NOT SPUFFY... DO NOT READ AND THEN COMPLAIN LATER... YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED...

Saturday, April 26th, 2003

"Spike, are you decent down there?" the slayer called down before she braved the stairs into the cellar.

"Regrettably so," answered the vampire before adding a small proviso. "Of course, if by that, you mean do I have any clothes on, then I'm afraid my answer might be slightly different."

The slayer rolled her eyes but continued her descent regardless. When she got downstairs she scanned the room until she spotted Spike's jeans in a heap on the floor. Throwing them over to the blond, who had his sheet draped so that it covered everything from the waist down, she let her gaze travel the forbidden planes of his chest before her normal acerbic wit returned.

"I guess I'm just lucky you're not making time with the slutty slayer and you're awake. You're the only person I know where the instant he falls asleep, all the bedclothes just happen to arrange themselves so that the only thing they actually hide is his dick. You do know that Anya took Polaroids that day when she was supposed to be watching you and you were sleeping in Xander's unfeasibly huge cupboard. She's been selling them on eBay."

Spike shrugged. "Can't really grudge her that seein' as how she hasn't had a job for the last god knows how long. And as for the rest, I reckon that's the only time I'm likely to hear Xander and the phrase unfeasibly large in the same sentence. well, unless someone was talking about his stomach."

"Ha, ha. Make fun of the visually handicapped guy."

"Actually, I was making fun of the fat guy who generally acts like an obnoxious jerk every time I'm in the room, the fact that he's half blind is neither here nor there."

"Cut the hilarity and get dressed. As soon as it's safe for you to be out, I'm going to need you out with me looking for Dawn."

Spike sighed. "Bit's gone missing again?"

"She didn't come home from school."

This earned the slayer a scornful glance. "And you've only just noticed?"

"With this many teenage girls around the place how was I supposed to miss just one. Nobody else noticed she wasn't there either."

"And if this was Friday teatime, then I could see your point, but seein' as it's Saturday, I'm kind of inclined to say that's no excuse."

"Does it matter? As far as she knows we've been looking for her for days. She doesn't need to know we didn't miss her."

"And you're sure she isn't just at some sleepover at Janice's or Kit's or wherever, where she only has to share a bed with one other person rather than three."

"Coming from the only person in this house who has an actual bed and gets to sleep alone."

"'S not like I said Faith wasn't welcome to share."

"Faith? You'd share with Faith? It was all about having another slayer wasn't it."

"No, it was all about you screwin' me around every which way you could, and far as I can tell, that's still all you're interested in. Least ways with Faith, we could shag each other's brains out and still look each other in the eye in the morning.

You don't want me. You just don't want anybody else to want me or me to have anybody else. You say you're not ready to be without me, but you've never given me one reason why I should want to stay. I'm not some fuckin' safety net you can keep around and dust off when you decide that you're not going to get someone better. Before the soul, yeah, you got away with it, but like I said, not all hugs and puppies."

Bereft of any real reply, Buffy merely snorted and started to climb the stairs again. "Five minutes. In the kitchen." When she had gone, Spike debated the merits of spending those five minutes trying to get back to sleep. That was how he spent most of his daylight hours these days. I mean, it's not like he could go traipsing all round the house like the rest of them. The least they could have done was give him a telly, but no. Just 'here's your kennel, Spike. Stay like a good doggy.' 'Fetch the Bit, Spike.' 'Sit, Spike.' 'Wag your tail for the nice slayer, Spike.' Yeah, you wish.

He pulled on his jeans, resigned to his fate, and wandered upstairs with two minutes to spare. Just to annoy the slayer he spent these minutes nuking some blood in the microwave and drinking it down. Meanwhile, Buffy paced and looked repeatedly at her wrist where a watch would have been had she ever worn one.

"Nobody stopping you from goin' out on your own, you know. I mean it's not like the Bit actually talks to me these days. Hasn't spoken two words to me since that time she threatened to set me on fire. You should know where she'd go better than I do."

"Like you can't hear her when she's with the rest of them."

"Not when I'm asleep I can't," the vampire retorted. "Have you rung round her friends' houses, yet?"

Buffy looked slightly shame-faced. "Well, you know how I asked her to pal around with that girl that got killed. Well, her other friends got kind of pissed when she just started hanging round with her all the time, and then it turned into this whole, I'm not going to ring them first thing."

"What you're saying is that thanks to you she doesn't have any friends."

"Well, she gets to hang with us and with the potentials."

"Great, so she gets to hang around on the fringes of this whole girls' army thing that she can never be a part of, or she can spend her evenings talking Geek talk with the boy and the bricklayer.

I don't think I'd come home either."

"She's got her walkman and lots of magazines."

"That all tell her about the clothes she should be wearing, that you don't buy her."

"Hey. I don't make enough—"

"To buy clothes for anybody but yourself," the vampire finished for her.

"That is so not fair."

"But true."

"I need more clothes. I can't wear the same clothes for work all the time,"

"Most people do."

"and with the slaying."

"God forbid some Fyarl demon sees you in the same top twice."

"Will you shut up. It is not my fault that she's gone off. You said it yourself. Hormone bomb."

"Have you tried the mall? Get them to do one of those tannoy announcement thingies. Ask her to ring home?"

"No, look, if you must know, Willow did a location spell and we think she's at some conference facility on the outskirts of town."

The vampire rolled his eyes. "So what do you need me for? Go get the daft bint."

"Well the thing is, the place is pretty huge, and she could be just about anywhere. And well, I kind of wanted to get you to the hire place first."

"What hire place?" the vamp asked, his voice laden with suspicion.

"The formal wear place. Turns out there's some sort of huge party there this weekend, and it's black tie."

"Bollocks to that, slayer."

"Look, who else am I meant to take? Xander's still in hospital. You want me to go with Giles?"

"Like I said, I did always wonder.?"

"Look, either you come with me or I ring Robin?"

The vampire rolled his eyes and gave a heartfelt sigh. "Lay on, Macduff," he pulled open the back door, stepping back to let Buffy precede him.

Buffy was wishing she had rung Robin. Taxis were non-existent in Sunnydale after dark, and Spike's chosen mode of transport didn't exactly fit with her stylishly timeless, Chinese-style silk dress. Having said that it did give her the opportunity to grab Spike and hold on like grim death as she perched side-saddle behind him.

"You can let go now, slayer."

Buffy belatedly realised that the motorbike was now stationary, and to judge by Spike's irritation it had been for some time. Spike nodded toward the banner that was hanging over the main entrance. "I think maybe you should have brought the watcher." Buffy followed his gaze, and her hopes of meeting that reality show millionaire sunk even lower.

"Happy 50^th Birthday, luba." Damn, she was going to have to make do with the devilishly attractive vampire in formal wear, instead. 'Times are hard,' she thought to herself.

"Come on, pet. Let's go. Quicker we find her, quicker we're out of here."

"What the blazes is Dawn doing at some fifty-year old's birthday party anyway? And what sort of name's luba? I bet it's a demon name. I bet he's a chaos demon or something slimy like that. Or maybe it's that guy she was with at Anya's wedding. Just because he looked about sixteen, doesn't mean anything. He could be fifty."

Spike decided he'd had enough. "Tell you what, slayer. Why don't we split up. You can take every other man who isn't me, since that pretty much seems to be your natural inclination. I'll go find some of those ladies who like the look. And if conversation gets real boring, I might even see if any of them have seen the Bit."

With that her extraordinarily dapper escort strode off, and even slayer speed wasn't going to let her keep up in those heels on a gravel drive.

Skipping the main entrance, Spike made his way around to the back of the building where he was sure he'd find a few smokers lurking by a back entrance.

He had just lit up when a male party-goer in his mid twenties came out. "God, man. You're good. Well except for the clothes. I mean Spike never wears formal wear, and luba has a thing for the coat."

"Pardon?" asked the confused vampire in a less than friendly tone, but the young man continued on regardless.

"Has luba seen you yet? Who hired you anyway? It was Susan, wasn't it? Go on you can tell me. Are those contacts or are your eyes really that colour?"

"Look, mate, I haven't got a clue what the hell you're prattlin' on about."

"Oh my god. You do the accent as well. This is so cool. First with there really being a place called Sunnydale, and then with all the lookalikes. There's someone here who looks the absolute image of Sarah Michelle Geller. You two will have to pose for photos together."

"I don't think so. Why don't you just take me to meet this luba with a jacket fetish and then you can just shut the hell up?"

"Hey, whatever you say. Who am I to argue with William the Bloody?"

Spike found himself doing a double-take as he moved through the crowd behind the young man. There was something about the woman they seemed to be approaching that reminded him of Joyce. Her hair was darker and longer, but something about the way she held herself reminded him of the older Summers woman. She had that assurance that only came with age. If this woman started something there would be no pretending it didn't happen the next morning. Actually, that was who she reminded him of, that one that used to play the DA in Hill Street Blues. She'd been quite the.

He knew the moment she saw him. She'd been standing side on chatting with a couple of her guests and seemingly having a fine time. Nevertheless, her eyes seemed to scan the room warily every so often, as if she were afraid that someone was going to jump out of a cake at her or something. Spike guessed he couldn't blame her. When she saw him at first, it was as if her eyes took him in as merely part of the scenery, but a millisecond later, the vampire found himself pinned by her cool blue gaze.

As the gap closed between them, neither allowed their attention to waver. Somewhere inside, a voice was asking Spike, 'what about the slayer?' A slightly more robust internal voice answered, 'sod the slayer.' The wussy William voice finally concurred. 'I guess God doesn't close a door without opening a window.' 'Damn straight,' affirmed the inner Spike.

"Look who I found out on the patio," his guide bubbled his enthusiasm.

Somehow the more formal setting brought out the etiquette of a bygone age, and as the music changed from The Clash's anthem "London Calling" to the plaintive strains of Kate Bush and Peter Gabriel duetting on "Don't Give Up" Spike extended his hand to his hostess. "Would you care to dance?"

A wicked smile spread across the woman's face. "If you're asking, I'm dancing."

Spike tucked her arm in at his elbow as he escorted her to the dance floor. "So, just for the sake of argument, you wouldn't happen to be some mighty powerful evil about to sacrifice my ex's little sis to the First Evil?" Spike asked his partner as they swayed in time to the music, their bodies not quite touching, yet.

"No, would it bother you if I was?" she asked him.

Spike considered this. He hadn't felt this sort of attraction to a total stranger in a long, long time, and it wasn't like Buffy was promising him anything but heartache.

"No, pet. I really don't think it would."

"How about if I sacrificed her to the goddess Yeska?" his partner asked in a teasing voice, as she shifted so that her body brushed against his as they moved.

"Yeska's no goddess. She's a—"

"Davric demon? Well, yes, if you want to be picky about it, I suppose she is."

"So all that power, what'd you do with it, hypothetically?" the vampire asked.

"Just be here, with you."

"No plans to send the earth into a hell dimension? Still get to see Man U now and again?"

"Say the word and we can move to England and buy you a season ticket for Old Trafford."

"Can't say fairer than that, I reckon. But, don't get me wrong, but you hardly look like the virgin sacrificing type. Now that guy over there." Spike nodded toward a slightly porcine redhead. "He looks like he would do it in an instant."

"I can't disagree with you there. That guy's capable of anything. Unless he's a lookalike." She gave him an appraising look.

"Say, hypothetically, that I was from an alternate reality, and I kinda said a few words, just as a joke when I was preparing the lobster for a quiet dinner with a few friends, and then instead of half a dozen lobster and a pot of boiling water, I was standing over a bloody altar with a dead teenager, and Yeska was in the middle of chowing down."

"So she was already dead when you got here?"

Luba wavered slightly. "Yeah, or so close you couldn't really tell. I think maybe she was a lobster substitute."

"Not hardly your fault then. I mean you were just making dinner. It's not like anyone locks up the galloping gourmet, is it?"

"So you'll stay?"

"Don't see why not?"

"And Buffy?"

Spike gave an evil grin of the type not seen in at least three years. "I think maybe I'm ready for her to not be here."

The End