Blue Eyed Devil
 Parts 1-4


Written by: Pattyanne
 Author's Website





Summary: AU. (Here I go again) Spike is an up and coming rock star. His band is called "Blue Eyed Devil". Buffy is a pre-school teacher, who meets him one night in a club where his band is singing.
Disclaimer: The show Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all of it's characters belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, & Fox Prod.
AN: Since I can't write music, and music is going to be a major theme in this story, I'll be using other songs that I like. Unless it's noted that the song belongs to someone else, I need you to suspend a little belief and pretend it's a Blue Eyed Devil song. I'm sure none of you will have any problem imagining "him" singing a love song...to whoever.
Feedback: snapkik@yahoo.com





Part One...


"Are you busy tonight?"

Buffy glanced up at her best friend and employer. Willow was standing in the doorway to her classroom, clutching a piece of poster board that looked like she'd stolen if off the side of a building.

She finished dumping the last of the wooden blocks into their bins, then sat back on her heels and pushed her hair out of her eyes. "I'm just finishing up some of my early evaluation reports and maybe working on next weeks lesson plan a little more. Why?"

With an impish smile, Willow turned the poster board around and gave Buffy a look at it.

Buffy looked, then shrugged. "Blue Eyed Devil? Who's he?"

Willow sighed. "Honestly, Buff...do you ever turn on the radio or the television? I know you own one of each."

Climbing to her feet, Buffy pushed the block box off into a corner, then turned around, smoothing down her skirt. "Look...I'm not up for one of your "let's drag Buffy into the modern world, kicking and screaming" talks. I don't know who he is...so just tell me."

"It's not a "he", Willow explained, placing the poster down on Buffy's desk. "It's a band. A really...really...hot band. Their first single went platinum almost overnight, and they've just signed a zillion dollar contract for three albums..."

Buffy straightened the books on the reading shelf. "So...why do I need to know all this?"

"Because," Willow exclaimed. "They're gonna be playing here tonight! In a couple of weeks, they're kicking off this mega city tour, but they'll be here at Union Jacks tonight!"

"At who?"

"Union Jacks," Willow repeated. "That new club down by the pier. It just opened a couple of days ago."

Buffy scraped a crayon mark off one of her books with her thumbnail. "How come...a big band like that is playing in a little club here in Sunnydale?"

"I heard that the owner of the club is Spike Devlin's uncle and he..."

"Hold it," Buffy said, holding up one hand. "Who...is Spike Devlin?"

"Oh for..." Willow shook her head in disgust at Buffy's ignorance. "He's the front man...the lead singer...plays lead guitar...and he's related to the man who owns the club...so they're playing here as a favor to him. You know...to get the place off to a good start."

Buffy nodded. "And I take it that you want to go and see them? And drag me along for the ride."

Willow grinned. "You got it, best friend."

"But I've really got a lot to do tonight, Wils and I..."

"Best friend here!" Willow cut her off. "Who gave you your first teaching job at her school...over more experienced applicants."

Sighing, Buffy rolled her eyes. Willow was never...ever...gonna let her forget that little piece of information. She had indeed passed over three other teachers with years of experience behind them, and hired her instead...fresh out of school herself.

Buffy knew she was trapped. Willow owned the school, and while she wouldn't use that as a weapon, Buffy didn't want to make waves with her boss.

"All right...I'll go with you," she agreed. "I'll hear Blue Eyed what's-his- name sing and play, and...whatever. But you..."

"Great!" Willow said happily, cutting Buffy off mid-sentence. "I'll meet you there at 7:00. We can have dinner first. My treat."

Gathering up her purse and her jacket, Buffy grabbed her leather satchel as well. She stuffed her unfinished evaluation reports and her lesson plans in it. Maybe she could get a little work done before the band started breaking her eardrums.



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They were seated at a side table with a fairly good view of the stage. After ordering hamburgers and milk shakes, they sat and talked about their plans for the school year. Willow filled Buffy in on some of the background of her fellow teachers, and Buffy countered with stories about some of her own class mates who were now working in the public school system.

The bands instruments were all set up on stage, ready to go. Buffy counted five guitars, an elaborate keyboard set up, and a drum kit that looked like it could shake the walls to kindling.

Their meals arrived, and they had just begun to eat when Willow's cell phone chirped loudly. She grabbed the tiny phone and went out into the main entry way to talk, and when she came back to the table, Buffy could tell it wasn't good news.

"I've gotta go," she said, gathering her things together. "That was the cleaning service. A pipe burst in Marian's classroom and they don't know how to turn off the water."

Buffy wiped her mouth with a napkin and started to stand, but Willow waved her back down. "You stay...it's nowhere near your room, and there's no reason for you to miss the band. Um...I'll see you tomorrow...and if you can get me an autograph...I'd.. I gotta go..."

Sitting back down, Buffy considered leaving as well. But, she was hungry and didn't have much at home, since she hadn't bothered to go to the market. Besides, Willow had looked so upset and all....maybe she COULD get her the autograph she'd asked for.



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Once her stomach was full, she pushed the plate away and grabbed her satchel. Spreading out the evaluation papers, she began to write on them, quickly becoming so engrossed that she wasn't really too aware of what was going on around her.

She heard the band being introduced and the burst of loud applause that followed. Music began to play, but she didn't bother looking up....until a voice spoke almost directly into her ear.

"S'cuse me, luv....are we bothering you with all that loud music we're playing?"

Buffy finally raised her head and found herself looking at what had to be the 'Blue Eyed Devil' himself.

Oh, boy....were his eyes blue! Like aquamarine gems...or maybe blue topaz...and they were framed by long, dark lashes that a girl would envy.

He was leaning on her table, smiling down at her like a wolf who'd just stumbled over a particularly vulnerable looking lamb.

A little over average height, he was dressed in a pair of skin tight jeans, a black t-shirt, and a red button down shirt on top of that, loosely tucked into his pants. He wore a pair of scuffed black boots, worn down at the heel, and around his neck hung a silver Celtic cross.

Buffy's cheeks turned bright pink. "I...I beg your pardon?" she asked nervously.

"I asked you if we were disturbing you with our music, darling," he repeated.

The people sitting at the tables around them giggled and whispered amongst themselves as they watched this little drama. The band was still playing their instruments, but softly, wanting to hear what was being said.

"Why are you asking me that?" she hissed, wiping suddenly sweaty palms on her skirt. "Am I offending you in some way?"

"As a matter of fact, luv," he said, nodding. "I'm sort of used to people actually paying attention to the show. Makes me feel all warm and cozy inside."

"I can hear you," she answered smartly. "Am I required to sit and stare at you as well?"

The people around them all went "oohhh" at the same time, as though they were expecting a knock-down drag out fight to start.

But the man bothering her looked delighted. "Sassy little thing, aren't you? What are you doing?" he asked, gesturing at her papers.

"I don't see how that concerns you," she answered huffily. He laughed and made a grab for her lesson planner. Buffy grabbed the other end of it, and there was a brief tug-of-war between them. "Let go!" she demanded, slapping at his hand.

"Ouch!" he said, pretending to be grievously wounded. "Come on...let me see." He yanked the book out of her hand and flipped it open. "Lesson plans....are you a teacher?" he asked, handing the book back to her. He leaned his elbows on the table and cupped his cheek in his palm. "That's fantastic," he murmured in a silky tone of voice. "You wouldn't believe the fantasies I've had about teachers, luv. Not as pretty as you...but close."

Buffy's cheeks flamed scarlet again as her eyes darted nervously around. "Will you just get back up on the stage and...and do what you're supposed to be doing?" she whispered hotly.

"Depends," he said, eyeing her up and down. "Will you promise to listen? I'll sing a song for you, if you do."

At this point, she would have agreed to do almost anything in order to get him to go away. Her embarrassment was reaching horrifying proportions, and she was afraid that she might start to cry. This reaction was a holdover from her adolescence that she just couldn't seem to shake, even at the age of twenty-five.

"Fine," she said irritably. "I'll listen."

He leaned closer, until she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. "Will you watch, too?"

The other people in the club were getting restless. Apparently they were tired of watching this particular show and wanted to get back to the one they had come to see. She sensed a few dirty looks being aimed in her direction, but her tormentor obviously cared nothing about keeping the rest of his audience happy.

"Yes," she snapped. "I'll watch, too. Now...shoo!" She waved him away, pointing at the stage.

"Thanks, luv," he said, making a kiss at her. He turned and went back to the stage, jumping up on it in one leap.

The bass player, a nice looking boy with reddish blond hair, gave him a look. "Thought you were never coming back. Not that I blame you...she's something else."

Spike Devlin clipped his guitar strap back around his neck and stared straight at Buffy. "Down, boy," he said, audible to everyone in the club. "I saw her first."





=Part Two=


Buffy's cheeks were still hot with embarrassment as the band began to play. She could feel people's eyes on her, and she'd never wanted to cut and run so badly in her life. But she could also feel HIS eyes on her, challenging her to keep her promise, and so she stayed glued to her chair. She was damned if she was gonna let this, no doubt second rate singer, chase her off like a frightened rabbit.

Summoning up all her nerve, she raised her eyes and looked directly at him, ignoring the stares directed her way by the rest of the audience....and found him looking right back at her.

"When she walks in the room every eye in the place turns to follow her every move..."

Okay....so he wasn't a second rate singer.

"She's arrived on the scene, in her diamonds and jeans.
World class....she's got nothing to prove.."

Actually...he was fairly talented.

"It takes a long time to know her
She gives it up a little at a time.."

No....he was amazingly talented.

"She's getting what she wants
She's a popular girl
Setting those hearts on fire
Everybody wants to be part of her world
She's a...popular girl
Such a....popular girl."

Oh, god....he was probably one of the best singers she'd ever heard. No wonder his first single had jumped to the top of the charts.

As she watched him, she had to admit that it wasn't just the voice that he had going for him. His fingers were deft and agile as they coaxed the melody from his guitar. His hips swayed very slightly, in a suggestive manner that was all too obvious. He didn't seem to be able to stand still for very long. He prowled around the stage, making brief eye contact with a few of the female members of his audience.

But every time he looked away from them, he returned his gaze to Buffy. Unexpectedly, as if he was trying to catch her in the act of not paying him the attention she'd promised.

As if she could look away!


"She walks down the street
Knocks 'em dead on their feet
With a casual nonchalance."

She'd been too unnerved before to pay much attention to his looks, but now that there was a little distance between them, she could see exactly why all the girls in the club were eyeing him like a potential meal.

He had white blond hair...it had to be bleached, no way it could be natural with the darkness of his lashes and eye- brows...and although he'd slicked it back, it was resisting his efforts to tame it and was showing it's natural curls.

His face was almost pretty. He had beautifully sculpted cheek- bones, with a high arch to them, and a strong jaw. His complexion was on the fair side, which only added to the intense piercing quality of those blue, blue eyes of his. His left eyebrow sported a scar that looked like it had always been there...like it was supposed to be there.

"When she's breaking your heart
She's the state-of-the-art
With license to take what she wants."

But his mouth was a real work of art. Soft and sensual looking, it begged to be kissed. And she could almost taste.....

"It takes a hard man to hold her.."

She gasped when she heard him sing that line, staring right at her and pushing his hips forward in a thrusting motion that definitely left no need for guess work as to what he was implying.

"She likes to get a little out of line."

Buffy clasped her hands together on the table top, squeezing her fingers until her circulation was in danger of shutting down.

"She's getting what she wants, she's a popular girl
Setting those hearts on fire
Everybody wants to be part of her world
She's a..popular girl
Such a...popular girl."

She swallowed hard. How much longer was this song going to last? More importantly, how much longer was she going to be able to sit still for this?

"She stands by the window, the world is her stage
Each smile is her mirror, in the passing parade
Passing parade."

Grabbing the glass of water the waiter had set on the table earlier, she drank it down in four gulps.

"And in the end, all she'll be is your friend
Though passion's your lone desire.."

She sat back and folded her arms across her chest, feeling oddly exposed as he stared at her. His next move, though, totally unraveled her.

Her mouth dropped open as he dropped to his knees at the very edge of the stage closest to her, leaning his body back slightly, his guitar held on his upper thighs.

"She's the one you can't touch
You want her so much
You're burning...your heart's on fire.."

On fire. Apt lyrics indeed. She was actually beginning to feel more than a little overheated herself.

"It takes a hard man to hold her
The challenge is forever on my mind.."

Buffy wiped her damp hands on her napkin, then shredded it into tiny bits of confetti in her lap. Would this song NEVER end?

"She's getting what she wants
She's a popular girl
Setting my heart on fire
Everybody wants to be part of her world
She's a...popular girl
Such a....popular girl.."

Her eyes became wide and round. He had changed the lyric! Had stared right at her and changed the lyric of the song!

People were looking at her again as the band played the closing notes of the song. Looking at her...and whispering.

Okay....enough was enough.

She began packing her belongings back up, shoving the evaluation forms into her satchel without considering that they were made of paper and would be hopelessly wadded up and crinkled.

Grabbing her purse, she jumped to her feet and headed towards the exit. She walked swiftly, eyes glued to the door, not even registering it when someone in the audience muttered "Oh, not again!"

Buffy didn't stop until she was forced to by someone behind her placing a hand on her shoulder. Ducking away, she whipped around and saw that Devlin had once again left the stage and was chasing after her.

Half the audience looked intrigued and amused, the other half...not so much. Afraid that they were going to start some kind of riot, she placed her hand on his chest and pushed him away from her. "Quit following me!" she snapped.

Completely unrepentant, he smiled. "Give me your name and your phone number, and I will."

Trapped, Buffy's eyes darted about and fastened on the ladies room door. "I'm just going to the bathroom," she said, projecting a look of sincerity blended with urgent need. "Get back up there and...do what you were doing and...and I'll write it down for you when I get back."

He hesitated, then backed away a little. "All right, then." Safely locked in the bathroom, she waited until she heard the band begin to play and then bolted out the door, running to her car like a bat out of hell.

As though the devil himself was on her heels....





=Part Three=


After a long night filled with disturbing dreams punctuated by a few moments of restless sleep, Buffy had to drag herself out of bed. It wasn't until she'd had two cups of black, highly sweetened coffee and a shower that she began to think she might be able to screw her head on straight and go to work.

Her morning was hectic and loud. The children from Marian Banner's class room had been parceled out amongst the other teachers until the plumbing could be fixed and the carpet relaid. This meant that Buffy had five more 4 year olds to deal with.

She made it through the morning on a caffeine and sugar energy burst, and she only stopped to think about her experience the night before a half a dozen times or so. Fortunately, her attention had to focus on her children, which saved her from a lot of useless imaginings.

Although he had haunted her last night in her dreams, Buffy had no illusions about the reality of the situation. She was quite certain that she'd been nothing more to him than an interesting diversion, probably prompted by her initial ignoring of his stage presence, and a challenge to his ego. To a person like him, it wasn't enough to have most of the girls in the audience bowled over...he needed to have them all in the same condition.

During the morning rest period, she snuck into the kitchen and drank a bottle of Coke, hoping to boost herself up with more caffeine and sugar.

It seemed to work, because she got through the rest of the class time until lunch without collapsing into a tired heap.

 

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"So...how was the band last night?"

Buffy shrugged as she filled her basket with supplies from the storage closet. Construction paper, glue sticks, buttons, pipe cleaners and Popsicle sticks weighed her arm down...ingredients for an art project she was planning for the afternoon session.

"They were all right," she murmured absently, silently berating herself for telling such an outrageous lie.

"All right?" Willow asked, disbelief making her voice squeak. "That's the best you can say...they were all right?"

Buffy cleared her throat. "They were...good. Competent musicians...pleasant voices."

"Well, which songs did they sing?" Willow pressed.

Glad that she was facing in the other direction, Buffy allowed herself a brief memory of a silky, sensual voice and of penetrating blue eyes fixed on her like a laser beam as he sang words that made the heat rise in her body..."She's setting my heart on fire...."

"I don't really remember," she said, swallowing hard.

Willow was silent for a long moment, and Buffy could almost feel her friends eyes burning into her, trying to gauge the level of truth in her voice.

"Well, what about the guys themselves?" she asked. "Were they hot?"

"No!" Buffy said, a shade too loudly. "They were just...just ordinary looking guys. Nothing special." She closed the door to the storage closet, hoping to avoid whatever lighting bolt God was about to pop her with for telling so many lies.

"Oh, come on." The disbelief in Willow's voice ratcheted up about three degrees. "I've seen them on TV," she added, "They are majorly sexy...especially Spike Dev...."

Buffy cut her off before she could finish the name. "I suppose they were, if you like that type!" she snapped. "But they just don't appeal to me."

Another lie. She was actually afraid to step outside at this point. If not a lightning bolt, then surely an anvil would come crashing down from the sky and squash her flat.

"Okay, okay," Willow said placatingly, holding up her hands as though she were being robbed at gunpoint. "I get the message. Miss Summers doesn't like rock and roll singers." She smiled, and Buffy knew what was coming next. "She prefers tall, blond loan officers."

As hard as she tried, Buffy couldn't even muster up a small smile acknowledging Willow's teasing comment. Her best friend and employer was referring to Riley Finn, the officer at the bank that had approved Willow's small business start up loan.

Riley had brought some paperwork to the school a few months ago, and Willow had introduced him to Buffy, hoping to prod her into wanting more satisfaction out of life than she got from teaching preschool.

He was very nice, and there was no doubt he was good looking. Tall and built more like a athlete than a bank officer, Riley Finn had sandy blond hair, friendly gray eyes, and an open, guileless face. Riley was what he was. There was no hidden mystery to him, no secrets to explore. What you saw...was what you got. No more, no less.

She had accepted his invitation to lunch that day, and had been out with him a few times since then. But, much to Willow's dismay, she couldn't seem to work up more than a casual liking for him. Even when he kissed her, although she tried to leave herself open for the bells and skyrockets that romance novels rhapsodized about, she never really lost herself in his kiss. Never wanted to drown in his eyes. Never wanted to lie in his arms and listen to him sing to her...sing softly...only to her....

Oh, no. She wasn't going there again. THAT was a dream. A silly, unattainable dream that had crept into her innocent sleep, uninvited. Buffy tried to change the subject. "What did the plumber say?"

"Oh, it was just a faulty pipe. He replaced it and checked out everything else, said it all looks good." Willow wiped imaginary sweat from her brow. "The carpet in Marian's room will be back down by the end of the day, so...all's well."

"Good," Buffy murmured, pushing open the door to her class room. Willow said nothing for a moment, and Buffy was afraid that her friend was once again gathering her forces to continue her "Buffy could love Riley if she just gave herself half a chance" lecture. But all Willow did was ask if she could supervise the noon play period outside.


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There were twelve children in her class, and she adored every single one of them.

From the time she'd been a child herself, Buffy had wanted to be a teacher. She had spent most of her playtime conducting pretend classes with her dolls and stuffed animals lined up in a neat row as she explained the mysteries of 2+2=4.

As she grew to adulthood, she discovered that she had a special affinity for very young children. They were so full of wonder and joy, so eager to learn and so willing to love and be loved. Her little ones were old enough to truly learn what she was teaching them, but not too old to climb up on her lap for a hug, or to have an 'ouchie' kissed after it was treated with antiseptic and a band aid.

They loved nothing more than to come and take Miss Buffy's hand and lead her out onto the playground to take part in whatever imaginary flights of fancy they were participating in.

And Miss Buffy loved nothing more than to be taken along for the ride. She climbed the monkey bars, swung along on the swing sets, teetered as they tottered, and crawled on her hands and knees into the playhouses. She dressed and undressed dolls, built Lego skyscrapers, molded clay into recognizable shapes, and blatantly crayoned outside the lines of coloring books.

When she took her class on a mini field trip to the little farm Willow had set up in the field behind the school, they followed her in a row, like ducklings. They tossed grain to the chickens, cuddled the bunnies, and laughed when she purposely allowed the tiny pygmy goat to lower his miniature horns and bump into her backside.

And they asked questions. Endless questions about everything under the sun. Why was this like that, and why was that like this? Where did the sun go at night? Why did the moon change colors as it rose? Do flowers feel it when they're picked? How did the cinnamon and sugar stick to the graham crackers, and why was there no butter in the peanut butter? Do bunnies like jelly beans, and why did some have floppy ears while others had upstanding ones?

They asked so many questions that she thought nothing of it at first when she was crawling out of the iron tunnel and heard Samantha ask, "Miss Buffy? Who's that man by the front gate?" Buffy looked up, saw who it was, and bumped her head on the edge of the tunnel hard enough to make the iron ring like a dull chime.

Oh, no......


=Part Four=

 

He had been watching her for several minutes before she was alerted to his presence, watching as she played with the children, looking much like a child herself.

But there had been nothing 'childlike' about her last night. Spike had noticed her when he'd walked out on the stage, scribbling on a stack of papers, her entire concentration devoted to whatever she was doing.

When the applause from their intro had ebbed, he'd waited for her to put her pen down, but she'd just carried on with her paperwork as though she was in a library instead of a venue where loud rock music was making the walls shake.

A minute into the first number, he had looked over at her and was slightly irked to see that she wasn't paying a damn bit of attention to the band. They could have been playing on the dark side of the moon, for all she was aware.

Never one to turn down such an obvious challenge, he had signaled for the music to continue being played at a softer volume, unclipped his guitar strap, and jumped down from the stage.

Fully intending to deliver a little nasty sarcasm, the notion had been wiped clean from his mind when she'd raised her head and looked at him like the proverbial deer in front of a quickly approaching pair of headlights.

Christ..what a knock out she was. Delicately made, with a lovely face and a wealth of shining, honey brown hair, she had the biggest eyes. Large and long lashed, they were jade green with tiny gold flecks in them.

Although he'd been unable to see much of her figure, hidden beneath the table as it was, the parts that he COULD see were very pleasing to the eye. Very pleasing, indeed.

Instantly jettisoning his plan to be rude to her, he'd begun flirting shamelessly, not deterred in the slightest by her whispered insistence's that he return to the stage. After securing her promise that she would both listen and watch the performance, he had finally done just that. Watching her squirm as he sang for her, he had been completely charmed by her. Charmed enough, in fact, that he'd had no qualms about stopping her from leaving until he knew who she was and where he could call her. But, the little sneak had hidden in the ladies room and somehow managed to escape without him seeing it.

Which had pissed him off...momentarily.


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Spike flinched in sympathy when he saw her head come in contact with the metal pipe she was crawling out of. He could hear the sound it make clear on the other side of the play yard.

There was a little blond haired cutie standing next to the tunnel, and she must have been the one to announce his presence.

But teacher lady was now climbing to her feet, dusting her skirt off and heading towards him with fire in her eye. He couldn't remember the last time he'd pissed off a teacher, although he'd done more than his share of it in school. When she was only a few feet away, he got his first good look at her in the light of day...and wasn't a bit disappointed. She was just as pretty now as she'd been last night...and a good deal angrier.

"You all right?" he asked, hoping to distract her with his sincere concern. The little girl was trailing right along with her teacher, hiding behind her skirt.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, her cheeks beautifully pink with irritation. "How dare you come here?"

"Nobody dared me," he shrugged. "I just did."

That took the wind out of her sails...for about three seconds. "Why? Why are you here?"

Spike grinned. She must know why he was here. After last night...how could she not? "You ran out on me last night," he reminded her. "Promised me a name and phone number, and then you snuck off without giving it to me."

Her breasts were heaving with her agitation, and it was all he could do to keep his eyes on her face. He had the feeling that if she even suspected he was staring at her chest, this would all be over before it began.

No way he was gonna let that happen.

"You have to leave," she informed him. "This is...this is private property, and you have no reason to be here."

"How do you know that?" he countered. "Couldn't I be checking out the local schools for the benefit of my kids?"

For some bizarre reason, Buffy's heart jerked unpleasantly in her bosom. "You...you have children?"

"Not yet," he replied. "But....you never know what the very near future might hold."

Meeting his eyes as boldly as she could manage, Buffy saw that he was definitely checking her up and down when he said those words. If possible, her cheeks became even redder.

"Well...if you want to know more about the school...you have to make an appointment with Willow. She's the owner and she'll tell you everything you need to know. Goodbye."

"But I'd rather talk to you," he said quickly. "Come on," he added, lowering his voice, "talk to me."

Buffy glanced around, then stepped a bit closer to the fence he was on the other side of. "I'm at work," she announced, as though he couldn't see that plainly. "I don't have time to play games like this with you."

Spike chuckled. "Oh, darling...I'm not playing a game. Not the kind you mean. In fact," he stepped a little closer, "I've rarely been more serious in my life. Why did you run out on me last night?"

Running her hands over her hair in frustration, Buffy countered with a question of her own. "How did you know where I worked?"

He stared down at his feet, kicking a rock around with the dusty toe of one boot, then looked back up at her from beneath his lashes. This was a practiced maneuver that usually charmed the hell out of whatever girl he was after. Most girls had such a soft spot for shy, boyish behavior.

"Remember when I opened your book? I saw the name of the school at the bottom of the first page," he explained, grinning devilishly. The little girl tugged on the back of teacher lady's skirt.

"Just a minute, Samantha," she said, then looked back at Spike. "I have to take my class in...and you have to leave," she said firmly.

Spike sighed. This wasn't going to be easy...but something like this...like her...was worth the extra effort. "I'll go," he conceded. "But can I call you? Will you at least tell me your name?"

"No," Buffy replied.

Wondering if he was going to have to actually take a tour of the school to get the information he wanted, Spike grinned when the little blond cutie came to his rescue.

"Miss Buffy?" she asked, tugging again on her skirt. "Is that your boyfriend?"

Insanely pleased, Spike knelt until he was at eye level with the child. "You are a very clever little girl to guess that," he said boldly. "And you're very pretty, as well." He rose slowly to her feet. "Isn't she...Miss Buffy?"

Casting him an evil scowl, Buffy turned to the little girl. "Samantha, it's almost time for recess to be over. Will you start collecting the balls for me and put them in the ball cage?"

Nodding eagerly, Samantha skipped off to do as she'd been asked. Buffy turned back to Spike. "Why won't you go?" she sighed helplessly.

The question made him frown. He wasn't used to being treated this way by a girl. "I will," he said. "When I get what I came for." Pausing a moment, Buffy clasped her hands together. "Look...Mr. Devlin, I..."

"Spike" he interjected.

"Mr. Devlin....I don't understand why you're doing this. You must have plenty of women just dying to throw themselves at your feet. Why you've decided to single me out for your...attention...I don't know, but..." "You really don't, do you?" he cut in, surprised. "Well, I'll tell you why. Because I felt something last night. The minute I saw you, heard your voice...I felt something. And you damn well felt it, too. Don't tell me you didn't. I was singing for YOU, Miss Buffy. And if you'd had the courage to stick around, I would have kept on singing for you." She couldn't think of a thing to say in reply to such a declaration. "When you get to know me better," he went on, "you'll see that I don't give up easily...not when I want something badly enough. So get ready for me, darling," He leaned over the fence until his face was close to hers and whispered, "because I intend to rock your safe...little...world." Before she could move, he dropped a light kiss on her lips.

"Bye for now, luv." Sliding a pair of sunglasses on, he turned and crossed the street, then climbed into a black Mustang and drove away.

 


Continued...

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