Spike crouched in the bushes lining the Rosenberg's backyard, his eyes latched onto the balcony door two stories up. He barely moved, his intense blue eyes never shifting. His prey would give in eventually, and after an hour squatting on the damp grass, Spike wasn't about to miss that nervous sweep of green eyes when the girl finally stepped outside to look at the gift he had left her.
 

Romancing a human was world away from romancing another vampire. With his own kind, it was all about a bite her, a slap there, the presentation of a still beating heart... Something told Spike that Willow would not appreciate any of the above. And for the strangest reason, the thought of making Willow upset made Spike's long dead heart squeeze painfully.
 

When had that happened, he wondered. He hadn't always felt this way, had he? The girl had always looked delightfully fuckable, with a beautiful body and an aura of innocence and light that no self-respecting vampire could resist fantasizing about bleeding away. But this... when had this strange, painful feeling settled into his body? No... no, he had always loved the shy little chit who was currently doing her best to hold out against his assault on her romantic sensibilities. Hadn't he?
 

No matter.
 

The young woman was currently playing hard to get. But Spike was certain that he would eventually win her over. After all, one didn't live a century or so without learning at least a few routes into a woman's heart... or had that been bed? Spike shook that thought off.
 

One tried and true method involved gifts. Lots of them. In lieu of the artistically arranged corpse that Spike would have used to woo another vampire, he had settled on flowers. After a quick snack, he had used most of the night hours to uproot the flowers planted in the town's public gardens. They were now laid in a thick carpet across Willow's balcony.
 

No way would the object of his affections be able to hold out much longer after this.

***

Willow waited out the last hours before dawn, cautiously opening the door to her balcony only when the darkness had receded. "Oh Goddess!" she whimpered when she saw the uprooted flowers covering the balcony. Her heart was thudding as if she'd found it coated with blood rather than fragrant blooms. Either way, getting gifts from a vampire was a bad, bad, _bad_ thing, she was sure. Gifts and vampires inevitably lead to... other, more sinister things. Like... well, things that she was sure that she really didn't want to know about.
 

It was definitely time to let Buffy and Giles in on her little secret, now that she was absolutely positive that this entire mess wasn't just a fluke. Another one. Bigger and much more dangerous, and exciting enough to put the illicit thrill she felt when Xander's lips fastened against her to shame.
 

Spike was a vampire, an evil, blood sucking demon, but still... he was without a doubt, gorgeous. Which was half the problem. Not only did she have to worry about her nicely packaged potential death, she would also have to face Buffy and Xander's stunned incredulity. "Spike and _Willow_?!" she could imagine them saying in unison, with identical wide eyed stares, "but _why_?"
 

And then, the looks of understanding when she offered her theory. "Well, duh! Of course it would take a love spell gone wrong to get Spike to obsess over _Willow_," her two best friends exclaimed as one in Willow's mind, perfect understanding in their eyes. "The poor vamp will probably _so_ embarrassed when we manage to get that spell off of him," they continued mercilessly.
 

Willow groaned dejectedly.
 

And the worst thing -- other than the potential gruesome death at Spike's hands... and the reactions of her friends... and the bills she'd have to pay if anyone found out what had happened to all of the city's newly planted flowers (_again_)... -- the worst thing after _that_ was... oh, yes! The worst thing was that if Spike _hadn't_ been a psychotic, undead killer, this would almost have been romantic.
 

In fact, she felt a swoon coming on that very instant -- or was that a faint?
 

Willow shook her head and looked at herself in the mirror hanging over her dresser. "Willow Rosenburg, if you're getting gooey over a demon and pilfered flowers -- you definitely need to get out more!"

***

She would have told them, Willow insisted to herself, had fate not been conspiring against her. It turned out that the uprooted flowers -- worms, clumps of dirt still clinging to the roots, and all -- had been the most promising part of her day. Upon arriving at school, Willow had been confronted by a coldly mocking Cordelia whose razor sharp insults had obviously not been dulled by her time in Xander's presence. The former cheerleader had succeeded admirably in her goal of making Willow feel both dowdy and like a man stealing whore. It was a novel combination for the shy red head.
 

And then there was Oz... dear, wonderful, loving, loyal Oz who was quite studiously ignoring her after her little... indiscretion with Xander. Dear, wonderful, loving, loyal Oz who wasn't fending off his groupies so well as he had previously. Why, one of the hussies had actually managed to touch his hand! Oz looked in Willow's direction, blinked once, and turned back towards the other girl.
 

There had then been a comment about her sweater -- which Buffy had told her with an absolutely straight face did _not_ look as if a birthday cake had been smeared across the chest!
 

By the time she reached the library, Willow was immersed in an unhealthy dose of misery. She was just in time to hear Xander wish that he had never kissed her. That definitely smarted. She had wished the exact same thing -- but was she not worth getting dumped over? Would he be complaining if he had been dumped because had been kissing some blonde bimbo... or maybe Buffy?
 

Giles was reading that morning's paper, muttering something about 'hooligans'. He lowered the paper enough to look at Willow over it's top. "Someone destroyed the public gardens again," Giles said angrily. "Do those... those... _hooligans_ have no respect for nature?!" Willow hadn't realized that the Watcher was such a nature lover. She doubted that he would find the uprooted garden on her balcony at all amusing.
 

"Good morning!" Willow squeaked.
 

Buffy was already on her feet, hurrying towards the witch. She clasped Willow's shoulders, looking into her face intently. "Oh, God, Willow! Did you hear what he said? You must have, poor baby, you look horrid!" She pulled Willow into a hug, rubbing at her back and making soothing, nonsensical noises.
 

"I'm fine, Buffy!" Willow protested around a mouthful of Buffy's shirt. "Really, never better."
 

Buffy turned around and cast a dark look in Xander's direction. "I _completely_ understand, Wills. You don't want to break down in front of _him_. C'mon," the Slayer said firmly, grabbing hold of Willow's hand. She pulled the other girl out of the library, marching her into the bathroom. Buffy firmly bolted the door behind them.
 

"All right, Willow, we're alone. Let it out, honey. I understand what you're going through, really. I _feel_ your pain."
 

Willow gulped. "I'm fine, Buffy. Painless. Without pain. No pain here."
 

Buffy shook her head. "Oh, no! Don't you pull any of that stoic, cheerful crap with me, Willow! I _know_ the agony of heartbreak! Getting dumped by Oz, breaking off your illicit affair with Xander because he'd still rather be with Cordy... God, you must be miserable. But don't you worry any. I'll give you a makeover and make you look attractive, and you'll be able to get any guy you want!"
 

"You don't think that I could get a guy like this?" Willow asked gesturing at her cake-splattered shirt, frumpy skirt and mustard yellow tights.
 

"Only a blind one. And maybe not even then," Buffy muttered. She looked at Willow guiltily. "Ah, I meant of course you could! Because guys are just _so_ interested about what's _inside_." She nodded certainly. "But we _really_ do need to get that thing off of you."

***

Spike sighed lustily as he watched Willow step out of the school. Classes had ended some hours ago, but the young witch had remained late to help the Slayer and Watcher plot how to destroy the newest threat to Sunnydale. He loved the girl dearly, but that was one nasty habit that he would have to insist she break.
 

She was wearing _the_ shirt again -- the one that looked as if she had smeared cheerfully colored cake frosting over pert little breasts. What he wouldn't do to help her clean that little mess up, preferably with his tongue. Mustard yellow tights clung to shapely legs, the... unique color drawing one's eyes towards slim thighs and curving calves. _Beautiful_.
 

Imagining the admiring stares which must have been directed at his beauteous, young, soon-to-be-lover made a sharp bolt of rage race through the vampire. Once she finally fell into his arms, he would have to remind her to save such provocative outfits for his eyes alone. Although once he got his hands on her, she wouldn't be needing much in the way of outfits at all.
 

He scowled when he noted the Slayer emerge from the school behind his Willow. The blonde laid a hand upon Willow's shoulder, and the vampire bit back a protesting growl.
 

"I'm not sure about this, Buffy," Willow objected. "I mean, really, what's wrong with my clothes?"
 

Spike couldn't contain his gasp of outrage. Slutty the Slayer had dared disparage the clothing his Willow had chosen to clothe her delightful form in?
 

Buffy bit her lip lightly. "Oh, nothing, Wills! But I'm sure you'd look even better if you put you into something a little less... frumpy? Pre-schoolish?" She circled Willow thoughtfully. "C'mon, show everybody how hot you can be! _Please_, Willow? It'll make me feel better and it'll take your mind off of your problems, too."
 

"Hot?" Willow shook her head. "Oh no, I don't want to be hot! Being lukewarm has gotten me into enough trouble as is." She peered around their darkness cloaked surroundings suspiciously, and Spike felt a thrill of joy. She was thinking of him!
 

"Just give it a try, Willow. If you don't think that you look utterly awesome when I'm done with you, I promise that I'll keep all future comments to myself." She grinned triumphantly at Willow's reluctant nod. Buffy grabbed Willow's wrist, tugging at her impatiently. "C'mon, I have a pile of clothes on my bed just waiting for you to try on."
 

'Willow _changing_?' Spike thought reverently. And for a moment before leaving home, he had feared that he was bogging himself down with binoculars for no good reason!
 

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