AUTHOR'S NOTES:
1) The first lines of dialogue come out of Season 4 episode "Where
the Wild Things Are" which was written by Tracey Forbes.
2) Don't worry, I won't be bothering you with song lyrics all the time,
only in scenes that take place at the Bronze, I promise.
3) The sexy screen cap I found at www.spikespotting.com
PART 22 - Where the Demon-y Things Are
The Bronze, April 2000
Sitting on a couch at the Bronze, Spike was holding a glass of vodka in his
right hand. His left arm was resting along the top of the couch, almost
touching Anya. The ex-vengeance demon was unhappily cradling a bottle of beer.
Spike had paid for the drinks with Anya's money, because, despite over a
thousand years of existence as a vengeance demon, she still wasn't allowed to
buy alcohol. A fact that irritated her and cheered the vampire up.
Watching other people in misery was one of the few pleasures left to
him. *It's only a matter of time,* he told himself. *Sooner or later I'll
get rid of that soddin' chip, and then I am going to paint the town red.*
Until then he'd bide his time, study the Scoobies or get up their noses and
gloat over their petty little problems. *Even better than watching
'Passions'.*
He realized that Anya had stopped talking. "Yeah, tell me about
it," he said, confident that she wouldn't notice that he hadn't really
paid much attention to what she was saying. He was almost sure it was something
about missing her powers. Instead, he had been listening to the sounds of blood
pumping through her warm, delicious body. Not deliberately, mind you. All that
blood, and here he was, unable to take it. It was worse than an itch one
couldn't scratch; the hunger was a constant dull ache. A knot in his stomach
that no amount of bagged plasma could ease.
"A year and a half ago, I could have eviscerated him with my
thoughts. Now I can barely hurt his feelings," she sighed. "Things
used to be so much simpler."
*Simpler? You can say that again,* Spike thought, for the first
time fully understanding that monkey-boy's little shag toy was just as
de-fanged as he was. He nodded wistfully. "You know ... you take the
killing for granted." Anya nodded nostalgically. "And then it's
gone," he continued. "And you're like, 'I wish I'd appreciated it
more.' Stopped and smelled the corpses, you know?"
Anya just stared into empty space. "Yeah. Now everything's
complicated."
"It's a terrible thing, love is. Been there myself." Spike
paused, thinking of Drusilla. *She's not coming back. An' even if she did -
what would I tell her? 'Guess what, your big bad dog has been turned into a
fluffy puppy?'*
He still didn't get it, why she had left him. He still felt as if part of
him was inexplicably missing. Like he was adrift, somehow. Not that he'd ever
tell little Miss Vengeance 'bout that. Fortunately brawling and killing made
that awful emptiness go away - for a while. Worked better than getting drunk -
cheaper, too.
Shagging Harm had also helped, but only just. And now he didn't even
have that stupid bint for company, anymore. Who'd fall for a neutered vampire,
anyway? Not his own kind, that's for sure.
"It ended badly," he concluded, realizing how anti-climactic
that sounded.
"Of course it did." Anya said knowingly. "It always does.
Seen a thousand relationships. First there's the love, and sex, and then
there's nothing left but the vengeance. That's how it works."
Perhaps it was the proximity or her scent, he didn't really care. But he
noticed that - without any conscious thought - his body had decided to change
gears. He felt himself reacting to her body in an unexpected but not unwelcome
way. Spike smiled. His gaze dropped to her lips. *Pretty!* He gave her a
once over. *Veeery pretty.* What was that question again: 'who'd fall
for a neutered vampire?' Hmm. Perhaps an ex-demon might?* At least she hadn't
always been human.
He smiled and leaned in close, tapping her shoulder with his finger.
"You and I... should just go do the vengeance. Both of us! You eviscerate
Xander and I'll stake Dru. Like a project."
*It would be fun to be part of an evil team again...* He studied her
intently. *Well, well, if she doesn't look tempted.* For a moment it
seemed like she was going to agree. But then she sighed.
"I don't know. I just can't."
Spike resignedly took his arm down. *No money, no blood, no
evisceration of Xander, no nice after-torture shag...* The thought of an
eternity spent chipped made unlife look incredibly bleak.
"You can go do Dru though," Anya said, with a counterfeit
cheer.
Spike nodded. "Yeah. I
will," he said, knowing that he wouldn't. He made no move. "Maybe
later."
Anya smiled. They sat together quietly, morosely watching those stupid
mortal humans dancing and drinking and getting on with their brief pathetic
lives.
After a while Spike picked up a quickening of Anya's heartbeat. He
followed her gaze. There was a couple on the dance floor that was unashamedly
making out, kissing and groping, hands sliding under T-shirts... that sort of
thing. He turned his attention back to the ex-demon and realized that her
breathing had quickened a bit as well. Her lips were slightly parted and there
was a certain longing in her eyes. His manhood hardened some more, now seriously
interested. When he saw her unconsciously licking her lips he rose. Spike took
her bottle and put it on a side table, together with his own drink, then he
took her hands in his to slowly pull her up.
"Let's dance," he merely said.
Surprised, but pleased, she let herself be pulled to her feet, but then
her smile was replaced by a look of suspicion. "Why?" she asked
bluntly.
"Because dancing keeps everything else at bay," and when he
realized that she didn't understand what he meant, he added: "We'll look
good together. Let's not stare at them, make them stare at us."
THAT she understood.
Dancing was something Spike enjoyed. Something he was good at. He had
only ever danced with Dru and a few times with prey, but he had always been the
one to lead, dancing being one of the few instances in which his sire had
relinquished control to him. Dru could be old-fashioned at times.
Anya wasn't an experienced dancer but she had an innate grace and a
sense of time and space. But most of all she wasn't at odds with her body.
Spike held her very firmly, leading her into simple motions, making her sway
languidly, circling her with feline grace, gravitating around her. He didn't
mind her noticing his arousal, but he didn't purposefully press his erection
against her either. She, on the other hand, did not shrink from his embrace but
followed his lead without hesitation. They did indeed look stunning together.
When the music stopped, she just stayed in his arms and waited for the
next song, her fingers just slightly tightening their grip. He noted her heady
scent, the way it was tinged by her increasing arousal, her beautiful brown
eyes, her surprisingly strong body. And, of course, her warmth. He felt the
mounting desire to bury himself in that heat.
"You are a much better dancer than Xander," she said with her
usual directness.
"You learn a lot in over a century," he said suavely.
"And not just dancin', either." She didn't react to his
double-entendre. She just nodded.
The next song was "Bela Lugosi's Dead", an irony not lost on
the vampire. As her confidence grew, Anya's mask of concentration was replaced
by a smile. She followed her partner's cues with increasing familiarity.
...The bats have left the bell tower
The victims have been bled
Red velvet lines the black box
Bela Lugosi's dead
Undead undead undead...
Spike smiled. Having come to the conclusion that subtlety was wasted on
Anya, he leaned towards her ear, his cheek close enough to feel her warmth
basking his skin, but not quite touching her. "Ever been with a vampire
before?" he asked her, rubbing his thumb over her palm.
"Yes, but I was still a demon then."
That was not the answer he had expected. "Anyone I know?"
"Count Dracula," Anya smiled proudly. "We dated for a
while... I was only 700 then."
"Well, that poncy bugger doesn't count," Spike said, feeling a
sudden pang of rivalry. "Bet you discussed the fineries of impaling
people, rather than enjoying a good romp, ey?" He pulled her closer, into
a spin. She responded willingly. When he pressed himself against her a bit more
explicitly she responded in kind. And suddenly her hand was underneath his
T-shirt.
*Score!*