiniteness."

"Truly poetic," she managed a lopsided grin.

He chuckled to himself in amusement, "Yes, I guess so."

Her tears were slowly subsiding. In a way she felt comforted, though her situation hadn't changed much. It had simply felt good talking to somebody.

"Thank you," she said after a while.

"Don't mention it, pet," Lisa would have almost screamed in surprise when she felt him touch her hand. He gave it a brief an affectionate squeeze and then let go again.

"How were you able to do that? I mean you're a ghost..."

He grinned boyishly, scratching the back of his neck, "Yeah, but I have my ways...Well, if I want to do something bad enough... I can you know...touch things."

She smiled at him for the first time since they met and he couldn't help but mirror her expression. Then the phone rang and the moment passed. It was Wesley, telling them that the situation was now under control.