TITLE: Bailamos
AUTHOR: Ragna (writinggoddess@aol.com)
RATING: FRT
CLASSIFICATION: Anya/Spike
SPOILERS: Set in what would speculatively be season 6. So...season 4 spoilers.
DISTRIBUTION: Sure, just keep my name on it and let me know.
DISCLAIMER: If you don't recognize it, chances are it's my own creation. If you do, Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kazui Sandollar, FOX and the WB own it or them. I'm just holding Spike hostage. Carolyn's got Xander, May's got Oz, Cathryn's got Ethan, Nikki's got Giles and Shelly has Angel. Gillian, for the hell of it, has Ewan McGregor, but she shares with Rae. You may see them by appointment only. Enrique Iglesias sings the song "Bailamos" which is on the Wild Wild West soundtrack.
FEEDBACK: Sorry I'm not home right now I'm walking in the spiderwebs so leave a message and I'll call you back...in other words, I want it. Don't care if it's onlist or not.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: I was inspired by the video for Bailamos. Sue me; I got bored and this fic basically wrote itself. And I think I'm one of the first to do a Spike/Anya pairing. Hope you all enjoy...

***

The Bronze had been buzzing with Latino music all night. The sensuous beats and catchy pop hooks were like magnets, drawing people who normally wouldn't dance out onto the floor.

However, one female sat in the back, completely content with just watching her friends make asses out of themselves on the dance floor.

Buffy had some semblance of knowing what she was doing, but Xander was hopeless. Cordy was dancing with a random guy or two or three seeing as how Angel had laughingly steered away from the dance floor at all times, even when he was in Sunnydale visiting Buffy and the other Scoobies. Willow and Oz were just dancing closely. Glancing at her watch, she sighed.

Spike was late.

Again.

This was getting to be a nasty habit of his.

She shook her head. Buffy was stoked because Latin Night had fallen on her twenty-first birthday and had insisted on dragging all of them to the Bronze. She had protested, of course, until Spike said he would meet her there at nine sharp.

Noting it was almost ten, Anya was a bit more than pissed. She grabbed her purse and headed onto the floor towards her sister. Suddenly, the song changed to the infectious rhythm of a song Anya knew well.

A hand grasped her wrist, took her purse and dropped it back on the table. "Sorry I was late, love." Spike spun Anya around a few times, ending with her facing him.

"I should hurt you," she spat out, more upset than anything else.

"You wouldn't, though. Because you care for me."

"And why I do that I have no earthly idea."

Spike shook his head and pulled her out onto the floor. "I know you can tango and salsa and mambo...want to show the teenagers how it's done?"

He started the pace, taking the lead. It was something she had guessed he could do, having been around as long as he had been. But she hadn't guessed he could do it well.

She fell in step quickly, noting that more and more of the clubs patrons fell back to watch. They got as close as they and their clothes could possibly allow, the rhythm taking over their bodies as the danced.

"I am truly sorry," Spike said, dipping her and pulling her back around.

"I was starting to wonder why I picked you over Xander after all," she said, her head coming back up, her eyes looking directly into his.

"Because I convinced you with my extraordinary talent of persuasion?"

"Could be more like you're a demon and you understand what my life was like. And because you're sexy." He smiled finally and she suddenly forgot she was supposed to be angry at him.

"I mean, you were a demon," she continued, feeling his now warm hands run up and down her bare back. She thanked God the she had let Buffy persuade her into wearing the low but spaghetti strap dress.

"Being human again isn't so bad," he said, switching from a salsa move to a tango one, whirling her out and bringing her back in, dipping her once more.

"I still hate it," she muttered, her face an inch away from his.

"Me too. But misery loves company and we seems to be each other's," he said, realizing he made very little sense.

"Whatever," Anya said, falling into the sidestep portion of the tango they were doing.

"Still a bit miffed?" he asked, spinning her out again.

"Yeah," she said shortly.

He twirled her in one last time, keeping her wrapped in his arms. "You, my pet, are a hard one. But...I apologize profusely."

She disentangled herself from his embrace. "Then stop being late, Spike. That's all I really want."

He nodded. "Fair enough. Now, not to seem hurried or anything, love...were you planning on kissing me anytime soon?"

"You'll just have to wait," she said, the dancing having ignited her passion and making her remember exactly why she chose the dashing blonde over Xander.

"I'll wait until I can't wait any longer," Spike said, kissing her hand before letting it go.

She turned and walked away, only to stop. Damn him, she thought, realizing she was unable to stay angry at him. She turned and walked into his arms, kissing him soundly.

Damn him, she thought once more before forgetting every thought in her head as lust overtook her.