Title: Caught Between Two Lovers Author:Pattyanne snapkik@yahoo.com Disclaimer: All I own is nothing at all. Summary: I'm not sure if this would fall into the 'Alternate Universe' cate- gory. It takes place early season 2, but I've changed the events of 'School Hard' to suit me. All the characters are the same, but Angel never existed. Never did..never will. You'll also notice that Spike behaves a little...differently. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Is she in there?" "Yeah. She's out on the dance floor with her pals." "And...?" Luke frowned. "And...what?" Spike glanced skyward for a moment, shaking his head in disgust at yet another stupid minion that had to have everything explained to him. "Well, I doubt that she's wearing a name tag that says, 'Hi, I'm the slayer, so maybe you should tell me what she looks like." The puzzlement on Luke' face disappeared. "Oh, right..I get you now," he said. Wanting to curry favor with the vampire who'd probably be running things on the Hell Mouth once he eliminated the slayer, he eagerly provided a description. "She's kind of small. Maybe 16 or 17, I think. She has blonde hair and sensational legs. Cute little ass. Dresses real sexy, if you know what I mean?" "Mm-hmm." Spike glanced at his watch. Past eight o'clock already, he would have to make this quick. Drusilla would be awake soon, and since he didn't trust the idiot brigade to bring her someone to eat, he would have to see to it. "Gotta tell the truth, man...if she wasn't the slayer," Luke leered suggestively, giving Spike a nudge that almost got his arm broken for him. "Oh, yeah," Spike said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm sure she'd be all over a prize like you." With a blank look that said he wasn't sure but he thought he'd just been in- sulted, Luke opened his mouth to reply, only to be sharply cut off. "I'll go in first," Spike said. "You wait a few minutes, then come and find me and I'll tell you what to do. Do you think you can manage all that?" "Sure," Luke nodded. "Sure..you got it." "Well, good for you." About to enter the club, he added, "Oh, and one more thing. When you come in? Lose the face." ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** He walked in, pausing at the door to scan the room. Typical small town nightspot. Live music, but no recognizable bands. Probably local talent. Stopping at an empty table, he picked up a menu and looked it over. The appetizers were the standard variety crap you could pretty much find everywhere.< No imagination> He flipped the menu over, studying the wine list. What cheap shit! The most expensive bottle topped out at twenty dollars. Spike dropped the menu on the table and moved on. The place was fairly crowded for a week- night, although the entire amount of people in it wouldn't fill one room of a nightclub in New York...or Los Angeles, for that matter. He made his way slowly, heading for the center of the action...the dance floor. A familiar tingle raced up and down his spine, alerting him to the presence of a slayer. The closer he got to his goal, the stronger that feeling grew inside of him. When he finally reached his destination, he had no trouble locating her in the group of kids. "Well, well, well...." ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** As he watched her dance, he decided that Luke hadn't been exaggerating. If anything, he had understated the slayers charms. Her hair wasn't blonde, but rather a mixture of light brown and honey colored tresses shining in the muted glow of the overhead lights. It bounced around her face as she danced, looking soft and touchable, with none of the sticky hairspray that so many girls used. A man could thread his fingers in that silken mane, and they would slide right through. His hands itched to do exactly that. She was a tiny little thing. He doubted if she'd be shoulder high to him. There was a boy dancing with her that didn't look to be all that tall, but he towered over her. The same boy suddenly placed one hand on the slayer's hip. Spike frowned, feeling an almost over- whelming urge to grab that boy by the scruff of his neck and tell him to keep his fucking hands to himself. She was dealing with it, though, smiling at the boy while subtly moving away from his touch. Unable to stop himself, his eyes roamed up and down her body. He took note of the small waist and feminine curve of her hips. Strong, straight legs moved her around the dance floor, keeping a step away from anyone who tried to catch her. She was dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a light blue halter, cut just low enough to show off a bit of cleavage. The sight made him instantly hard. She was doing some of the most blatantly sexual dancing he'd ever seen outside of a strip club. The beat of the music seemed to be twisting and pulsing through her small frame. Spike had never been aroused by a woman so quickly. He watched her, mesmerized by her natural sexuality as she closed her eyes and raised her arms, lifting that beautiful wealth of hair off her neck, then releasing it to tumble around her face. And what a face it was... The movements of her dancing only gave him quick glimpses of it. As tantalyzingly brief as they were, he could see that the slayer had one of those faces that could change from child like innocence to woman- ly sensuality. The girlish roundness of her cheeks pleased him. There were too many girls walking around this days looking gaunt and thin in the face, like anemic heroin adicts. He'd seen corpses that looked in better shape than some of those women on the dance floor. But the slayer obviously ate normal meals on a regular basis. Her energy alone was testimony to that. No way was THIS little lady living on rice cakes and bottled water. She looked as though she enjoyed all the sweet things life had to offer, whether they were good for her or not. A girl like that made a man want to hold her in his lap and spoon feed her vanilla ice cream and strawberies. Her complexion was smooth and unblem- ished, pink and gold velvet that saw just enough sun to make it glow, but not enough to make it dry or rough. Although he couldn't determine the color, Spike could see hat her eyes were lovely. Large and long-lashed, they sparkled with life and good humor. She hadn't been doing her job long enough yet for them to become dark and troubled, weary from the knowledge that for every vampire she put down, there were a dozen waiting to take it's place. This slayer was new, and fresh, and filled with hope. Ready to take on the armies of hell, confident that she would win and good would triumph over evil. He slowly circled the perimeter of the dance floor, never taking his eyes off the slayer. He saw every sway of her hips, every shimmy of her shoulders, and every toss of that glorious hair. As he watched, he couldn't help smiling. Looking so damn pretty, moving the way she did, making all the boys want to claim her. That dark haired one following her around like a puppy was nearly drooling. Once again, Spike felt compelled to grab hold of the slayer's putative suitor and shake some sense into him. He wanted to tell the boy not to be stupid, that he couldn't BEGIN to be good enough for that beauty keeping herself just out of his reach. That he ought to concentrate his efforts on the little cutie-pie redhead that was trying so hard to attract his attention. There wasn't a man in this place worthy of this warrior princess. He'd known it the instant he'd laid eyes on her, the moment he picked up her scent of peaches and power. ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** His peripheral vision and keen sense of smell picked up the approach of the idiot he'd left outside. "Told you she was a hottie, didn't I ?" Luke asked, staring at the slayer with undisguised lust, as though he were trying to see through her clothes. Spike momentarily considered slapping the expression right off the other vampire's insipid, human face. Fighting back the urge, he issued brief orders. "Go back to the lair. I'll be there later." "How come?" Luke asked, confused. Spike took a tight leash on his temper, then turned to look at the stupid git who'd questioned something he said. "I want to watch this one for a while. See how she operates. Detect any weaknesses." Feeling he'd said more than enough to get this pain in the ass marching double time, he returned his attention to the slayer. When Luke failed to turn around and leave immediately, Spike looked back at him in pure disbelief. "Why the hell are you still here?" "It's just...well, I don't know," Luke shrugged, seeming to realize that he was heading into dangerous waters. "What about your..your lady friend?" Spike clenched his jaw. The last thing he wanted to be reminded of at this particular moment, was Drusilla. "What about her?" "Um..what do you want me to tell her?" Luke asked nervously. "Because she can get kind of...YOU know...if you're not there." This was true. Ever since the attack on her in Prague, and their subsequent flight from the country, Drusilla had become more and more unstable, oblivious to the world around her. She hadn't been completely sane to start with, and after nearly perishing at the hands of an angry mob that had figured out what she was, the line that lay between her sanity and the total lack of any, was getting thinner every day. The very things he'd always loved so dearly about her had morphed to almost frightening proportions, and it wasn't cute anymore. He would catch her watching him with wide and confused eyes, and it was at those moments that he felt certain she had no idea who he was. All she seemed to be interested in these days were her dolls and her weird visions. Day by day, she was slipping further and further away. Her appetite was dwindling, and there were times he had to force feed her. She had no survival instinct working for her anymore. Acting impulsively, she would obey the voices in her head, forcing Spike to place a 24 hour guard on her after she'd nearly walked outside in the middle of the afternoon to pick flowers. Her normally pale skin was almost translucent, and her body was weak and frail. In her more lucid moments, she would rail miserably against that weakness, demanding that Spike find a way to put her back together again. Which was getting harder and harder to do. And as her body began to fail her, her person- ality had undergone a drastic change. In the past, even though she'd not been in possession of all her marbles, she had been happy and he'd always been able to keep her that way. Along with death and carnage, Dru had also enjoyed typically female things, such as beautiful clothes and expensive jewelry. She had taken pride in her beauty, and took pains to maintain it. Her raven hair had always been thick and shiny, arranged so that her curls tumbled down to frame her winsome face. As dark as melting chocolate and as wide as a child's, Dru's eyes had been mesmerizing.. literally. Without hardly trying, she had always been able to lure anyone she wanted with her eyes, for any reason. Whether they were gleaming with blood lust, or dancing with infantile gaiety..they'd sparkled with vitality, and hunger, and passion. Now..they were dull and lifeless, usually half closed and bit out of focus. Her happiness was draining away a little more each day. Where once she had gloried in chaos and death..in the giving and taking of pain..now she seemed more like a spoiled child, prone to bouts of near hysterical panic by the most insignificant circumstance. Alternating between whimpering tears at imagined slights, and fierce temper tantrums, it was impossible to predict her moods, and she was becoming difficult to live with. But, he loved her...so he'd put up with be- havior that he would never have tolerated with anyone else. After searching all over Europe and Asia, consulting with countless shamans, sorcerors, and prognosticators, he had brought her to America...to Sunnydale, California... To the mouth of hell. With little effort, he had quickly established himself as the master vampire he was. He'd barely gotten Dru settled in and cobbled together a gang, when he'd found out that there was a slayer making life difficult for the local demon population. Judging from the fact that she still lived..that no vampire had been able to kill her..he de- duced that she must be a real badass, a tough cookie of the amazon variety. Ordinarily, this wouldn't have concerned him. He had dealt with slayers before, and found them to be far less intimidating than most vampires did. But, when he'd heard about the serious damage this particular slayer was dishing out, and since he didn't know how long they would have to stay in this pissant burg, he had decided to find her and kill her quickly...thus freeing him to concentrate all his energy on restoring Dru's health. Watching her now though, he amended his previous plans for her downfall, inserting a third activity between 'find' and 'kill'. ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** "What if she asks where you are?" The idiot was speaking again. "She won't," Spike said succintly. "Just stop on the way back and grab her some- one to eat." Luke still hesitated. "But what if she's not..I mean, what if she won't..." Enough was clearly enough. "GO AWAY NOW," Spike said, with a definite threat in his voice as he glared at Luke. "Be- fore I hurt you in unpleasant ways." Self-preservation finally kicking in, Luke disapp- eared into the crowd, allowing Spike to return his undivided attention to the slayer. Who was no longer there... "Son of a..." he muttered. "I swear I'm gonna tear that imbecile's head right the fuck off." Still swearing softly, he opened himself up to feel if she was still close. He sensed her instantly. Turning around, he saw her sitting at a table with the boy and the cutie-pie she'd been dancing with. The table was covered with what he imagined was her homework. She didn't look particularly happy about it, her body language clearly conveying the notion that school work was the last thing she wanted to be doing right now. Keeping his eyes on her, he took a seat at a table near where she was sitting. One of the waitresses walked by, heading for the bar with an empty tray, and Spike touched her arm to stop her. Giving her his most charming smile, he said, "Be a good girl and bring me a glass of whatever you have on tap, won't you luv?" When the glass was placed in front of him, he settled back into his chair and gazed at the slayer with intent, willing her to look up and see him. He knew when awareness of him began to make itself known to her. Cognizant of someone watching her, her eyes skipped from one person to another. He frowned when the redhead said something to draw her attention. As though he'd whispered his request directly into her pretty little ear, the slayer turned her head and looked straight at him. Locking his eyes with hers, he smiled slowly, blatantly staring at her, and was charmed beyond the telling of it when he saw her blush. But, in spite of the blush, she didn't look away. He felt a jolt of excitement when she returned his smile, shyly at first, then more boldly as she became more sure of herself, more certain that he was attracted to her. Rising to his feet, he made his way to the bar. ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** "Buffy? Are you still here in the same world?" Willow's soft voice pulled the slayer's attention away from the outrageously handsome man she'd been exchanging looks with. "Yeah," she said absently. "I'm..yeah. Sure." She shook her head and looked at her friend. "Why wouldn't I be?" Willow shrugged. "Well, because I asked you twice if you wanted any more help conjugating your verbs and you pretty much didn't even hear me." "Oh...sorry," Buffy said, sounding lame even to her own ears. But Willow, sweet natured as always, understood without being told. "You know, I'm getting a little tired anyway. We can finish this later." She got her things together and looked at Xan- der. "Want to walk your best friend home and protect her from the bad guys?" "I suppose I could," Xander replied. "But who's gonna protect me?" Willow smiled at him and stood up. "Come on." "No, I'm serious," he said as she pulled him to his feet. "Who's gonna protect me?" Keeping a firm grip on his arm, she began towing him towards the door. "We'll protect each other." Xander tried to dig in his heels. "But we have someone here who's a lot better qualified. Buffy is actually IN the protection business." Willow yanked his arm, dragging him along. "Why isn't she coming with us? It's getting late, she should be coming with us. Well, let's ask...OW!...do you have to so rough?" Buffy smiled at Xander's running commentary as he was pushed, shoved, and nudged out the door. She gathered her books and papers into a neat stack. Moving slower than an arthritic snail, she forced herself not to search around the room. A few long minutes crawled by, and she began to wonder if he had left, or is she had misinter- preted his interest. Counting to sixty, she sighed and picked up her homework, ready to call it quits and go home. "I hope your friends left on account of me." ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** Buffy started at his sudden appearance beside her, looking up with a surprised look on her face. Above average height..the ONLY average thing about him..he had platinum blonde hair and a penetrating dark blue gaze, framed by almost femininely long eyelashes. He had a sensual mouth, and cheekbones that would make a super-model pea green with envy. The only thing saving him from being "pretty" was a scar slashing through his eyebrow. All in all, Buffy decided, his entire face was his best feature. Realizing that she was staring at him like a mute idiot, she tried to think of something witty to say that wouldn't make her sound like the inexperienced teenager girl that she was. "Don't you mean 'I hope your friends DIDN'T leave on account of me..you?' " He shook his head. "I meant what I said, luv." "I wanted them to leave," he added. "May I sit down?" Under the table, she gave one of the chairs legs a hard shove with her foot, pushing it out. "If you want to." He smiled and seated himself. "Would you like another...what is that?" he asked, point- ing at her empty glass. "Oh, it's...it's just Coke," Buffy said, wishing it was something a little more sophisticated. "Would you like another?" he asked again. "Sure. Okay. Fine." She cringed inwardly at her monosyllabic responses, knowing she must sound stupid. But he didn't seem to think so. "It's not diet, is it?" Buffy made a face. "Eww..no. I hate diet drinks." Her expression amused him. "Good for you," he said as he signaled the waitress. After ordering the drink, he turned to her before the waitress could leave. "Would you like any- thing else?" Buffy shook her head. "No, this is fine...thank you." "Hmm." He tilted his head a little. "Have you had your dinner?" "Uh-huh. Before I left home. I'm totally full." "Too full for dessert?" "Well.." Buffy shrugged, with a guilty smile. "How about some ice cream?" He gave her a speculative look. "I'll bet you like....hot fudge sundaes." Buffy grinned. "That's a safe bet." He looked at the waitress. "You heard the lady," he said, dismissing her and returning his full attention to Buffy. "What's your name?" "It's...I'm..." "Buffy." He seemed surprised. "Your mother named you Buffy?" "No," she said. "My mother named me Elizabeth, but no one calls me that," she explained. "Even my mom only uses it when she's mad at me." She hesitated. "What's..your name?" For a moment, he debated his options. He had a reputation for killing two of her kind, and it was possible she'd recognize the name. Part of him wanted that to happen, wanted to see the look on her face when she found out just who she was dealing with. But the other part of him, the less impulsive part, didn't want to scare her off. "William," he answered. "William Hamilton." It was a good sounding name. She liked that he hadn't shortened his first name to the more common 'Bill'. He didn't look like a Bill. It didn't suit him. The waitress returned with a tray bearing a glass of Coke, and the most enormous hot fudge sundae that Buffy had ever seen. Before she could do it, Spike took the spoon and dug out a mixture of ice cream, hot fudge and whipped cream. He lifted the spoon to her lips and Buffy accepted it as she looked into his level gaze. Her own eyes rolled up as she closed her lips around the spoon. "Mmmm." Spike was delighted with her response. "Good?" She opened her eyes as the spoon slid out of her mouth. "Better than good." Knowing he'd be pushing it if he tried to pull her onto his lap, he settled for feeding her another bite of ice cream, then handed her the spoon. He was amazed at how quickly she polished off the dessert, even scraping the sides of the dish to gather the fudge clinging to it. When she replaced the spoon in the dish, she caught him watching her. "I guess I kind of look like a pig, don't I?" she asked, her cheeks reddening. "No," he shook his head. "You don't. You look like...a little girl." Buffy pushed the dish away. "That was good. Thank you." "You're more than welcome, luv." ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** "So, um..." Buffy searched for a topic of conversation. "You're not from around here, are you?" "What gave it away," Spike asked teasingly. "Well, you're accent for one and.." She caught his look of amusement. "Now you're making fun of me," she said, her cheeks burning once again. He shook his head. "No, I'm not, darling. I think you're absolutely adorable, especially when you blush." He leaned forward, staring with intent into her eyes. "I made you blush before...when I was staring at you." Buffy nodded, her gaze arrested by his. "I guess so...a little..." Spike lowered his voice a fraction. "I'd think that a girl as pretty as you are would be accustomed to men staring at her." He grinned. "There it is again," he said, noting her warm cheeks. "God, that's sweet. I haven't seen a girl blush like that for a hun- dred years." He tossed the hint out casually, curious to see if she'd notice it. All she did was smile. End of part one....