GOING ONCE (15/?)
 

"I almost forgot," Willow said as they entered the living room, "Buffy gave
me this for you."
 

"What is it?" he asked suspiciously, not trusting the slayer at all.
 

"The application for the bachelor auction," Willow explained, handing it to
him. "You have to fill that out and turn it so you'll be registered to
participate. Anya said the picture thing is optional so that shouldn't be a
problem. I think there's also a rule book or something."
 

Spike took it, sitting down and making himself comfortable before he opened
the first page. Reading through, he cursed, "Bloody hell, I can't answer all
these daft questions."
 

"Why not?" Willow asked as she turned on the cartoon channel, smiling when
she saw that Scooby Doo was playing. She sat down, taking a sip of her soda
before sitting back.
 

"It wants my birthday, pet. I likely doubt that they would believe the truth.
Besides, I don't even remember my birthday," he grumbled.
 

"Pick a date," she suggested, looking at him. They had spent over an hour at
the dinner table, simply talking about their days as she had eaten.
Afterwards, they had both done the dishes, him washing and her drying, before
coming into the living room to spend the remainder of the evening.
 

"I don't know," he said, scowling. "This is stupid."
 

"I said that all along," she reminded with a smirk. "It's not that tough.
Pick a day."
 

He frowned, finally saying, "March 23rd."
 

"See? That part was easy," she said, wondering why he had chosen such a
specific seeming day. She probably would have come up something easy, like a
holiday or something. Trust Spike not to be easy. "Now, how old were you
when you were turned?"
 

"I dunno," he shrugged. "Age wasn't very important to me back then. Still
isn't."
 

Willow looked at him critically for a few moments, "You had to be at least
twenty three. I'd say twenty five just to be safe."
 

"So I was born on March 23, 1976?" he asked, raising a brow.
 

"Sounds good to me," she said. Suddenly, she smiled, "you should have said
February 14th. You could have been a Valentine's baby."
 

"March 23rd," he said, ignoring her. "That was an important date for me,
that's when it should be."
 

"Fine. After all, it is your birthday," she said. "So, what else is tough?"
 

"Name, address, occupation," he began to read off the form, knowing there was
no way he could truthfully answer any of those questions.
 

"Your name is William...what?" she asked, never having heard his last name.
 

"I have accounts under Fairchilde, Forsyte, Morgan, Wilding, and Davis," he
using a finger for each name. "Those are the ones that I can remember off
hand."
 

"Fairchilde?" she repeated with a slight smile.
 

His eyes narrowed at her amusement, "Drusilla opened that one shortly after
my turning. Used to call me her Fair Haired Childe. Shortened it for the
account."
 

"You had blonde hair then?" Willow asked, curious.
 

"No," he said. "Light brown and rather curly. It was horrid. I was a total
poof, a pretty boy type."
 

"Not arrogant at all," she said wide eyed and innocently.
 

"I knew what I was," he said simply. "Not arrogant to speak the truth."
 

"I like it," she decided. "William Fairchilde, age 24."
 

He had to smile at the enthusiasm she held. "Address?"
 

"Here," she said without thinking. "You're practically living here anyway.
Why not make it official? Next?"
 

"Why, Willow Roseberg, are you asking me to move in?" he asked, giving her a
look of shock. "I'm not that type of man, despite what you may have heard."
 

"You wouldn't even believe what I'd heard," she said with a snort.
 

"Offer me a roof over my head and cable all the while intending to compromise
my virtue and seduce me," he shook his head, his eyes laughing at her.
 

"I would never seduce you, Spike, so don't worry about losing that virtue,"
she said, snickering over the last word.
 

"What? Am I not good enough to seduce? Does your taste run to chubby
brunettes like the moron?" he asked, having heard of her early crush on
Xander.
 

"Xander isn't chubby nor would I seduce him," Willow said, rolling her eyes.
"What's the next question?"
 

"Uh uh, little girl," he shook his finger at her. "I want to know why you
wouldn't seduce me. Do I not make your juices run? Light your fire? Make you
want to get naked and get wild?"
 

"Occupation. That was it, wasn't it?" she asked, proud of herself for not
reacting to his teasing.
 

"See how it is. A girl asks a bloke to move in and then won't even seduce
him," Spike sighed dramatically.
 

"Why, Spike, did you want me to seduce you?" she asked, deciding to turn the
tables on him. "Do your juices flow? Do I light your fire? Do you want to get
naked and wild?"
 

He scowled, writing in her address in the blank, "I get the spare room. No
more of this lumpy couch."
 

She laughed, strangely curious as to his reluctance to answer her question.
She had anticipated some biting remark or insult but all she got was him
moving on. Suddenly, she frowned, "You think my sofa is lumpy?"
 

"Damn straight," he nodded. "Worse than the alter back at the crypt."
 

"Then pray tell, why did you spend the last week and a half sleeping on it?"
she asked pointedly.
 

He shrugged, "It was warmer than the crypt plus you had cable. Doesn't
matter. I've got the spare room now."
 

"You planned that didn't you?" she accused, laughing sharply. "The cleaning
and the cooking. You wanted me to ask you to move in. Why?"
 

He looked at her, his eyes cold and closed off, "Moving on, occupation."
 

"I would have let you stay without all that," she said softly, hating the
idea that he had only been hanging around her for a warm place to stay that
had cable. Well, that and for her co-operation at the auction. "You didn't
have to act for me."
 

"Wasn't acting," he said simply, tapping his pencil. "Somehow I don't think
vampire would go over well with the bidders."
 

"Put investments. That leaves it open for speculation," she said quietly, her
good mood ruined by the thought that he had only been nice in hopes of
getting somewhere to stay. And here she had thought there was a slight chance
that he might be having some sort of feelings for her. She should have known
better. Someone like Spike did not fall for someone like her. It just didn't
happen that way in real life. Those endings were for the movies.
 

Spike frowned at her as he wrote in her answer. He asked a few more
questions, receiving mono-syllable answers instead of her enthuiastic reply.
He finally shut the application and grabbed her hand. "Come on."
 

"What?" she asked, having to get to her feet before he pulled her arm from
its socket.
 

"We're going out," he said, giving her a look that dared her to protest. He
was annoyed with himself and with her. They had been having such a great
time, simply enjoying each other, then she'd let her damn insecurities ruin
it all, again. She didn't seem to believe that he could actually enjoy being
with her without wanting or needing something. Hell, he needed and boy did he
want. Wouldn't her prissy little head spin if she had any idea of his
thoughts concerning her. Shaking off his demon's coaxing voice that demanded
he show her exactly what he wanted from her, he grabbed her coat. "Put this
on," he said, holding it for her to put on.
 

"Where are we going?" she asked, not sure she wanted to go out with him. Who
was she kidding? She'd follow him to hell and back if he asked her too.
 

"For a walk," he decided. "It's a cool night and the stars are out. We should
be out there enjoying it instead of in here watching re-runs of Scooby Doo
for the fiftieth time."
 

"I don't know," she started.
 

"Willow," he interrupted, catching her off guard by using her real name,
"would you please go on a walk with me?"
 

She smiled brightly, nodding shyly as she said, "I'd love to."

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