"You can't be serious about this," Xander said. Dawn shot him a glare and he didn't say another word, only looked himself over in the floor to ceiling mirror in front of him. He could hear Willow in the other room, cursing, it must be awful. Dawn busied herself with her shopping bags and Buffy retreated to the bedroom to help Willow. "Wish I really was a vampire," he pouted, "then I couldn't see my miserable reflection".
He and Dawn were alone. Not something he was sure he was comfortable with. She laughed along with him when he said something funny but without any real mirth. The girl was so sad when in his company. How was it that he, Xander Harris, could make one woman so miserable? And she was a woman, wasn't she? Not a little girl anymore; Dawn was a fiercely independent woman, not just Buffy Summer's kid sister.
"Why is leather so in with the undead?" Willow asked. She was wearing skin tight black leather pants with a dark pink and black leather corset. Buffy was beside her clothed in a similar "vampire attire". "Wow," Dawn said to Buffy. To which Buffy replied, "Is it the corset or the fishnets?"
"Everything, I guess," said Dawn. "With the three of you like that," she paused, thinking, "I get this strange sensation, like, things could have turned out this way". Willow smiled knowingly, "But for the grace of the Goddess, right Dawn?" The younger girl nodded and picked up the bag marked with her name, slipping silently into the bedroom. Xander watched her go, and Willow watched Xander watching.
Buffy tugged her knee high boots on and said, "Why did I have to be Victorian Goth again?" Her corset was longer than the one Willow wore and laced tightly up the back. It fanned out over an overly lace covered skirt; all black of course. Black was not Buffy's color.
"Victorian Goth works for you Buffy. You're filled with dark mystery". "Like a frightening glass eyed china doll in period dress, Will?" As her friend rolled her eyes Buffy turned her attention to Xander. "I get a déjà vu when I looked at you, dressed that way, I mean". In his black leather pants, white wife beater, and black leather jacket Xander was the spitting image of a vampire self he had never know. Someone from another world, another dimension, and a place that only Anya Jenkins had seen clearly, and she was dead.
Dawn emerged looked every bit the part. In a black baby doll dress with a full skirt and puff sleeves, fishnets, and black platform boots, she was a gothic image. "I went for that Japanese, Goth girl, Harajuku look." Buffy smiled, "I think you nailed it". "I feel scary," Dawn replied. "I get that," said Buffy, "when you walked out, for a moment, I think I channeled Mom, and she was thinking, 'What's happened to my baby'!" Dawn cracked a smile then and asked, "Where's Angel?"
"Hiding," Xander told them. Angel was mortified, a vampire, an actual vampire being forced to pretend to be human pretending to be a vampire. It was sick and a little avant-garde for his tastes. He heard Willow chanting, "Angel is a scared-y cat". He wanted to eat them all right now, soul be damned, he would drain them dry for putting him through this. Sighing, and finally recognizing defeat he opened the door and wandered into Buffy's quarters.
"I do this under great protest," he stated. "We know," Dawn and Buffy chorused. Xander stood from his seat at the table and pointed to Angel sputtering and gasping like a fish. "What?" Dawn asked. "Why does he get to look so normal?" he finally asked. In black leather pants and a purple button down silk shirt Angel did look pretty normal. "He is already a vampire Xander, he doesn't need to be over the top," Willow told him. "And he's our all access pass into the dark, seedy, underbelly of London's Goth scene," Buffy added. Angel only sighed and sat heavily on the sofa. Dawn turned to him, "You made need to flash some fang at the door". Angel put his hands on his face and mumbled to himself, saying things like, "unbelievable," or, "I'm too old for this".
After being as stealthy as humanly (or in Angel's case vampirely) possible leaving Watcher Headquarters the chosen group found themselves in London's notorious warehouse district. "Oh my," muttered Dawn. The area was dark, as it was close to midnight and the streets were wet from the day's rains. The alley they made their way through smelled like a sewer. "Someone explain to me again the appeal of clubs like this," Buffy questioned. "It's a place to hide from the world," Angel offered.
"Is that music from the club?" Xander asked striding quietly along side Dawn. "Is that English?" Dawn asked in return. They paused to listen, to gather their senses before they came into sight of the club. They could hear the pounding lyrics being repeated over and over, "Du, du hast, du hast mich, du hast mich gefragt, du hast mich gefragt, und ich hab nichts gesagt. Willst dub bis der Tod euch scheidet true ihr sein alle Tage. Nein. Willst dub is zum Tod, der scheide sie lieben auch in schlechten Tagen. Nein".
"It's German, he's been asked something," Angel said and Willow nodded her agreement, "Something about dying I think. German isn't one of my best languages," she told them. "It's Rammstein," Buffy replied with confidence, "Du Hast," they looked at her puzzled, "is the name of the song," she continued. When they still stared Buffy sighed in exasperation, which was difficult in a corset and threw her hands in the air, "What? I can't have layers?" Everyone looked away but no one missed Dawn mumble under her breathe, "Spike layers".
Buffy let it go. It hurt, Dawn knew it would but she had said it anyway. She knew where her sister had heard a band like this and it was not on Sunnydale radio. Sunnydale, she sighed, not something she thought about too often. Her heart was still bruised from that day, which seemed like a lifetime ago. They had lost their mother, and their home, and everything they knew that day. And Buffy had lost Spike, who was finally beginning to grow on Dawn again. Buffy wasn't over it, Dawn knew, even if the others couldn't see it or ignored it, she saw the pain in her sister's eyes; that world weariness that comes with losing the one that you love the most. First it had been their mother and then it was Spike, the Summer's girls always seemed to lose the people they depended on the most.
"I guess we should make an appearance," Xander offered, breaking the silence that had fallen upon the group. "Sorry," Willow apologized looking wistfully at her friends, "I was having Bronze nostalgia". Buffy hugged her briefly even though it was difficult with them both wearing restrictive leather corsets, "We all miss it Will. But we have a mission; the mission is what matters". And with their renewed senses of self the Scooby's set out on their quest and into the music filled streets in front of "Corruption".
As they made their way toward the entrance, which was with out a bouncer of any kind, Willow remarked, "So, they aren't selective about who they let in?" As Dawn came up beside her she continued Willow's train of thought, "And there is no cover charge?" Angel had now assumed he would no longer need to "flash some fang" as Dawn so often put it but before the thought was entirely out of his mouth, the girl in question said only a cryptic, "We'll see".
Buffy, who by now had caught on to what her sister and Willow were getting at turned to Angel, asking him, "Can you catch the scent of any vampires, besides yourself, of course?" But he only shrugged his large shoulders in defeat, "This is the perfect place for vampires to hunt and keep away from the prying eyes of people like slayers. The only smells I can pick up on here are cigarette smoke, sweat, and lust". "Lust?" Dawn squeaked.
When Angel nodded her mind began to race. Could all vampires smell things such as lust? Could they smell things like longing or hope, as well as fear? How did she smell when she looked at Xander? Angel could have noticed a distinct change in her smell whenever the big brother type was in the room, and if that was the case, he would know. What if he told Buffy? Would she be angry? Dawn wasn't trying to steal someone for Buffy, she didn't need him all to herself, but she yearned for him. Longed to feel his hands running down, she stopped in her train of thought abruptly. Could Angel smell it on her now, even with the swell of bodies so near by? It was best to drop it.
The strobe lights were near blinding as Buffy entered the club. She could feel her senses tingling as they so often did when a vampire was near. She had long ago tuned out the vibrations of Angel's demon so she knew someone or something else was near by.
For the past month or so she had the continual feeling that she was being watched. She had almost caught the stalker out of the corner of her eye on more than one occasion. If only time made vampires more intelligent; really, as they got older they got more careless and conceited in their own skills. Perhaps he had wanted to be seen but she doubted that very much as he had yet to announce his presence to her. How could he think she wouldn't know? But she would play his game as long as was necessary, until he was comfortable enough to show himself. She had however warned Faith that if a potential so much as pointed a look in his direction, that girl would be finding a new home in the old dungeon.
"This is a perfect atmosphere for vampires," Dawn whispered into Willows ear. They tried to blend but found themselves stiff and uncomfortable in this kind of place. "I'm out of touch," Willow told Dawn as she adjusted her tight leather pants, "I never fit in with the cool crown, but this is even worse". Dawn winked and said, "You just leave that to me," before she disappeared into the human crush.
Xander suddenly emerged to grab Willow by the hand and pull her into the swell of flesh around them, "Table!" he yelled. Buffy was already seated on a bar stool, legs crossed, and fiddling with her long blonde hair. Willow had to admit, Buffy could fit in anywhere she wanted to, she was a gothic princess and Willow was still a nerd in new clothes. Oh well, she thought, Buffy couldn't translate Latin.
Buffy offered her seat to Willow saying she was going to try and find Dawn and Angel. "At the bar," Xander bellowed from behind. Swaying a little, trying to catch the beat of the newest industrial rock song to blast through the system, Buffy saw them. Dawn was raising her fist into the air and yelling things like, "bloody hell", "bollocks" and "fuck," that was Dawn Summers, W.I.T. extraordinaire for you.
"He won't serve us," Dawn screamed as her sister approached. "No need to yell!" Buffy told her, "I'm right here". "Sorry," was her reply, "he won't serve us," she said again in a lower tone and added, "'cause I don't have big fake tits pushed up in a bloody tube top". Angel bit his lip, hard, trying to keep his laughter at the situation in, maybe tonight wasn't going to be so awful, at least it could be amusing.
"Angel," Buffy said, fluttering her eyelashes at him, like she needed to, "could you help us out with the drinks". With a sigh and nod he turned to the barkeep, growled, and when he had the man's attention he slipped into game face. Every inch of exposed skin this guy had was covered in either a piercing or a tattoo, at any other time he might have even been frightening, but tonight as he gasped and dropped a pint of beer onto the floor he looked like a school boy. Dawn leaned into Angel on his right and Buffy did the same on his left, he put his arms around them and started to rattle off a list of drinks. Even in a place like Corruption, where the bartender had seen a lot of fucked up things, he rarely saw a real vampire, let alone one with two beautiful little Goth girls (sisters?) pressed up against him. The drinks would obviously be on the house for this crew.
As the trio made their way back to the table Xander had procured, with some help, again, from Angel's fangs, Dawn was practically skipping. "That was amazing. Fang. Drink! Just like that!" she turned to her sister, "Buffy, can I have fangs too?" To which her sister replied, "I don't think Watcher dental coverage covers the cost of getting your teeth filed down to points. Besides, you wouldn't have the bumpies". "Fuck," was all Dawn said as she took her seat.
Dawn was being watched but she did not have Buffy's senses. She hadn't seen him; he wasn't even sure if Buffy had. She certainly hadn't glanced twice, just kept on her way, shaking her head like she was trying to wake up from a bad dream. Dawn was a grown up now, a real woman but in so many ways she was still the girl he knew. She cursed like a sailor but clung to her sister like she was a life preserver. She knew which features to play up, she knew what men wanted but she still had that crush on Xander, and the ponce still didn't know. She was so proper normally but still skipped around like a teeny bopper when she was happy. Yes, she was still the Bit.
The drinks had arrived and Willow smiled at Xander. They had been discussing how much like the Bronze this was, when in reality they knew it was nothing like the old club back home. But then again, it didn't need to be the same, only to evoke the same feeling. Willow ignored the leather, and the black, and the piercing and tattoos, she ignored the industrial rock and the strobe lights, she only saw the dancing, and the happy people, and the old gang around the table. She sounded so old, even to her self, oh well, "To vampires," she said throwing back a glowing green shot.
Angel and Xander sipped their beers, keeping their eyes open for any kind of demonic or vampire-like behavior, but thus far had noticed zip. The ladies had offered to get a better scope of the situation from the dance floor, or so they told them. To Xander it just looked like a guise, a way for them to cut loose and enjoy themselves. Something too rare to the Scooby's these days; he didn't have the heart to deny them their lie. Angel tapped his arm and gestured toward the bar; Xander's immediate reaction was, "Vamps?" he reached for a stake. The other man shook his head no and gestured again; there, by the bar were two very attractive women using razors to cut each other's arms, they then followed this up by lapping at the blood and giggling.
"This isn't a vampire club," Angel said sagely, "These are children playing make believe. I've seen it in Sunnydale, and LA, and a million other places. I don't think we're going to find anything tonight, not here". Xander nodded, transfixed but obviously trying to formulate a thought, "Should I collect the girls?" Angel looked out onto the dance floor where Dawn and Buffy were wrapped in each other's arms taking another test tube shot and said, "Nah. Something could happen".
Dawn was drunk. This was fact. Buffy knew it; her eyes were glassy, her speech slurred, and her dancing ever more seductive. Willow continued to glance sideways at Dawn as she shimmed behind Buffy, throwing her head back. "Are you checking out my sister," Buffy asked Willow with a smile. "What? I," she paused, "What? No!"
With an ashamed Willow in tow the girls returned to their table and waiting companions. Buffy slumped into her chair, "We're not going to find anything tonight," she grunted. Her feet were killing her. How did these girls do this night after night? And she was a slayer for fuck's sake! Dawn was whispering in Xander's ear, his face was flush. "Dawn," he said warningly, "You're drunk". She nodded. Buffy's interest was peaked, as were Willow and Angel's. The youngest Summer's draped her hand across Xander's lap and whispered something else. Buffy couldn't make it out over the ever increasing pumping of the sound system.
Xander pleaded with Buffy to pull her sister away from him, that this wasn't fair. But Dawn would not budge and really, Buffy was enjoying watching Xander squirm. Until Dawn said aloud, "I could flash you some tit. How about that?" she stopped to twirl a strand of thick brown hair around her finger then continued to everyone's embarrassment, "I'll show you mine, and you show me yours".
Buffy's drink was everywhere, including on Angel's face, where she had sprayed a liberal amount. "Dawn Summers!" was all that came out of her mouth. Willow was worrying her bottom lip and looked flushed with color, "Buffy, I don't think she knows what she's saying". But Dawn spoke up, "I do! Grown woman here," she pointed to herself then pointed to Angel who frowned at being singled out, "Angel got to flash some fang! Why can't I flash something?" "Oh god," was the only reply and it came from Xander.
As the quarrel escalated Buffy felt it again, the tingle, the pull at her spine. That some old feeling that made her panties, or knickers, wet every time. She slipped away from the table as Dawn offered up yet another reason why the very frustrated Xander should want to look at her bare breasts. She made a mental note; Dawn is a bad drunk. Another inherited trait from her big sister she wondered?
It was obvious that he would follow her. The door had barely closed on the alleyway when she felt him. He was on the other side of the door, most likely wondering why she was out there, listening for her breathing, straining to hear if there was anyone or thing out there with her.
Angel hadn't mentioned Spike, not since he first came to England, and even then it had only been a passing comment regarding her choosing him as her champion rather than Angel. In the din, among the human mass, she assumed Angel couldn't have picked him out. He couldn't have sensed him, not like she sensed him. Buffy could feel Spike's closeness even though the steel door. It was killing her. She willed him to come to her, repeating in her mind, "I still want you".
Did she dare to speak, acknowledge that she knew he was there? Would he run like a frightened child, like the crazed man she had found living in the Sunnydale High School basement? Perhaps he would come to her. She really didn't have anything to lose; she knew he could never truly abandon her.
So, yes, she dared, "Spike?" she asked the night, "Come out, come out, wherever you are," she added playfully. The door creaked, she held her breath. As he slipped out into the night she gasped; she strained to see him through the din of the hour, she wanted to absorb him, to know each inch of him again. Buffy wanted to say something witty or thoughtful, something she could be remembered for but when she opened her mouth the only thing that came out was, "Hi".
He stared at her, but he remained silent so she pressed on, "You're here". Spike opened his mouth then shut it again and closed his eyes. He stayed like that and Buffy moved ever closer to him; she placed her small hand over his dead, un-beating heart and waited. Finally, with his eyes still closed he spoke, "I'm alive". And Buffy's simple reply was, "I know".