Waltz With Me

by Isabelle

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, lalalalala. Lyrics belong to Tonic, and are titled the same as this chapter.

Summary: Dancing, was not dancing unless they were dancing.

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He told her that the first thing he wanted to do when he left that place was to go dancing. Dancing until their legs gave out in exhaustion, dance until there was no tomorrow, and show off what they knew.

She told him she basically knew how to move to funky music, that ballroom was not really her style.

He had pulled her down on the bed with him and told her he would teach her.

He would teach her how to dance... how to really dance.

She had laughed at the fact that he claimed he knew how to dance. He smiled shyly and confessed that Dru loved dancing...plus he was raised a proper gentleman.

She told him she always wanted to marry a gentleman.

They said nothing of the M word, skipped it and ignored it and went dancing.

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The place he took her was called Dario's, he had bought her a strappy red dress, with two high slits on the side and plenty of cleavage, new black shoes fit for Fred Astaire and a tight bun on her head that was guaranteed to survive all of the twists and twirls he had promised her.

She gasped as she saw him walk out, dressed in a black tailored suit, with a smooth red silk shitty, open at the neck, scarf stuffed in his pocket.

"Who are you trying to impress?" she teased him, pulling him against her.

"Just you." he smiled at her, eating her alive with his eyes, devouring her with his thoughts.

"It worked," she spoke against his lips, silken lips. Lips of Spike.

Waltz with me
My love
Tell me what
You're dreaming of
Hold me now
We can share our love
Waltz with me My love

He had taken her hand and took her to the place, held her against him when the crowds got too big, bought her drinks and growled an earthly growl to guys who gave her a too-appreciative-look.

When the music started he told her, "For once, let me lead."

And she did, and by the time the second Salsa song ended, she knew the steps. His slayer was always a bright one. When Bachata started, he held her flush against his body, never breaking eye contact except when he twirled her, and spinned her, and left her out of breath.

And when this big-boobed, French girl wanted to cut in and dance with him, he kindly told her that he was taken. In French.

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She always wondered how an Englishman got gifted with such delicious hip movement. She realized that night that it was all because of Merengue. Thank god for Spike's hips, hips of Spike.

When she wanted to sit it out, take a table by the corner, sip her drink and just be held, he let her do so.

"I like this place." she told him. "I like New Orleans."

He had laughed and asked her how long she wanted to stay here.

"As long as you like, my love." she had told him. She had never called him her love before.

He didn't let her go for the rest of the dances, for the rest of their 'break', for the rest of the night, for the rest of their lives.

They came three times a week to the place, the staff knew them as the white couple who could dance and when they danced they stole the show. She learned all of his dances and they moved together like there was nothing but cells between them.

Paint your face
For me
Only here Is where I want to be
Next to you
While I watch you sleep
Waltz with me My love

They loved New Orleans and it loved them. And one night he woke to find her starring at him while he slept. He asked her if she was ok.

"Spike...I want to live. I do." tears were running down her cheeks. "But I don't know how."

He had smiled at her, and kissed her nose. "Let me show you."

"You'll show me? You'll bless me with your gift of life?"

"Not a gift. Just love. Love will make you live."

"Then bless me. Bless me, William."

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Tell me something
Will we be broken down
Tell me something
Will we be broken down
Will we be broken down

They left New Orleans when she got pregnant. He moved her to a Connecticut suburb, took up writing about his tales as a vampire and made loads of money.

Their daughter was named Joyce Alexandra (for Xander), their son was named William Reginald, like his father.

He made sure their house had a white picket fence, and that she didn't have to work.

And when their children asked them when they met, they always told them 'when our lives started'.

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The End

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