DEDICATION: For Mint Witch, Kimi, and Chris, just because.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Fred quotes Emily Dickinson's "I'm Nobody! Who Are You?" Lyrics from "Don't Go Breaking My Heart" and “Strangers in the Night” used without permission.
Fred sat on the bed in her room, her attention focused on
Cordelia. “Are we going for the sex kitten look, or something a little more
elegant?” asked the seer. She held up
one sparkling dress with a plunging neckline, the other was a deep plum satin,
draped in elegant folds.
Fred bit her thumb, her eyes
fixed on the dresses. “Sex kitten,” she
said decisively.
Cordelia smiled. “Go, you!” She
handed Fred the silver dress. “Can I wear the other one?”
“Of course,” Fred said happily.
“That color will look beautiful on you.”
Cordelia held the purple dress against her shoulders and
admired her reflection. “It really brings out my eyes.”
“You’ll look great,” Fred
assured her. “The men will be lining up for you.”
The blonde girl grinned. “That
would be great. Lots and lots of free drinks.”
Fred pulled the dress she was wearing over her head and
slipped on the silver dress. It was covered in silver spangles, the dangling
strings of beads at the hem flapping around her knees. “How do I look?”
“Very sex kitteny,” Cordelia
assured her.
“Did you bring your makeup?”
Fred asked.
Cordy pulled a zippered bag out
of her purse and waved it in the air. “Prepare to be Cosmofied.”
Down in the lobby, Angel sat on the couch, dabbing at a
spot on his coat. He turned to Wesley. “Is that slime?”
Wesley looked at it. “Yes,
there’s a streak there, and another patch around the hem.”
“I thought I got it cleaned up,”
Angel grumbled. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Gunn watched as Angel walked up the stairs. “What’s with
the primping? We’re just going to Caritas. Lorne won’t care what we wear.”
“No, I think Angel’s concerned
more with Cordelia’s opinion,” Wesley said.
Gunn looked thoughtful. “You
think she knows that he’s got feelings for her?”
Wes shook his head. “He’s good
at keeping everything in check.”
A bar of soap flew across Spike’s bathroom, shattering
into pieces. “Bloody fucking hell!” Spike yelled. He clenched his hands in the
wet, wrinkled mess of his jacket. The blood refused to come out of the brown
linen. He’d been at it for half an hour, scrubbing and rubbing like a
charwoman.
He picked up his phone and
called Dawn. “I need help.”
“What’s the problem? More demons
trying to kill you?” the girl asked anxiously.
“I haven’t got a thing to wear,” he said plaintively. “The
new suit’s done for, ruined it in the fight. Fred asked me to take her to some
fancy club, and we’re supposed to be leaving in a few minutes. I’ve got
nothing.”
“Fred asked you on a date?” Dawn said excitedly. “See, I
told you she’d forgive you! I knew she liked you.”
“Well, she’s not going to like me much if I show up
looking like an idiot for her first night out in five years,” Spike pointed
out.
“Just wear your shirt from last
night and your jeans, with the duster,” Dawn instructed.
Spike pulled out the blue shirt and looked at it. “Are you
sure?” he queried. “I don’t want to disappoint her.”
Dawn laughed. “Spike, you really
need to buy some self esteem.”
Spike smoothed out the shirt with his hands, his brow
furrowing. “It’s just that- she wants me, she asked me to go. She could have
gone with one of the other chaps. But she chose me.”
“I guarantee you she won’t be
disappointed,” Dawn assured him. “The leather coat really works for you.”
“You sure?” he said anxiously. “Because I know she’ll be
totally fucking gorgeous, and I don’t want to embarrass her.”
“Never happen,” Dawn said.
“Trust me.”
*****
The Angel Investigations gang walked into Caritas. Wesley
and Gunn headed straight for the bar, while Angel and Cordelia waited for a
table. Spike and Fred walked in behind them, the girl holding tightly to the
vampire's hand. She shimmered in her dress, and her hair was pulled back with a
silver clasp, the brown strands tumbling down her back.
"This place is really busy tonight," Cordelia
observed, taking in the full house. Lorne was onstage, finishing up a soaring
rendition of "I Left My Heart in
San Francisco."
"It usually is on weekends," Angel said. "I
can't believe all these people are willing to pay these kind of prices for
drinks."
Cordy smirked. "Not
everyone on the planet is afraid to part with some cash to have a good
time."
"I know how to spend
money," Angel said defensively. "But there's no point just throwing
it away."
"Some people consider fun to be a worthy thing to
spend money on," Cordelia pointed out. "In fact, many people earn
money solely so they can have fun with it."
"That's pretty impractical," Angel commented.
The audience applauded as the Host finished his song with a bow and a wave. He
walked off the stage and Cordelia called out his name, waving him over.
Lorne walked up to the group, looking less than thrilled.
"I really hope this is pleasure and not business. The place just got
rebuilt and I'd really like it to stay that way."
"I need a favor," Fred
said shyly.
"Anything for a looker like you," he murmured,
taking her hand and kissing it. She smiled at him, and he raised his eyebrows.
"Fred, is that you?" She nodded and he took her hand, twirling her
around. "Look at what you had hidden under those rags of yours. Baby, you
are one hot little number."
"You're looking pretty good
yourself," she giggled, pulling on his tie.
He struck a pose in his gold metallic suit. "I do
look great, don't I? This color really brings out the highlights in my
skin."
Spike snorted loudly, and Fred and Lorne turned to look at
him. "Lorne, this is my friend Spike," introduced Fred. "Spike,
this is Lorne, the Host."
"Nice to meet you,"
Lorne said. "Any friend of Fred's is a friend of mine."
"Likewise," said
Spike, shaking hands with the demon.
"Nice strong grip. I really
like that in a man." Lorne smiled flirtatiously at Spike.
“So you’re a real man’s man
then?” Spike asked, looking amused.
“Oh, I like to keep my options open.” A table opened up
and Lorne led them to it. ”What would you all like to drink?"
"I want a Zombie!"
Fred said excitedly.
A decrepit looking guy at the next table turned to look at
her and smiled hopefully. "She meant the drink, mate," Spike smirked.
Crestfallen, the zombie turned back to his companions. "Double scotch on
the rocks for me."
"Same here," said
Angel. "Strawberry daiquiri for Cordelia."
"Where are Tweedledourer
and Tweedledouerest?" Lorne asked.
"They're at the bar," Cordelia informed him.
'"Apparently, their major concern is staying as close to the liquor as
possible."
Lorne turned to walk to the bar
and Fred stood up. "I need to speak with you."
"Come on along and tell me what's on your mind,"
he offered. He led her through the
crowd to the bar and gave the bartender their drink order.
“No fruit in my Zombie,
please," she requested.
"So spit it out,
honey," Lorne said kindly. “I can feel the anxiety from here. No need to
be shy."
"I want you to read Spike," Fred explained.
"Angel and the gang don't trust him, and it’s really important to me that
they warm up to him. Would you please read him for me and tell Angel that he's
not evil?"
"You want me to tell them that he's a good guy, or do
you want me to tell them what I really think?" asked Lorne.
"I wouldn't ask you to
lie," Fred said earnestly. "I know that would be wrong."
Lorne looked at her sympathetically.
"But you really wish I would, don’t you, doll?"
Fred sighed, her eyes sad. Lorne reached out and patted
her cheek. "I hope it works out for you," he said gently. “If it
makes you feel better, the overbearing vibe I’m getting from our ensouled
friend, that’s coming from a place of love. He is genuinely concerned about
this other vamp’s presence in your life.”
"I know that Angel means well,” Fred admitted. “But
they’re never going to give him a fair chance without a little push. I can’t
bear to run interference indefinitely. I don’t think I can deal with all of
that.” She began to knead the hem of her dress, and a string of tiny beads
broke, scattering onto the floor. She was so distraught that she didn’t notice.
“I think your intuition about Spike is dead on, no pun
intended,” Lorne said. “So just try to relax.” He handed her a couple of
drinks. "I would suggest that you let him have his hooch and then pop the
question. I can tell you from experience that your older vampires have a hell
of a lot of ego. I wouldn't hold my breath on getting him to do this if I were
you."
"Oh, I know he'll do it! I just hope you can see in
him what I do. I hope so, with all my heart.” Lorne watched Fred walk through
the crowd to her table. She brushed her hand along the back of Spike’s neck and
he looked up at her with a look of longing.
"Besotted bastard,"
Lorne said as he turned to the bartender. “Sea Breeze, Eduardo."
Fred handed Spike his drink and
leaned over to whisper in his ear. "I want to talk to you in
private."
He stood and they walked through the club, finding a patch
of quiet and privacy in the stairwell. They stood close together, and Spike
could hear her heart beating fast, the flush in her skin another cue that
something was off. “Is something wrong?”
Fred shook her head. “No, I think everything will be just
fine.” She put on a brave smile and raised her glass. "To friendship," she toasted.
"To friendship." They clinked glasses and drank.
Fred finished her drink and waited nervously for Spike to do the same. When he was done, he looked at her
expectantly. "I need you to do me a favor.”
"Anything for you," he
responded immediately.
"I need you to get up
onstage and sing karaoke,” she blurted out in a rush.
He laughed, his white teeth flashing.
"I don't think so."
"You said anything,"
she reminded him.
Spike took a step back, his expression serious. "I'll
have to amend it then. Let's just say I'm not the singing type."
“Please?” Fred pleaded. She took his hand and looked up at
him, brown eyes soft and wide. “This is very important to me.”
“I’m not going to do it,” he said flatly. “I’m not making
an ass out of myself in front of a roomful of demons, not to mention a bunch of
wankers who already treat me like a sodding schoolboy.”
“Please,” she said earnestly.
“Please, Spike. For me.”
He looked at her sweet face, and he knew he was screwed.
He’d do anything for her, truly. If it was bloody karaoke- well, she was an odd
duck. That was part of her charm, and
he reminded himself of that. He pushed
the image of Cordelia and Angelus in hysterics from his mind and focused on her
need, her air of desperation. “Two conditions,” he said crisply, maintaining a
façade of dignity.
“Okay,” she quickly agreed.
“Firstly, I need a hell of a lot
more drinks,” Spike said. “And secondly, you have to get up there with me.”
Fred’s hands flew to her cheeks.
“Oh no. I couldn’t.”
“Turnabout’s fair play, kitten.”
Spike turned her hand over and gently kissed her palm. “Your call.”
******
Spike and Fred stood on the stage, staring at the monitor
that would display the lyrics of their duet. His arm was thrown over her
shoulder, holding her close. Her hand held the edge of his duster in a death
grip, but she still wobbled slightly in her heels. The music began, and they
shared a quick look of horror.
“'Don't go breaking my heart," Spike belted out.
"I couldn't if I
tried," Fred chimed in, her voice cracking.
"Honey if I get
restless," Spike sang smoothly.
"Baby you're not that
kind," warbled Fred.
Angel and Cordelia watched the show with great amusement.
"Tell me you're getting this," Angel said, his eyes locked on the
stage.
"I'm totally getting
this," she said, adjusting the handle on her concealed video camera.
Wesley and Gunn watched the performance from the bar.
"Man, that is just sad," Gunn said, shaking his head.
"One hundred and fifty
years of practice, and he can barely carry a tune," Wesley commented.
"He's not that bad,"
Gunn disagreed. "She- man, she is baaadd. The girl is tone deaf."
Wesley frowned. "Yes, there
is an- utter lack of musical quality about her voice."
After several torturous minutes, the two finished their
song and left the stage to a smattering of polite applause. Fred turned and
looked anxiously for the Host. He smiled widely, giving her a thumbs up. Fred
hugged Spike hard. “Oh, that was terrific.”
He tightened his arms around her and grinned broadly. “We
were crap. I think we made them bleed out their ears.”
“But we did it,” Fred beamed
back at him. “That’s all that mattered.”
“I’m glad I made you happy, pet,” Spike said, running his
fingers along the bare skin of her back. “Can I have a little prezzie for being
a good boy?” Her pulse sped up as he dipped his head to hers, and she closed
her eyes in anticipation of his kiss.
“Great job,” Lorne said heartily as he clapped his arm
around them both. “You two deserve a couple of drinks on the house. There’s a
Zombie and a double scotch with your names on them.” The horned demon pointed
at the couple and his bartender nodded. Spike took Fred’s hand in hers and led
her over to the bar.
Lorne walked over to Angel and patted him on the shoulder.
The vampire looked up at him, his eyes serious. “What can you tell me?”
“He loves her,” Lorne said with
a shrug.
Angel looked shocked. “Well,
that’s not what I was expecting to hear.”
“Spike’s no threat to anyone, except those that try to
harm his girl,” Lorne explained. “He’s no white knight, but he’s not Darth
Vader by a long shot. I think light gray is pretty much his color.”
Cordelia’s eyes widened. “Back
up. He’s in love with Fred?”
“Head over heels,” the horned demon confirmed. “The poetry
that dreamboat has in his head is all hearts and flowers and forever. Sweet
enough to send a diabetic into a coma.”
The bartender handed Fred and Spike a fresh pair of drinks
as they sat down on a pair of barstools. Spike tilted back his drink, downing
it in a flash and gestured for another.
Fred fished the garnish out of her drink. Delicately, she
bit the pineapple off and extended the skewer to Spike. "Want my
cherry?" she asked.
He grinned. "You flirting
with me?"
She looked at him questioningly. "Not that I know of.
Is there something romantic about fruit that I've missed out on?"
"Apparently," he said,
his eyes gleaming.
"Open up," Fred instructed, and slid the skewer
in his mouth. He sucked the cherry off the wood as his eyes locked into hers,
and she flushed at the intensity of his stare. Within seconds he stuck out his
tongue, revealing a small red knot.
She looked at it curiously and
picked it off his tongue. “What is that? Cherry stem?"
"Yeah. Vampires, we're an oral lot. Got a lot of
tricks up our sleeves." Spike tilted his head and watched her, his eyes
filled with desire.
"You did this with your
tongue?" she said, inspecting it closely. "That's unbelievable. It’s
so tight."
“You want to see what else I can do with it?” He slid his
hand into her hair and moved it away from her neck, bending his head and gently
tracing along her collarbone with the tip of his tongue.
She closed her eyes, her mouth parting. “Spike,” she
gasped as she clenched her hand on his knee. “Oh my goodness.”
Slowly he moved his mouth away from her skin and looked up
at her. His pupils were dilated, the blue of eyes swallowed by black. “Let’s
get out of here, love.” He took her hand and pulled off the stool, wrapping his
arm around her waist possessively.
They walked away from the bar and towards the door.
Cordelia appeared, looking quite cheerful. “Hey Fred,” she said brightly.
“Hi Cordy,” said Fred. “We were
just leaving.”
“Can I talk to you for a second
before you go?” she asked politely. “Just a girl thing, won’t take a minute.”
Spike’s fingers traced over her
palm, and Fred gulped hard, trying to focus. “Okey doke,” she said.
“Hurry back,” Spike murmured,
placing a gentle kiss on her earlobe.
Cordy and Fred went into the ladies lounge. Wall sconces
illuminated a room tastefully decorated in cream, with gilt mirrors on the
wall, a loveseat, and several wing chairs. “Fred, how many drinks have you
had?” the seer asked.
“Seven,” Fred said, weaving
slightly.
“How about Spike?”
Fred wrinkled her brow. “Lots.
Fifteen?”
“Okay, here’s a piece of advice from Auntie Cordelia.” She
looked at Fred seriously. “You’ve had way too much to drink. He’s had way too
much to drink. Do not let him take you home.”
“We’ll get a cab,” Fred said.
“Safe.”
Cordelia crossed her arms and looked straight in Fred’s
eyes. “I’m not talking about transportation, I’m talking about penetration. You
two go back to the hotel, you will have sex. Sex. With. Spike. Are we clear on
this concept? Fucking the undead.”
“I’m not sure we’ll do the –fucking,” Fred said awkwardly.
“But he seemed to want to do some kissing, and I really like kissing. Long time
since I had kissing.” She sighed, smiling.
Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Yes, but was the idea of
kissing Spike appealing before you drank a gallon of rum? Or are you going to
wake up in the morning and want to strangle yourself for being an idiot?”
Fred thought about it. “I’ve
wanted to kiss him since I first saw him,” she said decisively. “He is so
pretty.”
“Well, I’ll give you that,” Cordy conceded. “And Lorne
gave him the not evil seal of approval. But that doesn’t mean he’ll be a good
guy back at the hotel. He could want to go farther than you do. More
importantly, how are you both going to feel about this tomorrow? Do you care
about him? Is this a friends with benefits thing, or the beginning of dating,
or just drunken stupidity? You should take a minute and figure this out.” Cordelia
gently sat Fred down in a padded chair. “You stay here, and when I come out,
we’ll talk about what you’re going to do.”
“Okay,” Fred agreed.
Cordelia began to walk away and then stopped and turned
back. “And please, consider a human guy. Don’t gloss over that option in the
pondering process.”
“Groo wasn’t human,” Fred
pointed out.
Cordelia frowned. “Whole
different ball of wax.” She opened the door and stepped into the bathroom.
Fred rested her chin on her palms and looked at the toes
of her shoes. Spike. What did she want from Spike?
****
Spike was propped against the wall, waiting for Fred. He
felt terrific. He wanted Fred, and she wanted him, and it had been too long
since he’d had that, the wanting and wanting back.
A familiar face came into his
field of vision. “Spike?” said a sweet voice.
“Elisabeth!” he exclaimed,
surprised.
She hugged him tightly, her face
beaming with delight. “It’s been forever since I’ve seen you!”
“Not since Prague,” he said
quietly.
The blonde pulled away with a frown. “Yes, Prague. What a
horrible time that was. Did Drusilla fully recover?” she asked gently.
“Dru’s right as rain, last I saw
her,” Spike said. “We’re not together anymore.”
She clucked disapprovingly. “What is it with the younger
generation? Don’t you understand the concept of eternal love?”
He gestured towards the locket
that rested above her breasts. “Apparently not as well as you and James.”
Elisabeth smiled up at him, her eyes deep and green. “You
know, we do like a bit of variety. A fresh partner in the bedroom, to keep the
flame of passion ever bright.” She closed her hand over his, pressing it
against her breast. Her other hand trailed up his thigh, slipping between his
legs.
Spike gasped at the same time as he heard a crash from
behind him. Elisabeth dropped her hand and the vampires turned to see Fred,
running up the steps as fast as she could.
“Fred!” Spike yelled, chasing after her. “Fred,
wait!” He ran out of the club and
looked down the street. Fred was walking fast down the pavement, tripping
slightly on her tall heels. He caught up with her, grabbing her arm and turning
her to face him. "It’s not what you think.”
“I may be crazy, but I’m not stupid,” she said angrily.
She jerked her hand out of his grasp and turned away, continuing down the
street.
“You can’t just walk off like
this with no one to look after you,” he said, walking fast to keep up.
"That's a benefit of being
insane," she said. "People tend to leave you alone."
"You're not insane,"
he argued. "There's nothing wrong with you."
She laughed bitterly.
"Apparently there is something wrong with me."
"The only thing wrong with you is that you're
drunk," he said angrily. "I don't know what the hell Lorne was
thinking, buying you all those bloody drinks. They’ve got you all muddled,
making something out of nothing."
"I'm not drunk," she protested. "I'm just
stupid. Stupid naďve little Fred." She laughed. "I'm nobody! Who are
you?"
"Baby, you're raving," he said, concerned.
"It's the alcohol, it's messing with your mind. Let me take you
home."
"I don't have a home," she said. "I have a
cave, that's where I belong. I could go there, stay here. Doesn't matter. I'm
invisible." She waved her arms widely. "You didn't even see me. But I
saw you. And her."
"Quite enough of
that," he said firmly as he took her hand. "You're going to
bed."
"I think you're the one going to bed," she said
bitterly. "She’s very pretty. I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun, fucking
her."
He laughed, surprised. "It
was just a bit of flirtation, pet. All
smoke and no fire; means nothing."
She tried to pull her hand away,
but he held tightly to it. "Let go of me, Spike."
"What is wrong with
you?" he asked adamantly. "I don't understand why you're upset.
Nothing happened."
"I'm tired of feeling stupid, and I'm tired of
hurting. You make me hurt." Her eyes shone with tears, and Spike looked at
her anxiously.
“I don’t want her, I want you, Fred. Please let me make it
up to you. I just want you to be happy," he said sincerely.
"Then leave me alone," she said softly, and
jerked her hand out of his grasp. She teetered off balance, and fell to the
pavement. Spike tried to help her up, but she waved him away.
Cordelia came running up, out of
breath. "Fred? Are you okay?"
"I don't feel well and I
want to go home," Fred said in a strained voice.
"Too many drinks, sweetie?" Cordy asked,
concerned. "I've been there myself." She put her arm around Fred's
shoulders and walked her across the street to her car. "We'll give you the
patented Cordelia Chase no hangover treatment. You'll feel just fine in the
morning."
"I really hope so,"
Fred said.
Spike watched them get in the car and drive away. He
didn't know what the hell was going on. One minute, he was in heaven, and now,
he was back in exile. He turned around and walked back to Caritas.
Gunn and Wesley were talking quietly, their expressions
serious. Angel was chatting with a Suvolte demon, his expression focused. James
and Elisabeth were sitting in a cozy corner, energetically kissing. With a
heavy sigh, Spike sat at the bar and ordered another shot of whisky. He downed
the amber liquid, enjoying the burning sensation as it slid down the throat,
and gestured for another.
Lorne came and sat down next to him. "Slow down,
sweetums. You’ve already polished off a bottle of the good stuff."
Spike shrugged. "I can
handle it."
The Host looked at him
questioningly. "Can you handle it? I'm not so sure."
"What do you mean?"
Spike asked.
"The situation you’ve Romeo’d your way into. Fred is
an extremely fragile soul," Lorne explained. "Pylea is a hard place,
even if you're born into it. To survive as a slave for five years, that took
more than courage. That took drive, tenacity and a single-minded focus. Now
that she's back home, she's floundering. If it wasn't for you, she probably
would have gone under already."
"I don't think I'm helping
her," Spike said, sinking a shot. "I seem to be making her
miserable."
"You kids will work it
out," Lorne assured him. "The course of true love never did run
smooth."
"It helps when the person you love loves you in
return.” The vampire leaned forward, cradling his head in his hands. "She
hates me now; they always wind up hating me.” He laughed painfully. “God,
unrequited love stings like nothing else."
The Host patted his shoulder. "Good thing that's not
what you're dealing with this time around, cowboy." Spike looked at him, his expression
startled.
Lorne walked across the club and took the stage.
“Strangers in the night, exchanging glances," he sang. "Wondr'ing in
the night, what were the chances, we'd be sharing love, before the night is
through."
Spike stared at the wall, his mind racing. It couldn't be
true. Could Fred really love him? "You make me hurt," she'd said. He
thought of her relief when she'd found that Dawn wasn't his girlfriend. Her
reaction tonight to seeing him with Elisabeth. She wanted him, all to herself.
"Strangers in the night," Lorne sang. “Two
lonely people who were strangers in the night, up to the moment when we said
our first hello. Little did we know love was just a glance away, a warm
embracing dance away.”
Spike remembered Fred’s anger when Angel had hit him, the
light in her eyes as they danced, her conviction that he could be a hero, that
he was strong. She loved him. He didn't understand why or how, but he really
didn't care to look too closely. It was a miracle- or a misunderstanding.
Either way, he needed to talk with her- now. He threw a couple of bills on the
bar and ran out of the club.
-TBC-
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