Chapter 13: Early Morning Blues.

It was 2 am, and the Dingo's had finished their last song several hours ago. Spike had found the whole evening somewhat bittersweet. His mind kept going back to his argument with Buffy. Curse his bloody temper. The whole day his friends had tried to take his mind off it, but he had insisted on dealing with his problems the only way he knew how, getting blind drunk.

"Do you think she'll ever forgive me?" Spike slurred and cocked his head to the left when he got no response, "Willow? Willow?" He poked her in the arm when she didn't respond and her head shot up from its resting place on the bar, "I wasn't asleep!" she yawned defensively.

"Life and soul you are," Spike scoffed at her and signalled the barman for another drink. On his right side Xander stood up, "come on," he announced, "I think it's passed someone's bed time, I'll walk you back."

"I can walk myself back," Spike slurped.

"I meant the girls," Xander replied. He looked round, "where's Cordelia?"

"She's pulled," Spike said gesturing over his shoulder, missing the dejected look on Xander's face.

Across the dance floor, Cordelia was draped over a large mahogany coat stand, trailing one finger down its smooth wooden spine and gazing lustfully under the rim of one of the hats. As Xander approached, she appeared to laugh infectiously.

"May I cut in?" Xander asked, hardly managing to hide his smile.

"Do you mind?" Cordelia slurred, "We were having a conversation."

"I can see that," Xander said, his grin growing wider, "and I'm sure he's a very good listener, but we have to go."

"Why?" Cordelia whined and Xander went to put an arm round her as he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Because people want to get their jackets," he said flashing a smirk.

As he began to lead her back to the bar, Xander turned back and nodded respectfully to the coat stand, "she'll call you." Cordelia thumped him as she buried her face in his chest, utterly mortified. Xander squeezed her tighter, "So what's he got that I don't huh?" he teased, enjoying his rare moment of leverage.

"Well, he's taller for one thing," Cordelia muttered.

Meanwhile at the bar, Spike had passed out, Willow had noticed his head dropping and had been quick enough to move his glass but not the bowl of peanuts, upon which the side of his face now rested. She absentmindedly pattered his back, whispering, "There, there."

Being the only sober one there, Willow offered to walk Cordelia back, after all the hotel was only round the corner, but Xander wouldn't hear of it. With Cordelia propped against his left shoulder, he glanced at the slouched bleached head on the bar, he wasn't going anywhere, if anything Xander hoped he'd stay passed out until he got back.

It was probably about 2.30 when Xander left the girls at the hotel and headed back for Spike. Willow carried Cordelia up to their room, all the while listening to her drunken ramblings. "You know, I don't actually hate you guys, not even Spike but we're related so I have to because it's the rules, but I don't mean half of what I say to you in fact I..." Cordelia didn't get any further as she passed out the minute she hit the bed. Willow smiled. It felt strange to think the two girls had actually had fun this weekend, although it would probably all go back to normal on Monday.

Singing loudly and off key, Xander walked back to the club, hoping to find Spike still slumped on the same bar stool. It must have been about 3am now as the streets were becoming less crowded and so he was concerned when he noticed a petite blonde walking alone just half a block in front of him. He stopped singing, much to the relief of the homeless guy sitting beside him and peered harder. As the figure passed under the light of a lamppost, his suspicions were confirmed, "Buffy?" He called cheerfully. No response. Xander began to jog to catch up with her.

Spike had been woken roughly by the barman, who had laughed at the peanuts clinging to his face like barnacles, and informed that it was closing time. Spike leaned against the wall, seething at the fact he had no fags and he scratched at his arm. These patches were useless. He was only doing this for Buffy, not that she knew. Not that anyone knew. He cursed as he thought of Buffy. That irritating little blonde had come into his life and turned it completely upside down. He used to enjoy smoking, drinking, winding people up, picking fights and now hear he was. Wearing nicotine patches, making polite conversation, worrying about other people's feelings. It was all because of her and he wouldn't have it any other way. Buffy was his best friend.

He began pacing in frustration. This was the first real fight they'd ever had and he hated it. All he wanted to do was find her and apologise. He had tried to call earlier but the guys had intervened, telling him it was best to give her some space. Relenting, he had agreed but that was then. It had been almost 24 hours and he had heard nothing and he couldn't bare this torture any more. He fished about in his pocket and took out his phone. The phone rang and rang. No answer. He grunted and threw his head back. She'd probably be at Angel's, of course he had no idea where that pillock lived, and if he did he'd have introduced him to his fist. It would just have to wait until morning.

As Spike pivoted he spotted a tiny figure heading round the corner across the street. It took him a second longer, in his current state of inebriation, to realise that it was Buffy.

He took note of her form, arms folded, feet dragging and head lolling forwards. She was heading to the curb and it was then that he noticed the car coming from the opposite direction. It was as if it were playing out in slow motion. She stepped into the road, eyes still fixed on the floor. The car rolled forwards. She hadn't seen it. Spike's heart was in his throat. His eyes went wide as he realised what was happening. "Buffy!" he bellowed, as he started to sprint towards her. His heart and head were both pounding. He wasn't going to make it. "Buffy!" He yelled again, hoping against hope that she'd hear him and move out of the way.

As if by a miracle, two arms wrapped around Buffy and pulled her roughly out of harm's way. "Buffy," Xander said his voice raised so he could be heard over the loud, brazen car horn, "its ok… I've gotcha." Buffy felt the tears start again as she tried to process what had just happened.

Spike finally caught up with them, "what the hell Buffy! What were you thinking? Stepping out into the middle of the road..."

"Hey!" Xander shouted at him, "Shout at the girl because that's obviously the best plan," he took a breath and calmed his voice. He saw the look in Spike's eyes, he was only shouting out of shock, "Maybe we should just take her back to the hotel?"