Dancing the Night Away

Author: enigmaticblue

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, which should be obvious. Joss would never allow them to be happy for long.

Summary: It’s Wolfram & Hart’s annual New Year’s Eve party, and there’s a party crasher coming. Set in an AU AtS S5.

A/N: Written for spikereader, for the 2007 holiday request ficathon.

Buffy adjusted her dress, wanting to be sure that it looked right. She had every intention of knocking Spike dead, right before she knocked him into the next week. Thinking about how he’d come back—and had been back—without letting her know, made her angry all over again. A moment later, she’d stifled the anger, reminding herself that she had been the one to wait until the eleventh hour to tell him how she felt.

She still wouldn’t have known that Spike had returned from the dead, except that Fred had let it slip to Willow, and Willow had known that Buffy would want to know about his return. At least her friend had had the good sense to tell her.

Turning to get a view of the back of her dress in the full-length mirror, Buffy gave a satisfied nod. The dark green fabric hugged every curve and complimented her tanned skin and blonde hair. Although it was floor length, the slit up the side allowed for movement, as well as tantalizing glimpses of her legs.

If Spike could resist her while she was wearing this dress, he was well and truly over her.

The final touches were placed in deference to the fact that Wolfram & Hart was an evil law firm, and her innate cautiousness where it concerned concentrations of demons. The thin stilettos holding her hair up were fully functional, and she had two stakes hidden on her person and one in her clutch purse, as well as a vial of holy water and a cross. If there was trouble, she was ready for it.

One final touch of color on her lips, and she went down to meet her taxi. With any luck at all, she wouldn’t return to her hotel room alone.

~~~~~

Spike looked out over the ballroom with distaste. Unlike at the Halloween party, which had at least been interesting, it appeared that their guests tonight were on their best behavior. Angel had said that he wasn’t to come unless he was dressed for the occasion, which didn’t bother Spike in the least. He’d slip in, nick a couple of beers and enough blood for a decent meal, and then slip off again. As long as Angel didn’t see him, it wouldn’t matter.

“There you are.”

Spike froze, turning to see Wesley bearing down on him. “What?” he asked defensively. “I’m just lookin’.”

“Come on,” Wesley insisted, putting a hand on his shoulder and steering him towards the elevator.

He shook off the hand. “What’s your problem?” Spike demanded.

“I think you’ll find that it’s your problem,” the Watcher replied. “You want to be here for this party, Spike.”

Spike was now certain that he didn’t want to be there, and he started to stalk towards the front doors. “Forget it. I’ll get a drink somewhere else.”

“Do you want Angel to be the one who greets Buffy?”

That question stopped him in his tracks. “What?”

“I have good information that Buffy is planning on crashing the party tonight,” Wesley said in a low voice, moving closer. “As I see it, you have two choices. You can leave, which will mean that she’s left to be entertained by Angel, or you can go up to my office and put on the suit that Fred rented for you.”

“Why do you care?” Spike asked suspiciously.

Wesley shrugged. “I don’t particularly, but Fred asked me to help.”

That response told Spike everything he needed to know. He was well aware that Wesley was head over heels for Fred, and that he’d probably do just about anything she asked of him. Talking Spike into a suit was certainly not as painful as shooting his father—even if his “father” had really been a cyborg.

“Fine,” he sighed. Spike knew that Angel would be in a tux, playing the powerful CEO, and he hated for the other vampire to show him up.

Besides, if he was dressed up, maybe Buffy wouldn’t be quite so inclined to hit him once she figured out he’d been back for a while without letting her know.

~~~~~

Buffy slipped inside the office building by entering with a crowd of people who were all taller than she was. There was a security guard at the door checking invitations, but she didn’t know what he’d do if she didn’t have one to present.

The guard was rather distracted by the tall, voluptuous woman in the front of the group, however. As she snuck past, she raised an eyebrow, realizing that she had four breasts to ogle; it was no wonder that the man didn’t pay her any attention.

Once safely inside, Buffy focused on looking around for Spike. Willow had assured her that he would be there, although the Slayer had no idea how her friend was going to make that happen. This was exactly the sort of affair that Spike usually avoided.

Buffy saw Angel greeting a group of demons, and she quickly ducked out of sight before he noticed her. She did not want a confrontation with her ex, that was for sure. He was likely to bring up the cookie analogy, and Buffy didn’t want to disappoint him. The truth was that she was fully baked, and the only person she wanted eating her cookies was Spike.

“Buffy?” The soft question came from a thin, dark haired girl in a deep blue dress.

“Yes?” she responded cautiously.

“I’m Fred.” She put a hand on her arm. “Willow’s friend?”

“Oh, right!” Buffy glanced around anxiously. “Is Spike here?”

Fred smiled mysteriously. “Wesley’s taking care of him.”

“Taking—”

“You know Spike,” Fred replied in response to Buffy’s abortive question. “There would have to be a good reason for him to be here.”

Buffy was a little skeptical. “And Wesley can get him here?”

“I hope so,” Fred replied. “I haven’t seen him, though, so I’d guess he managed to talk Spike into staying inside the building anyway.” She looked up with wide eyes. “Angel’s seen you.”

Buffy cursed under her breath. “It was going to happen sometime.”

~~~~~

Spike reached up to adjust his tie, only to have Wesley snap, “Stop that. It looks fine.”

“It’s bloody uncomfortable, is what it is,” Spike shot back. “I don’t see what good this is gonna do. Buffy’s likely to fall into Angel’s arms as soon as she sees him.”

Wesley cleared his throat and pointed as they stepped off the elevator. “I don’t think so.”

Buffy was standing in the middle of the dance floor, toe to toe with Angel. She was certainly not in his arms, nor did she look likely to fall into them at any point in the near future. Instead, she looked pissed off, and Spike began to edge closer, forgetting his discomfort in his borrowed finery.

“You knew, Angel!” she was saying angrily. “I told you how I felt, and you didn’t even call me!”

Spike frowned. That didn’t sound promising.

“It wasn’t any of my business,” Angel replied, although he didn’t say it like he meant it. “Spike was the one who decided not to call.”

He realized that Buffy was pissed that Angel hadn’t let her know that he was alive. Interesting. Of course, that didn’t bode well when she turned her wrath on him.

“Fred told Willow that he was a ghost and bound to Wolfram and Hart,” Buffy shot back. “So he couldn’t have let me know right away. That means it was your fault.”

Spike swallowed his snort of laughter. Buffy had always needed to blame someone when something went wrong; it felt good not to be the scapegoat this time. All laughter died a second later when she turned her gaze on him, green eyes sparkling with anger and tears. Oh, hell. He’d never wanted her to cry.

“And what do you have to say for yourself?” Buffy demanded. “Were you just going to let me grieve forever?”

This wasn’t how Spike had planned it. He’d hoped that their reunion—if there was one—would be a little more private, for one thing. For another, he’d rather have skipped the yelling and gone straight to the kissing. The ballroom was completely silent at this point, and her voice probably carried to the far corners of the room.

“Didn’t know you’d be grieving,” he replied honestly. “I thought you’d move on.”

“You stupid vampire!” she cried. “I meant what I said!”

Then she kissed him, and the entire world seemed to fade away. The moment her lips touched his, he forgot that he’d been worried about her reaction, that he hated wearing a tie, even the fact that Angel was standing right there watching them.

It was, in short, a perfect kiss.

~~~~~

Buffy hadn’t meant to make a scene in front of everyone, but then Angel had had the temerity to ask her what she was doing there, and when she told him she wanted to see Spike, to tell her that Spike was no good for her.

After he’d hidden the fact that Spike was back from the dead—when she’d told him that Spike was in her heart—Angel had no business telling her anything, let alone weighing in on what was good for her.

So, she’d lost her head a little bit, and created a scene. With any luck, she wouldn’t see any of the guests again, unless it was on the business end of her weapons.

She rested her head on Spike’s shoulder as they swayed in time to the music; she didn’t think they’d stopped dancing all night, although they had shared another kiss when the clock struck midnight.

“Don’t look now, pet, but Angel’s staring at us again,” he murmured in her ear.

“Let him,” she muttered rebelliously. “I’m still not happy with him.”

“Yeah?”

She could hear the delight in his voice, and Buffy rolled her eyes eloquently. “It was always going to be you, Spike, so you don’t have to be so happy about me being pissed off at him.” She glared. “And you have some lost time to be making up. Do you know what we might have been able to accomplish over the last few months, if you’d just told me you were back?”

He shrugged. “Wasn’t sure of my welcome. Coming back from the dead, after you’ve gone out a hero…”

When Spike trailed off, she sighed, knowing exactly what he meant. “I know, but I missed you.”

His grip on her tightened. “Yeah. Same here.”

“Will you come back to Rome with me?” she asked.

“Whatever you like, pet,” Spike replied. “Just as long as it doesn’t require me to wear a suit again.”

Buffy pulled back to look him up and down. “Well, it would be nice to see every once in a while,” she said contemplatively. “I’m going to have to thank Fred and Wesley later.”

Spike jerked his head toward a corner of the room, where the two had their heads close together. “Much later, if I’m readin’ the signs right.”

“Good for them,” she said sincerely, and then looked pointedly at the clock. “I think we’ve danced enough for one night, don’t you? I’ve got a hotel room.”

Spike smiled. “You can never have enough dancing, luv, but I wouldn’t mind changin’ locations.”

She pulled his head down for another kiss, melting into his embrace, knowing that he was right. They would never stop dancing.