Fic info.
Millenium: Slow Down
run around in circles
live a life of solitude
till we find ourselves a partner
someone to relate to
then we'll slow down
before we fall down
She was alone on New Year's Eve. For the first time since coming to Sunnydale, she was, as Willow would say, lacking a guy. Buffy sighed heavily as she watched the group gathered in the Summers' living room. Cordelia was playing chess with Giles, Oz and Xander were in the corner, each wallowing in their own self pity, and Willow sat on the couch valiantly talking to Buffy's Mom. It was then, while surveying the group, she noticed a total lack of one person.

With a growl, she stomped into the kitchen to find Spike riffling through the cabinets. He pulled a bottle out of one of the bottom cabinets and sneered at the label.

"Schnapps? Who the hell drinks Schnapps anymore?" he muttered, tossing the bottle into the sink. Buffy cringed as the bottle shattered.

"Spike! Out of the liquor cabinet!" she ordered, slamming the cabinet door shut before he could pull out another bottle.

"'Ey, Slayer," he offered with a grin. "You wouldn't happen to know where your mum keeps the whiskey, would ya?"

"No, and another thing, what the hell do you think your doing in here!?"

"You were bringin' the room down, pet," he explained. "With your heavin' and sighin'. Made me sick." He shuddered, and she rolled her eyes in response. "And 'sides, it's New Years. I'm supposed to get drunk."

"I really hate you," she replied, throwing her hands up in disgust and leaving the kitchen.

"You've mentioned that, pet!" he called after her. He glared at the offending bottle of Peppermint Schnapps in the sink before following her out of the room. He found the Slayer much as he'd left her before, staring into space and sighing, only now she was on the couch instead of against the wall. He dropped onto the couch next to her. "I need a cigarette," he commented to no one in particular.

"No smoking in the house," Buffy replied automatically. He chuckled and pulled a cigarette out of the pockets of his duster. He put it between his lips and gently chewed on the tip, waiting for the Slayer to take the bait. It was a game they'd played before. He'd pretend to smoke, and she'd pretend to get mad. Only now when she turned fiery eyes on him, she wasn't pretending. With a hiss, she reached out and grabbed the cigarette out of his mouth; she crushed it in her palm and brushed it off her hands.

"Attitude problem?" he asked, innocently; she glared at him. "Alright, Slayer, tell me about it." She scoffed at him. "C'mon, love, tell Uncle Spikey," he ordered. She laughed at him suddenly.

"'Uncle Spikey'? How much of the Schnapps did you drink?" she chuckled.

"Just half a bottle," he replied, indicating the amount with his thumb and forefinger. At her amused expression, he replied, "Hey! It's New Years!"

"That it is," she whispered softly, turning to the TV as the ball in Times Square began to fall.

*10!*

"What's with the big, glittery ball, pet?"

*9!*

"Don't you ever watch TV?"

*8!*

"I used to have better things to do on New Years, love."

*7!*

"I so don't want to know."

*6!*

"I disgust you, don't I, Slayer?"

*5!*

"Pretty much all the time."

*4!*

"I'm hurt."

*3!*

"I'm glad."

*2!*

"Hey, pet, wanna go out in the lawn and shag like bunnies?"

*1!*

"Oh, please. I do have standards!"

* Happy New Year! *

Spike's reply was cut off as she pulled his face to hers and kissed him gently. Their mouths opened, and their tongues met briefly as the people in Times Square celebrated and the living room at the Summers house was strangely silent. Buffy pulled away and met his eyes.

"Happy Millennium, Spike," she whispered.

"Millennium's not for another year, love," he replied.

"Hey, let me live in the fantasy, okay?" she teased, leaning back into the couch no longer in the mood to brood.

"So, you still lonely, pet?" Spike asked after staring at the screen for several seconds. She looked over at him in surprise.

"How did you know?"

"I just did," he replied, tapping the side of his head.

"Thanks, Spike," she muttered with a laugh.

"My pleasure."