AUTHOR: Sophie
EMAIL: sophie_limbourg@hotmail.com
RATING: PG
PAIRING: Buffy/Spike
SPOILERS: none, AU everyone is human
DISCLAIMER: Nothing is mine.
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I have to get out of here.

As the phrase resonated once again in her head, Buffy decided it was time to do something about it. Discreetly, she freed her arm from Liam’s, who didn’t even notice. He was too busy talking with the Vanderbilt’s. Even at his engagement party his opportunism got the upper hand. He had ignored her most of the evening.

Buffy noticed her mother a little further, smiling and simpering with her guests. This was her moment of fame. She was marrying her only daughter to Liam Fielding, heir of the Fielding’s empire. The upper crust of Chicago’s society was at the Summers’ residence that evening. Even the Vanderbilt’s, who had made the trip from New York to attend the little gathering. It was going to be very intimate, Joyce Summers had decided. Barely 200 guests, only the family and close friends…

So here she was, celebrating her engagement – on Valentine’s Day, no less - to a man she didn’t like at all. But her parents had decided she would marry him. And she had never disobeyed her parents. She had always been a good girl.

God, she was so tired of this.

The young woman reached her mother. I’ll tell her. I’ll tell her I can’t marry Liam. I’ll tell her now.

Joyce welcomed her with a big smile. “Honey, you look so pale! Is something wrong?”

“I…” The words got stuck in her throat. Say it! But twenty years of an excellent education couldn’t be erased like that just because she had a moment of rebellion. “No, I’m fine. Where’s daddy?”

Coward.

“On the terrace, I think. Do you need him?”

“Uh…no. I have a…a slight headache. I’ll go lay down for a minute. Could you excuse me ?”

“But of course dear…” Joyce said, with a little tap on Buffy’s cheek, before returning her attention to her friends.

Buffy found her father Hank on the terrace, drinking whisky. Buffy made a disgust face. She was pretty certain this was not the kind of adulterated whisky that was sold illegally since the prohibition had been declared ten years ago. And she knew very well that her father was implicated with questionable people, even possibly people from the Mob.

She left the reception and walked to the entrance hall. She could see her reflection in the giant mirror that hung there. The reflection of a coward. She was wearing a straight, sparkling pink dress. Her blond hair were attached and curled fashionably. But her green eyes reflected fear, and her face was ghostly white. How come Joyce didn’t notice that terror and confusion in her daughter’s eyes?

On an impulse, Buffy opened the big door and went out, letting the cool night swallow her. She climbed down the steps before stopping, disoriented. Where to go? Left or right? She never went out by herself. If she wanted to, she took her father’s Studebaker, and the chauffeur just drove her wherever she wanted to go.

But tonight, she didn’t know where to go.

She just wanted to get away, as far, as soon as possible.

She noticed a taxi parked a little further down the street. She ran to it and got in without a second thought. Her green eyes met baby blues in the rear-view mirror. The taxi driver, a young man in his twenties, smiled at her.

“Hey miss! Where do you want to go?”

Buffy observed him for a second. He was gorgeous, she thought vaguely, before saying, “I don’t know…Just drive, I’ll let you know when I want to stop.”

“Ok then.”

Spike Fitzimmons discreetly watched his passenger. Very pretty, he thought. Very rich. And very miserable. He had had his share of lost and broken people in his cab, but this one seemed to bear the world’s misery on her frail shoulders.

He drove for a while randomly, before asking, “I’m Spike. What’s your name?”

“Nobody interesting.”

Ouch. The lady didn’t seem to be in a talkative mood. Nevertheless, he resumed the conversation. “The whole town is attending the engagement party of Miss Whatever-her-name-is tonight. Do you know them?”

“You can say that, yes.”

“Oh…you’re part of the family?”

She sighed. “I’m her.”

Spike frowned. “Her who?”

“Miss Whatever-her-name-is. Or, to make it short, Buffy Summers.”

“Oops. Sorry…” But he didn’t look sorry at all, and he smirked and winked at her in the mirror. “As the bride-to-be, aren’t you supposed to entertain your guests then?”

As there was no response coming, he turned around. The girl was crying silently. Bloody Hell, he thought, searching his pocket for his handkerchief.

“Hey, miss, I was kidding. No need to cry like that. What’s wrong?”

She was still sobbing and he handed her the handkerchief. “Here, take it…it’s clean.”

Buffy smiled weakly before wiping her cheek and blowing her nose. “It’s just…I don’t love him, you see.”

“What? My handkerchief? But that’s the only one I have…” he said, teasing her, hoping to see her smile again. When she smiled she was truly beautiful.

She started to laugh and a wide grin spread his lips.

“No, I’m talking about my fiancé…I don’t love him.”

“Well, just break up with the bloke then.”

“That’s easier said than done…and my mom would probably have a hart attack or something.”

“She would get over it.”

“I tried to talk to her tonight…but I didn’t dare…I couldn’t.” She looked down on the handkerchief that she was wringing. “I don’t know what to do…but if I don’t do anything, my life is ruined. Oh God!” she exclaimed suddenly, putting her hand on her mouth, looking through the window. Spike stared out in the same direction, expecting a horde of heavily armed gangsters, but saw nothing.

“What?”

“I left without any money. I can’t pay you!”

He laughed out loud. “That’s what you worry about? Don’t bother. It’s all right. My duty is over for today anyway. Shall I get you back home?”

“Well yes…I guess.”

Her enthusiasm made him smile. He didn’t know if he was going to regret this, but…what the Hell. “Listen…After hours I play in a little jazz band in a club nearby. I’m going there now. Care to join me?”

She didn’t hesitate. “I’d love to.”

Since the smile was back on her face, he estimated it was worth it. At some point tonight, he would have to remember she was a rich high society girl, and he was just a poor English taxi driver far away from home…just not now.

“A pretty bird like you shouldn’t cry,” he said, and was glad to see her blush.

A few minutes later, he parked in a dark street. “I know it’s not very posh,” he apologised. “And it’s kind of ill-frequented too. You see the small window with the light over there? It’s a clandestine drinking shop. They proliferate around here. Just stick with me, ok?”

She was too glad to comply, slipping her little hand in his. She trusted him totally. And when she looked at him, she was feeling strange twist in her stomach. In a very good way.

“Come on. You’re going to hear what good music is!”

Spike knocked on the door and muttered what seemed to be a password. The door opened and a tall and large bouncer let them walked into a long corridor. He smiled at Spike.

“Hey Spike. They were waiting for you.”

“Hi Jim. This is Buffy.”

“Nice to meet you, miss.”

She smiled back at him timidly. Spike dragged her to the end of the corridor, where he opened a second door, leading to the club.

The room was incredibly smoky. Tables were gathered here and there around a dance floor and a stage where a band was playing. The place was crowded. The customers were drinking, playing cards and other games, flirting, seemingly having a lot of fun. Opening her wide eyes, Buffy couldn’t help but compare with the stiff atmosphere of her engagement party.

She turned to Spike. “I think I’m gonna like it here.”

He smiled at her “And you haven’t seen anything yet.”

He led her to a small table near the stage and ordered a drink for her. The other employees and some customers were greeting him warmly. He seemed to be very much appreciated. And Buffy was starting to appreciate him a lot as well…

Spike showed her a beautiful black young woman in a red dress. “This is Billie, our singer. She has an incredible voice. Just listen, ok?”

He took his place behind the piano and started to play along with the band. The crowd was now turning its attention to the stage, and when the lights were directed on Billie, there were cheers and clapping. The band stopped for a minute and then Spike started a piano solo. Billie’s voice rose.

“The very thought of you…And I forget to do…Those little ordinary thing…that everyone ought to do…I’m living in a kind of daydream…I’m happy as a queen…It’s just the thought of you, the very thought of you my love…”

There was a religious silence in the club until the last note. Buffy was transported by the music and Billie’s voice. She was pretty sure now that there was some guardian angel watching for her, which made it possible to meet Spike and come here on what was supposed to be the most dreadful night of her life. She saw Spike looking at her, and boldly, she blew him a kiss.

The band played a few more songs. Afterwards, Spike came to sit with Buffy.

“So?” he asked expectantly.

“That was wonderful! Billie has an extraordinary voice. And you are an excellent piano player,” she added, blushing.

Her eyes were shining and her face had recovered nice colours. She had nothing to do anymore with the girl that had climbed into his cab a few hours before. Which reminded him…

“Maybe I should take you home now,” he said reluctantly.

A shadow passed on her face. “Yes, I suppose.”

He intertwined their hands and they stayed like that for a moment, looking at each other and smiling. Then Spike got up. “Let’s go then.” He said a little bit abruptly. No need to get too involved. What he was feeling was already scaring the hell out of him.

They reached the exit, saying goodbye to Jim. “Night, Spike. Be careful. There’s a little too much traffic for my taste here tonight.”

“Ok, thanks. See you tomorrow.”

They were both walking to the taxi. Just when Spike was opening the door, two cars’ headlights appeared in the night.

“Get down!” Spike shouted, and they both kneeled, Spike’s body protecting hers.

The car, a big black Packard, stopped in front of the clandestine drinking shop. Shocked, Buffy saw four armed men stepping out of the vehicle and entering the building. There were some shouts, a burst of gunfire, and screams. Just a few minutes later, the four men were out, climbing in the Packard and leaving.

Silence fell back on the street. Like nothing had happened.

“Are you ok?” Spike asked, helping Buffy to get up.

Terrified, Buffy nodded slowly. Spike helped her to sit in the car.

“Better not stick around here,” he muttered. He pulled off the curve and drove around the streets of Chicago before saying, “Nice little settling of scores between gangs. Those won’t have a good memory of their Valentine’s day!”

“The guys in the Packard…they were the mafia, right? They were disguised as cops, but they were the Mob?”

He shot her a surprised glance. “How come a nice and pretty girl like you knows anything about the Mob?”

“I read about it…and I’m afraid that my father…well, he has those ‘friends’, you know…I’m not stupid.”

“I realize that, yeah,” he smiled. “And you are right. I’m pretty sure Al Capone was amongst them.”

“Shouldn’t we tell the police? I mean, the real one?”

Spike laughed. “The police? They are as corrupt as the rest of them, believe me. But I heard something about a small group of cops led by a guy named Ness…” He shrugged. “I’m not sure they’ll be able to do anything, though.”

He suddenly stopped the car – they were in front of her home.

“There you are miss. I hope your night was interesting,” he said, smiling.

“Interesting is too weak a word…but I know it was the best I’ve had in a very, very long time.” She put her hand on his arm. “Thank you, Spike.”

He shrugged again, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t do much.” Come on, ask her out again! A little voice said. He ignored it. What was the use?

“You did more than you think.” She looked at him for a moment, like she was waiting for him to say something. Then she leaned and put a soft kiss on his mouth.

She was dying to ask him if they could see each other again. But shyness, and that damn education kept her tongue-tied.

She left the car and ran to her house. She walked in and closed the door behind her with a last wave of hand.

Only then did Spike start the car, the smell of her perfume and the softness of her lips marking his memory for what would probably be a very long time.

§§§§§§§§§§

The massacre that took place in Bugs Moran shop the night of Valentine’s Day was on the front page of every newspaper the next morning.

However, it was almost unnoticed at the Summers Residence, because the only daughter of the house had suddenly declared that she was breaking her engagement and that she wanted to have her freedom.

“But how are you going to live?” her mom whined, horrified by her daughter’s sudden and unexpected rebellion.

“I’ll work. I’ll find something. I put some money on the side. I’ll find a place to live. I need to do this, mother.”

“My God! What if you land in one of those gangster’ infested places?”

“They won’t be worse than those coming to visit Daddy here for the last few years,” Buffy replied nonchalantly. Her father’s face turned a nice shade of green, and he didn’t dare to contest his daughter’s decision. He even agreed to help her find a nice little apartment…

Absently, Spike was playing on the piano. Like every night, the club was full. But he wasn’t in the mood anymore. He should never have brought her here. Now it seemed empty and uninteresting. And to think music was his passion. But that was before…

Eddie, the barman, approached him. “Spike, there’s a customer who wants you to play this.”

Spike took the small paper and read it. In a very elegant writing he read ‘The very thought of you’. His heart skipped a beat. “Who asked for this?”

“The pretty blonde over there. Isn’t she the one you brought here the other night?”

Spike followed Eddie’s finger and met the green eyes he couldn’t forget. She smiled shyly. She did seem slightly uncomfortable, like she wasn’t sure this was a good idea.

“Tell her we’ll play it right now. And that I dedicate it to her.”

Eddie went back to Buffy and repeated the words. She blushed and a wide smile spread her lips.

When the band was done, Spike immediately went to her table. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You came.” He couldn’t hide how pleased he was. Hell, he didn’t want to hide it.

She nodded. “I broke up with Liam. And I’m leaving the house. Going to live by myself. It’s probably crazy, but it never felt so right!”

He took her hand and placed a kiss on her palm. She shivered. “You were the first person I wanted to tell,” she whispered, putting in her eyes all the words she didn’t dare to express – yet. And he heard every one of them.

“So…do you have any plans for the rest of the night?” he asked.

“No…But I might need a taxi later,” she said, having trouble breathing under his blue gaze.

He leant to her, his mouth inches from hers, smiling. “ Then you definitely found the right guy, miss.”

The End