Ballroom Blitz

Ballroom Blitz

By: Aurelia Carlisle

The girl was shoved to the hard concrete by strong, rough hands. Her entire body ached from being manhandled since the alley.

She tried desperately to stop shaking, to go limp. If she stopped moving, maybe they would think she was dead, and maybe, just maybe, they would leave her alone. Looking back, the whole night had been a disaster.

Her date, a fellow coed and total creep, asked her of her favorite sex position, her preferred form of torture and her dress size. Needless to say, the night had been a bust.

She thought she was free when she began the short-cut to her dorm. She was wrong.

The jerk tackled her in an alley, then dragged her to (what she could only guess as) an abandoned warehouse nearby.

As she came back to the present she could hear the guy through the wall, talking to someone.

"So, what did you think," he asked eagerly.

"Well," the other began, "she is a bit skinny."

"Ugh," she scoffed.

"But she’ll do, right?" he pushed, "I mean, she felt pretty spry, wiggling to get away. Might make for a fine dance partner…"

"Oh, she’ll do alright," the other replied, "Did you get her measurements?"

"Mmhmm," he said, "She’s a size five."

"Five? FIVE?!" he raged, "I told you to get her measurements not her goddamn dress size!"

"Maybe you shoulda been more specific, man!"

"I swear if you mess this up for me… I haven’t been in nearly a century!"

"Sorry, man. I didn’t know."

"Just don’t do it again…"

What the hell , she thought. Partner? And what did they need her measurements for, anyway? She gasped. What if they were going to sell her off or something? Or worse: what if they ate her?

Part One

"Mmm… yummy, greasy, ground meat-y, burger goodness!" said a very pleased Xander before diving into his sandwich.

"Ugh!" moaned Willow, "How can you eat so much crap?"

"What?" he defended through a mouthful of beef, "I’m a man!"

"Yes he is," agreed Anya, "He’s such a man, I don’t have to worry when he wears my und-"

"Hahaha," Xander laughed loudly, effectively drowning out his girlfriend, "My girl; such a kidder!" He turned to Anya "You remember what I said about secrets and how they’re less secret when my friends know them?"

"Know what?" asked Buffy as she took a seat next to Willow.

"Nothing," yelped Xander, changing the subject. "So how’s Dawnie? Still freaked?"

"Pretty much," Buffy began, "Can’t say I blame her; it’s not everyday that you get handed something like this?" At their looks, she continued, "…unless you live here."

"That’s Sunnydale for ya," Willow commented, "Come for the sun, stay for the carnage."

"Actually," interjected Buffy, "Patrol’s been kinda quiet lately. Neither a horn nor fang to speak of."

"All play and no work make Buffy a dull girl?" asked Xander playfully. "Wasn’t there a time when we didn’t wish for demons?"

"Before or after I killed my boyfriend?" she speculated sarcastically.

"Both," replied Willow," Speaking of boyfriends, how are you holdin’ up?"

"As well as can be expected. I’m just trying to keep myself busy, which, with this demon shortage, is failing miserably."

"Don’t worry, Buffster," Xander consoled her. "You’ll find somebody."

"Oh no," Buffy disagreed, "No boys for Buffy. The last thing I need is somebody else to drive away."

"Come on, Buffy," encouraged Willow, "Isn’t there somebody you can see yourself with?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Spike!" Buffy growled after kicking in the crypt door, "How could you?"

"What?" he asked defiantly, "What have I done to get your knickers in such a twist ?"

"How could you let her find out like that?" she questioned, "Do you hate me that much?"

"You think I did that on purpose? Was kept in the dark, wasn’t I? How was I supposed to know kid sis was a sodden mystical key thing?"

"You lead my little sister into town in the middle of the night. Anything could’ve happened. She could have been hurt or killed!"

"I wouldn’t’ve let anything happen to the bit, you know that! Perhaps if someone had filled me in, she wouldn’t have known at all!"

"What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, by the way, Spike, Dawn’s actually a mystical ball of green energy’?"

"Well, yeah," Spike fired back, "That would’ve been- she’s green?"

"Apparently," she said as she plopped down into his comfy chair. "The point is, Spike…What’s this?" She picked up a piece of parchment that caught her eye. "You get mail delivered to a cemetery?"

"It’s the hellmouth, Slayer. What do you expect?" he retorted snatching the paper back.

"Wait," she said, "Is that an invitation?" she gasped mockingly. "You have friends?"

"Don’t be so surprised," he retorted, "I even have fans."

"You’re lying," she replied in utter disbelief.

"Nope," he said taking a seat facing her on a sarcophagus. "You see, Slayer, when you’ve been around as long as I have, you tend to get noticed."

"Yeah," Buffy scoffed, studying her fingernails, "I wonder what they’d think of you now that you’re impotent."

"You say that, luv," he drawled dangerously, "I won’t be on this leash forever."

"I know," she replied reluctantly. "What’s this invitation to anyways: Hemophiliacs Anonymous?"

"No," he answered annoyed, "It’s to a ball.""A ball, huh?" she ventured, "What kind of ball?""Read it for yourself…" he said tossing it to her. She caught it and studied the elegant font on the thick parchment:

Ballroom Blitz 2001

William, The Bloody (plus one),

You are cordially invited to

The 150^{th annual Ball}

At Westfield Mansion

On the Fourteenth day of April

Guests are required ballroom attire

(BYOB)

"Hmm," she commented, handing the paper back to Spike, "sounds interesting."

"’S not your kind of party, pet, trust me."

"Hey," Buffy objected. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"You wouldn’t exactly fit in, luv," he reasoned offhandedly."Oh, I see. Are they your kinda people? The mosh-pitting, punk-rocking, drunken, puke on your shoes folks?"

"More like the waltzing, classical music, champagne swigging, suck your blood type."

"They’re vamps?" she asked disapprovingly. "So the 150 wasn’t a typo," at his look she rolled her eyes. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Of course they’re vamps. Most’ve ‘em have been around since the first one. All of ‘em are older ones."

"So let me get this straight, there’s been a ginormous meeting of elder vamps every year, right under my nose?"

"Nothin’ to worry your pretty little head about, Slayer," he assured her chauvinistically. "It’s not even held in Sunnydale."

"Where?"she simply asked."LA.""Do you have a date?""Well, no. I just got the invite."

"Now ya do."

"No way in hell, Summers," he excalimed turing the other way, "I already get enough grief for helpin' your lot now and then. The last thing I need is the rest of the demon population thinkin' I'm your fucking lapdog!"

"No laps will be involved, believe me."