The year's grandest gala for those who have slipped in the spaces that stand between stories...

[foryourown]

Some time in the evening, a musical chiming starts in the atrium. A soft grumble, and then a roar, and one entire wall descends slowly on gears into the floor. Beyond it lies a resplendent marble plaza, walled on its remaining three sides in glass

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[breakmychest]

Spike doesn't necessarily mind parties. He likes people, and he likes socializing, or at least, he likes hanging around the edges and making snide remarks. What he doesn't like is formal wear. His normal outfit is a t-shirt, jeans, and his jacket. Sometimes there's another shirt thrown in to mix things up. The only thing his new outfit got right is the colours. The coat and pants are black, as is the bowtie, but his shirt is a bright red. His shoes are fancy and new and decidedly not motorcycle boots.

He gets rid of the bowtie immediately, stuffing it into a pocket and grumbling Then he undoes the first few buttons of his shirt. He still doesn't really feel like himself, but it's closer. He should know better than to drink something in a place like this, but he's not thinking completely straight. And he really, really wants it to be alcoholic.

He downs it in a gulp, then drops the chalice, letting out a gasp. There's some sort of catch in his chest, and he's breathing. That's not so unusual, Spike never broke the habit, but it's

[notalighieri]

Dwelling on the possible downsides of this whole weird-ass transformation quickly turned out to be a downer. Luckily there was this party going on that proved an excellent distraction. Fancy dress parties was about as far as possible from Dante's normal sphere of socialization but hey.. when in Rome or whatever, right?

Passing by behind Spike, he stops... and steps up beside the other man to offer him a smirk.

"Nice threads, dude."

That is to say, it looks like they're wearing pretty much the same thing: black coat and pants, a bright red shirt -with the black bowtie removed and topmost buttons hurriedly unbuttoned. Whether or not Dante's comment is genuine appreciation, or an ironic remark regarding a similar dislike of his own forced get-up, is open to interpretation. Most likely it's a mix of both.

[breakmychest]

"Huh?" Spike was busy feeling his pulse in his neck and wrist and focusing on breathing and all those silly human things he hadn't done for many, many years. He's enjoying this.

But the other man's words do register quickly enough and he gives him a sardonic smirk. "Oh, yeah. You too, mate."

[isaywe_party]

Buffy had taken a sip of her own, and after a brief round of nausea, she really didn't feel any different. She was also dressed up, and while she couldn't find anyone before the toast, she definitely went looking for them after. It didn't take long before she wandered over to where Spike was standing, placing one hand on his shoulder gently.

"Hey. You the only one of our group who showed?"

[breakmychest]

Spike turned around, fingers on his neck. He couldn't help continuously feeling his pulse. He hadn't had one in so long. "Buffy," he said, sounding surprised. Normally he could smell her wherever she was, and feel her, in a way. That distinctive buzz that only came from being around the Slayer. But now she didn't smell like much of anything.

"I think Oz is around somewhere, don't know about anyone else." He smiled. "You look beautiful."

[isaywe_party]

There was the appropriate, girlish smile to accompany that compliment before she nodded. "Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself."

[breakmychest]

Still a bit distracted by the fact that he was all of a sudden alive, then stuck out his wrist.

"Buffy, feel this."

[isaywe_party]

She raised an eyebrow at that, before doing as he asked and reaching forward. "Oookay. Is there something in particular I'm supposed to be ... " Then she paused, shifting her fingers to press against a certain part of his wrist.

Oh.

Oh.

"Spike, you have a pulse."

[breakmychest]

He nods, giving her a look that borders somewhere between serious, excited, and nervous. "I'm breathing, too. Happened right after I drank that not nearly alcoholic enough drink. I'm pretty sure I'm... human. And alive."

[isaywe_party]

"Weird drink that makes you feel lightly nauseous before going back to normal?" This was a valid concern. Because if it turned Spike human, then ... highly possible that it did the same thing to Buffy.

[breakmychest]

"Barely even noticed the nausea, all things considered, but... yeah, that'd be it." He frowned. "Probably shouldn't have drunk it. Why?"

[isaywe_party]

"Cuz ... I just did," she said slowly, before looking over at the glass in her hand, and placing it down on one of the nearby tables. "I hope this is one of those 'everyone goes human' kinds of situations because ... "

A Slayer at half strength? It's like painting a bulls eye on your back.

[breakmychest]

"Are you feeling weak or anything?" Spike picked her glass back up, looking into it. He sniffed and frowned. "I can't smell a bloody thing."

[isaywe_party]

"No, I'm feeling ... normal. But the last time I was powerless, I didn't notice anything was wrong either."

She moved over to one of the chairs lifting it and trying to judge the weight. "That's definitely heavier than it should be."

[breakmychest]

"Guess that makes us both normal people." He smirked a little and put the glass down. "Well, it can't be too bad, right? Lots of people do it all the time." He touched his wrist again, feeling his pulse. He felt bad for Buffy, losing her powers and everything, but he couldn't help but enjoy being alive. "I wonder if there are any crosses around I can touch. Bet they wouldn't burn me."

[isaywe_party]

She smirked. "Yeah, but it might not be such a good thing around here. Given the fact that we're trapped by fae and all?"