Her Saving Grace, Prologue/?, Spike/Fred, R

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

Doing a quick fly-by post for this one; if there's any mistakes, please let me know. And I swear if you comment I will reply eventually. So sorry I've been so away this week.

Title: Her Saving Grace
Rating: R
Pairing: Spike/Fred, mentions slight Fred/Wesley
Spoilers: Angel S5
Chapter: Prologue of ?
Prompt: #15 of tamingthemuse: Glissade
Warnings: Character death (not the permanent variety)
Summary: An accident one night changes Fred's entire world. Shunned by the people who should care the most, she turns to the one person who does care, and finds something beyond friendship.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Seriously. Not even my mind these days.

The noises from above were loud enough to infiltrate through two floors into the usually silent lab. The pulsing from the speakers could be barely felt, and she didn't like it. With a frown Fred shook herself to rid herself of the sensation. Why did they have to play things on bass all the time? Wasn't it bound to hurt Angel's sensitive vampire ears?

Maybe he just didn't care anymore. She didn't know exactly what he cared about anymore.

Wolfram and Hart had changed everyone around her. Gunn didn't like to hang out and watch goofy Kung-Fu movies anymore. He was all Mr. Legal and into being a mature adult, and maybe she was a child, but Fred didn't see the fun in it.

Angel had changed the most, probably. He didn't go out night after night and save people; he sat behind a desk most of the time and glared at the papers on it. He expected his blood at a certain time, barked at Harmony, wasn't really all that patient with everyone else...

Lorne had changed a little, but it was Wesley who had changed the most severely to her. In the blink of an eye, she saw him transition from a worried friend to a blank colleague who stood taller, more formidable and darker than before. She kept thinking that something besides Wolfram and Hart had done this to him, but whenever she thought about it, the thought itself disappeared. It was like it was slipping away into a black hole that was never meant to have light shined on it.

It scared her. It made her wonder why this move to Wolfram and Hart had been a good thing.

She'd rather forsake her beautiful new laboratory and shiny white lab coats for the old times. She missed being the one to help the helpless. She missed Cordelia and tacos late at night.

She felt out of place, a little country girl lost in a massive law firm that felt like it would swallow her whole. Worst yet, no one else seemed to care, because they didn't feel the same way as she did. She couldn't really talk to anyone about how she felt.

“Skip the party, pet?”

A smile was already on her lips when she turned to see Spike in the doorway. “I'm not much for big parties,” she said softly. She wished she could be, wished she wasn't the girl who felt left out.

“Even the broodin' hulk's up there, puttin' on his best suit and handin' out champagne with a smile for the guests,” Spike continued, stepping forward into her lab. “And the prettiest one isn't up there dancin' with them.”

She blushed, giving him a small, pleased smile. “I don't like champagne at all, actually. And I don't like to dance like that,” she told him. The last part was half-true; she didn't like to dance in a massive group, throwing herself to the beat with wild abandon.

It was because she worried about looking like a buffoon that she didn't like to dance like that.

He tilted his head, regarding her with a solemn gaze for a moment, before saying quietly, “Wesley didn't ask you to join him tonight, did he?”

She blinked, wondering how he could be so intuitive. Wesley hadn't asked her to join the party tonight, and not just because everyone had been invited. He'd been busy with his papers, and when she'd stopped in to see him that afternoon, he hadn't even said anything to her.

He said he liked her, but she didn't see how sometimes. She probably would've gone, if he'd just asked her. She didn't like big crowds, but...if he'd just asked.

She shrugged dismissively when she realized he was still gazing at her. “He's had a lot on his mind. Besides, I don't like to dance like that.”

“Well, how do you like to dance?” he asked curiously.

Fred bit her lip, thinking it over. “Um...ballet? I took lessons a long time ago, but it was still fun.”

Spike raised his eyebrow at her, but his eyes twinkled. “Were you any good at it?”

“I thought I was,” she said, giving him a grin. “It's been ages, though.”

Moving back against the opposite lab table, he leaned back and said, “Lemme see.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Lemme see you dance,” he repeated slowly. “You can't sit down here and do work all night.”

“Can too,” she found herself saying.

His grin widened. “C'mon; tonight's supposed to be a night for fun and dancin'. Let's at least have one of them, eh?”

Fred stepped forward hesitantly, feeling foolish. “I'm not really dressed for it,” she said, glancing down at her knee-length skirt and her lab coat. Her hair was down, and her glasses were perched on the rim of her nose. She didn't feel or look much like a ballerina.

“You'll be fine,” he assured her. “What are the steps...there's an arabesque, I think.”

“That's it,” she said, surprised that he'd known the definition. When he looked at her expectantly, she sighed but pulled herself up like she'd been taught to do. She stepped onto her right foot, letting her left leg extend behind her until her skirt refused to raise any higher. Her arms went up and out, and she was pretty impressed with her ability to remember everything she'd learned over ten years ago.

“See,” Spike said, sounding smug and happy with himself. She gave him a look, and he chuckled. “How about a pliè?”

She rolled her eyes. “That's too easy.” Nevertheless, she brought her legs together, placing one foot in front of the other, before slowly bending down. Her skirt didn't let her go very far again, but she managed it without sticking her head or her rear out. She remembered her teacher telling her she looked like an ostrich, and to stop it.

“Pirouette?” Spike asked, bringing her from her thoughts.

Fred raised her eyebrow at him, making her glasses tip down further on her nose. “How come you know so many of these?”

Slowly he pushed himself away from the bench. He reached out and gently pulled her glasses from her face. For some reason, his tenderness made her breath catch, and her heart felt harder and more insistent against her ribcage. “I just do,” he said softly.

Their eyes locked and held, and Fred wondered what color blue his eyes really were. They were beautiful.

She blinked, tearing herself from her thoughts. She quickly went up on her right tip-toe, spinning around with her arms up and out once more, and her left foot even pointed towards her right knee. She completed the rotation, and was happy to find that there was a little more distance between them. “See?” she said, giving him a smile. “Easy as pie.”

He stepped away, back towards his bench, and Fred was relieved and disappointed all at once. “How about a glissade?” he asked.

“Yes, I know that one too,” she said. “It was a lot more fun with a partner, actually.”

“You've done this with a partner?” Spike asked, looking intrigued. “Pray, do tell.”

Fred gave a sheepish smile. “Well, it was only this one boy in our class, and half the time he ended up dropping us, but when he did get it right, it was pretty neat.”

He raised his eyebrows, and she forced her face to not color. It wasn't as if she'd had daydreams about Tyler Madison. He'd been a nice boy, sure, with curly brown hair and a dimpled smile, but she hadn't crushed on him for multiple years.

Okay, maybe she had. It wasn't as if he'd noticed her.

She realized she'd wandered off into her thoughts again, and went straight into the glissade to take her mind away from her, er, mind. She bent at the knees, reaching her right foot out to the side, doing a low hop from the right to the left, careful to keep her legs straight until she'd landed. Then she allowed her knees to bend slightly, to finish the move.

“You didn't do it right,” Spike said, causing her to blink and look up.

“I didn't?” she asked. She mentally started going through the steps, but Spike shook his head.

“Just do it again,” he said. She sighed, but moved to go back. Bend slightly, put your left foot out, hop and put your weight on your left foot, and...

Fred gasped as she was lifted, and her hands immediately went to the hands around her waist. They were cool to the touch, soft and firmly holding her, and despite her sudden lift, she found she really didn't mind.

She was placed gently on the ground, where she paused for a few moments. “Wow,” she finally said, turning and giving Spike a goofy grin. “That was really cool.”

Spike returned the grin. “Welcome. Thought you might enjoy it.”

“Would've enjoyed a little warning, too,” she teased.

He shrugged, not looking very penitent. “I wouldn't have dropped you,” he said, and he did sound seriously then.

“I know,” she said, her own voice having taken on a more serious tone as well. His eyes locked with hers again, and she made a mental note to not do that anymore. Especially since she still liked Wesley.

Spike must've seen something in her face, because he casually let go and stepped away. “You looked good, even in a lab coat,” he said, smiling. “Bet no other ballerina's ever going to be able to say that.”

“Probably not,” Fred admitted. “I like being the one and only.”

Spike chuckled and headed for the door. She watched him go, appreciating his tactfulness in the matter. She watched as he slid around a figure coming for the lab doors, who turned to stare at him darkly before entering the lab. It was Wesley.

He gave her a small smile, and she felt her heart do the usual Wesley's-in-the-room-pitter-patter. “I hated to think of you missing out tonight,” he said, handing one of the tall glasses in his hand to her. It was full of champagne.

Gingerly she took the bubbling drink and gave him a small smile of her own. “There was a lot of work to catch up on. Plus, not a big party person.”

He gave a small 'hmm' and sipped at his champagne. Hesitantly she took a sip of her own, grimacing at the taste on her tongue and the bubbles that rose up her nose. This was why she couldn't stand champagne; she'd have much rather have had a soda of some type. Give her Pepsi, Dr. Pepper, Sprite, and she would've been happy.

She wasn't made to be a fancy girl. She was just Fred.

And Fred was just a little country girl who liked to do ballet for friendly vampires. Nothing more.

From the shadows outside the lab, two blue eyes watched her shift uncomfortably, glancing around when she could for a place to dump the champagne. The same blue eyes watched her finally locate the sink not too far behind her, and casually tip the contents of the glass into it.

Those blue eyes also caught that Wesley never noticed, too lost in his own drink and whatever was in the man's mind. It worried him; Wesley wasn't the type of man who should be near Fred. Fred was too breakable, sometimes.

Tucking his worried thoughts away, Spike stepped further back into the shadows and waited until Wesley left, before leaving himself.

~Nebula

Comments

[authoressnebula.livejournal.com]

Coming from you, this is high praise of the best kind. I know you're not really into this pairing, so I'm doubly glad you liked it! There'll be more sweet moments to come, I hope.

And I didn't comment on your fic yet, but I did just read it, with the Glass Witch? That was amazing! I loved the imagery! It was beautiful and sweet and full of flowing moves in the water. I loved it.

~Nebula

[apsik.livejournal.com]

Coming from you, this is high praise of the best kind. *blink* It is?? Well now. that's... good to know ;] thanks!

*grins* Makes me smile you liked it - it always boosts up my confidence when someone who's writing I know and love tells me a compliment :] *hugs*