A/N: The song used is Semi-Charmed Life by Third Eye Blind

Big thanks to Geliot99!

"Come along, Slayer, we're burnin' starlight."

Buffy rolled her eyes at Spike's obvious enthusiasm, the prospect of violence driving him ahead of her like a kid at the zoo eager to see the lions. She'd been home for less than a full day when Giles called, insistent that she take Spike with her on patrol. Apparently, the bleached menace had been going stir-crazy (and taking Giles along with him) ever since his guitar-demolishing revelation.

Just what I need… Buffy grumbled inwardly as they made their way to the back entrance of the Bronze. It was nearly closing time, the time of night when the vamps playing with their food typically liked to strike.

There was a small crowd clustered around the alley door, canned music from the house DJ poured outside and it took Buffy to recognize it as one she'd danced to but didn't know the name of and always referred to it as "The Do-do-do song" in her head.

A couple of guys from the club passed the group to deposit band equipment in the awaiting van before slipping back inside leaving the door open. The crowd by the door seemed to consist of the guys in the band that had played earlier in the evening and a few swooning hopefuls.

"Well now what do we have here, Luv, a gaggle of high school chits looking for a little VIP treatment?" Spike drawled, casting a glance back at her as he approached the crowd and the song broke into the chorus

"…We give 'em the games to play, she said,

'I want somethin' else

To get me through this semi-charmed kinda life…"

Warning tingles prickled the back of Buffy's neck, her hand tightened on the stake held at her side.

"Suppose this is the point where anyone with a pulse oughtta be scampering away like scared bunnies," Spike said, addressing the girls shamelessly flirting with the band.

He cast Buffy a side glance as though to make sure he'd said the right thing, because honestly, chasing food away went against his every instinct. But then again he wasn't fond of having his brain fried from the inside. So, in interest of self preservation (and elevating Buffy's opinion of him a few degrees) he figured he'd try donning a white hat for the evening.

After all, he was nothing if not adaptable.

"…'Baby, baby, I want somethin' else

I'm not listenin' when you say…"

One of the girls opened her mouth to protest and Spike let his face shift. "Run along now, ladies, we've got business with the boys in the band."

The girl's bolted.

"'Goodbye'…"

Buffy took a fighting stance, eyeing the band now in full game face and cast a distrustful glance at Spike. His replying smirk did nothing to assure her of his trustworthiness. She might have lingered on it longer if Spike hadn't chosen that moment to attack. The first vamp, already crumbling as she joined in, music still playing in the background.

"Do-do-do, do-do-do-do…"

One down, three to go— two… She corrected, pulling back her stake.

"Do-do-do, do-do-do-do…"

Spike grabbed a set of drumsticks from the waistband of the third and promptly used them to finish the drummer. The last one tried to run for the front of the van, frantically patting his pockets in search of the keys. He never had a chance.

"Do-do-do, do-do-do-do

Do-do-do…"

The entire fight had only lasted a few seconds, but when Buffy turned around, Spike wasn't where she'd left him.

Shit…

Her heart jumped into her throat a second later when the van rocked and Spike jumped out the back with a triumphant whoop.

"What the hell were you doing in there?" Buffy demanded, pushing the van door shut. She faltered slightly when Spike spun on his heel to face her, a bright red electric guitar clutched in his hands and a wide grin plastered to his face.

"You gotta be kidding?"

"Oh don't pout, I've earned it."

She gave him a dubious glare, unable to argue the point with any real conviction. "I'm pretty sure that's technically Giles' since you busted his."

"Nonsense, that was a dinged up acoustic; this beauty is a different animal altogether," he said as he slipped the guitar's strap over his head. "Besides, saved his poncy ass—he should owe me, if anything."

"You're camping on his couch rent free!" Buffy bristled angrily.

"Not free if I'm doing Slayer work, now is it?" he drawled, digging into his pocket for a cigarette and placed it between his lips.

Buffy grabbed his bicep, dragging him with her toward the sidewalk out front.

"Oi! Watch it!"

"You're only out here because you're about a thousand times more annoying sitting around eating peanut butter and complaining and—whatever the hell else you're doing because you're bored out of your mind. And okay, fine, it's good you figured out the demon killing thing, I guess… but that's it! That's the reason you're here, 'doing Slayer work'!"

Spike jerked his arm away, and adjusted his duster and the guitar strap around his neck. "Well yeah… I admit, palling around with your perky little self ain't nearly as bad as I thought it'd be," he replied, giving her a flirtatious smirk. "Might find I'm a good fit if you'd give me a try."

Buffy's eyes bulged. "W-what?!"

"In your little group, Pet—fighting the good fight. Unless you got something better in mind."