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by Chris Kenworthy (scoobyhq@fcmail.com)
Disclaimer: Don't own Buffy the vampire Slayer or the characters of any of the Slayerettes. (Probably a good thing too.)
"Evening, ma'am," Jonny murmured, nodding his head to her respectfully.
"Why thank you, Mister Hardcastle," she replied evenly. "I love your costume. Jim Stark from Rebel without a cause??"
Jonny could only stare at her in disbelief. "No!" Celia only shrugged and proceeded into the club, and after a few seconds Jonny followed.
He couldn't recognize anyone for a minute or so, but then a pair of leather-gloved hands covered his eyes from behind, and a knee rubbed against the back of his thighs. "Guess who?" a throaty voice whispered from behind him.
"Um, Pamela Anderson? No, Faith. No, Elvira, the mistress of the dark," Jonny joked. Faith's strong hands flew down to his arms and turned him around quickly.
The slayer seemed to be glaring with Selina Kyle-like indignation, but the way her eyes glinted told him that she knew it had been a joke. "Hi, Jonny. Yeah, I like that costume. Danny Zuko from 'Grease' was a good choice."
"Very funny, sweetheart," Jonny laughed dryly and deliberately. "Any sightings of mysterious characters who could be vamps?"
"Not yet," Faith said. "There's a lot of people here, though, as you might have noticed."
"Why, yes, I did notice that, honey." Jonny said. "Shall we mingle together, and see what we can see then?" He extended a forearm and elbow towards Faith in a chivalrous gesture.
"I'd be delighted to," Faith said, linking her arm with his.
(Near the refreshments table,)
The voice rang out from directly behind Mister Giles. "Hello?"
Giles started and turned around. Sure enough, it was Celia. A smile briefly lit to his face, followed by a frown. "Well hello," he started sourly. "You might have warned me you were coming."
"You rushed off the line before I could..." Celia begain evenly.
"Oh, no," Giles interrupted. "Did Faith tell you? There were very good reasons to keep you out of this..."
"Out of what?" Celia broke in. "What's going on here? I just came down here to see you, and maybe dance a dance for new times' sake. What's the 'this?'"
Giles sighed, drew her close, and whispered quietly to her. "There is a chance that the Brotherhood will be causing some sort of trouble at the dance."
Celia turned up to stare at him. "Okay. And what was the very good reason not to let me know of this?"
"I knew you would come if you knew, and it would be better for one member of the team not to be at ground zero..."
"Don't give me that, Rupert!" Celia snapped, and several others around them looked over towards the two of them in surprise. Celia lowered her voice and hissed. "If you really thought that, you'd have tried to sell it to me openly. The only reason you'd freeze me out is if you think I can't defend myself."
"Well, you haven't been..."
"I am a Watcher, and that means I am by definition competent in combat. Adding to that the chance I have to use empathic projection as a weapon, I think I'm justified in exposing myself to danger."
"But..." Giles started.
"Further, I think it's incredibly presumptuous of you to make such a judgement without informing me of it!" Celia turned on her heel and strode off to the ladies room.
Giles watched her go in silence, then breathed a longsuffering sigh. "And I thought these histrionics were the exclusive perogative of teenagers," he commented to no-one in particular.
(Out on the dance floor.)
'Dingoes ate my baby' switched from a fast song to a slow one, and Willow looked over at Xander, just a little embarassed.
Finding the situation a little awkward himself, Xander compensated as he was wont to, with humor. "May I have this dance, Miss Peel?" he inquired in that awful British accent, bowing purposefully so low that his bowler hat fell off. (His umbrella was back at their table, which Buffy was keeping.)
Willow couldn't keep back the chuckle as Xander bent down to recover the hat, and fell down himself, probably also on purpose. "Okay, enough, I give," she said, helping him back up. Slightly awkwardly, they moved into each other's arms for a slow dance.
Silence spread itself over the seconds. "Uh, so, how're you doing?" Xander asked.
"Uh, weird," Willow admitted. "I wished so many times that I could get to dance with you like this, but..." she trailed off into pregnant silence.
"Uh, really? You did??"
"Well, yeah," Willow fixed him with her 'you did know that' gaze.
"What? I kinda picked up that you had a crush on me, but I never asked about the details of your lurid fantasies." He made a little half-snorting sound.
"Xander!" Willow looked as if she wanted to hit Xander, but that was prohibited by the particulars of their dancing. "I think you're the only one with the lurid fantasies here."
"Really?" Xander teased her. "Well, I think you'd be surprised how many of my fantasies star you, Willow Rosenberg."
"Alone or with other girls?" Willow joked back.
"Willow!" Xander looked into her green eyes speculatively. "You know, the oddest thought just occured to me."
"Oh, really?" Willow recited back dutifully. "And what would that thought be?"
"That I should kiss you now."
"Really?" Willow shook her head just a little, probably not consciously, but the small motion made her red hair fly out a little, and bounce back in a beautiful shimmer.
"Yes indeed, my dear. Do you think I should kiss you now?"
"Hmm," Willow pretended to give the matter weighty consideration. "I think it would be an interesting experiment."
Xander brought his head forward towards hers, tilting it just enough. But something within him, some buried fear, seemed to keep him from bringing his lips to Willow's. Willow moved her face a little closer to his, but didn't complete the contact, perhaps unsure of what to do, maybe struck by the same unidentifiable terror as Xander. They slowly drifted to a mutual standstill in the middle of the dance floor, held in perplexing thrall.
Finally Xander pushed his face forward and kissed Willow on the lips. Within a second, however, the clinch had broken up as both of them dissolved into helpless laughter.
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