____________________________
Common Ground
Due to schedule conflicts, Spike had to put off tutoring until Saturday.
Buffy was none too pleased, considering she wanted at least five long hours to
get ready for her date that night. But since she didn’t really have a choice,
she just laid on her bed, waiting for Spike to arrive. When he finally did, she
sighed and got herself into school-mode.
Now they were both laying on her bed staring up at the ceiling, talking about
everything but school.
“That’s such a lie!” Buffy exclaimed, trying to hold back her laughter. “I so
did not fall into that huge mud puddle. You pushed me!”
“Whatever, Summers. You know you fell,” Spike chuckled.
“Oh, my God. I can’t believe you. You totally pushed me. And what about that
time you were trying to show off on your new skateboard? You like crashed into a
brick wall.”
“You threw rocks in my path!”
Buffy laughed, remembering Spike get up close and personal with the side of a
building.
“Yeah, guilty as charged. But hey, at least your crush didn’t witness your
little mishap. Owen saw me “fall” into the mud puddle and called me Stinky Buffy
for weeks. I was scarred for life.”
“Yeah, well, Drusilla, the object of my many affections, just happened to be
walking by the day you threw my Power Rangers knickers on top of the flag pole
in your front yard.”
“Oh, my God! I almost forgot about that!” Buffy practically snorted, remembering
the look on Dru’s face.
“Laugh it up, pet,” Spike grumbled, when Buffy continued to laugh hysterically.
“Oh!” she cried, smacking him in the chest with her small hand. “Remember
Valentine’s Day when you bought her roses? It turned out she was allergic and
had an asthma attack right in the middle of English class!”
“That was right bloody humiliating. Thanks for reminding me.”
“And then the ambulance came and drove her away!”
Spike just stared blankly up at the ceiling, while Buffy writhed in giggles
beside him.
“Good times,” she breathed, wiping her watering eyes after the laughter finally
subsided. She glanced over at the man lying next to her and felt a sudden pang
of nostalgia. “And remember --“ she began.
“Please, spare a shred of my dignity, will you?” Spike pleaded.
“-- that time when we were laying on my bed just like this making wishes to the
glow in the dark stars on my ceiling?”
This caught Spike’s attention and he looked in her direction.
“I wished you and me would get married someday and have seven and a half babies.
Seven and a half just happened to be my favorite number at the time,” she told
him. “And you wished…”
“That my mum would come back,” he finished for her. He was no longer looking at
her, but somewhere just above her shoulder. The far-off look in his eyes told
her that it was time to change the subject.
“Gatsby!” she blurted. “Gotta love Gatsby.”
Spike’s concentration broke and he sat up on the bed.
“Right then,” he murmured, and headed off down the stairs.
Buffy sighed and hesitantly followed.
“You know, Spike,” she started, as they stood together in her kitchen. “I’m, um…
really sorry about what I said the other day. About…”
“Forget it,” he said, scuffing his foot against the stained tile. “I reckon I
deserved it.”
“No,” she replied, adamantly. “It was a low blow and I didn’t mean it.”
He turned to her then and Buffy swore she saw a hint of tears in his eyes. Her
heart wrenched just a little bit and she gave him a sympathetic smile.
“Well then. While we’re on the topic of childhood memories, you don’t happen to
have any cake mix do you?”
Buffy’s smile brightened and she was thankful for the change of scenery.
“Cake mix, huh? Of the chocolate?”
“You know it.”
Buffy let a giggle slip between her lips as she darted over to the kitchen
pantry. The last time her and Spike baked together seemed like forever ago. But
if she had to pinpoint one of the most entertaining times of her life, that
would definitely rank. The mess they made was beyond catastrophic, her mom
grounded her for what seemed like at least a millennium, and their so-called
“cake” looked more like it came from a cow’s rear end instead of a box, but she
had never had more fun. Just the thought of some baking festivities with Spike
had her skipping around the kitchen.
“We can’t make a mess or Mom will so kill me.”
“And that’s a bad thing how?” Spike inquired with the slight raise of his
eyebrow.
“Ha. And another ha for good measure,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Do you
even remember how to make this thing?”
“Did we ever know how to in the first place? And even so, shouldn’t you know
this stuff anyway? Girls are into the baking and so forth.”
“Not this girl. I’m all with the studying and… well, that’s pretty much it.”
“There’s this thing called a life, love. Look into it sometime.”
“Oh, I have. Trust me. Read it in a book once and it looked kinda neat.”
Spike smiled.
“How did we even get here?” he wondered out loud.
“Umm, into the kitchen? Well, my staircase sorta --“
“Metaphorically speaking,” he interrupted, suppressing a chuckle.
“Oh. Right. Hmm. I think saving your sorry ass had something to do with it.”
Spike just shrugged, not wanting to get into that again. Instead he opened the
box of chocolate cake mix and began to tear the packaging. When he noticed Buffy
staring at him, he glanced over. She had a fascinated look on her face and her
eyes seemed to sparkle a bit.
Oh, god. A guy knew he was in trouble when he noticed they way a woman’s eyes
sparkled. Legs? Sure. Boobs? Of course. But eye sparkles?
He sighed, really not in the mood to go there. Ever since the day she had
unselfishly risked her life for his, he had seen her in a whole knew light. And
as the days progressed, the light kept getting brighter and brighter. He found
himself thinking about her more often than not and it was definitely unnerving.
Just a week ago, he never gave her a second thought, unless it was a random
moment of her falling on her face or something of the sort. And then he would
laugh. But now… now when he thought about her, it was way she smiled. Or the way
she moved. Or how the sun gave off glints of gold and silver streaks in her long
blonde hair.
Damn. Eye sparkles and hair glints. Trouble was an understatement.
“What are you looking at?” he finally asked her.
“You,” she admitted. “Never thought I’d see you standing in my kitchen opening
up cake mix.”
“Yeah, well. You’re taking this to the grave, you know.”
“I know,” she smiled.
Stop smiling! he inwardly shouted.
“You’re actually not so bad to be around when you’re not making fun of me,
Spike,” Buffy suddenly said to him. “But I wonder, is this a permanent thing? Or
are you going to take on the “bad-ass-Buffy’s-a-dork” persona come next Monday?”
Spike cleared his throat as he began mixing the ingredients. He actually
wondered that himself. What would his friends say if they saw him associating
with her? Would they even be his friends anymore? But if he ignored Buffy, then
where did that leave him? Where did that leave them? Right back to the
beginning, that’s where. So the question was, which friends was he more willing
to risk? The people who took him to the most parties or the girl he could spill
his life story to? Better yet, the girl who knew his life story? That answer
seemed pretty clear, even to him.
“No, I’m not,” he finally told her. “I promise.”
She beamed at this, obviously pleased.
“Good. Now where’s the flour?”
* * *
“Shit, Spike! Look at me! Riley’s gonna be here in like ten minutes and I look
like Frosty the Snowman!” Buffy complained, her voice an octave higher that
necessary.
Spike just gave her a half grin, pleased at what he’d accomplished. But the fact
that he looked equally Frosty-ish had him less than thrilled.
“I can’t believe this. I really can’t. How did I let this happen?”
“Oh, please, Buffy. It’s just a little flour. Take a shower and be done with it
already.”
“Right. Just a… just a little?! Are you nuts? The world could survive on the
amount of flour I’m covered in right now!”
Spike’s grin remained in place, offering little support to her life threatening
situation.
“This is all your fault, you know. I was just standing there, happily minding my
own cake-baking business, when you put flour in my hair.”
“What? I couldn’t help it. You’re hair needed some… oomph.”
“That’s where hair spray comes in. But flour? No, I’m not a pastry.”
Mmm. A Buffy pastry.
Luckily, his train of thought was broken when the doorbell rang. He glanced at
Buffy, as her eyes grew wide as saucers and her jaw dropped open.
“Oh, my God. It’s Riley. Riley’s here. Cute boy at my house and I’m covered in
baking goods. Oh, my God.”
“You look great,” he told her, and began pushing her towards the front door.
“What are you doing? What the hell are you doing? I can’t answer the door like
this!”
“Of course you can,” he replied, continuing to push her. Her feet resisted and
made squeaking sounds against the kitchen tile. But as they moved onto the
carpet, they started to burn and she began putting up a fight.
“Spike, let go! Stop!” she squealed, as the door approached.
Her small body wriggled against his and he had to suppress a groan. Damn her.
They finally reached the door and Spike enthusiastically flung it open. Riley
stood there, dressed head to toe in Abercrombie apparel, obviously startled to
see him. But when he glanced over at a humiliated Buffy, his eyes widened.
“Riley. Hi! Um… excuse me,” she blurted, finally wrenching free from Spike’s
grasp. She flew up the stairs at lightening speed, all the while trying to
remember how to put on mascara.
“Spike,” Riley greeted casually, as he entered the Summers’ home. “What are you
doing here?”
“Tutoring Buffy.”
Riley raised an eyebrow, taking in the white powder both Spike and Buffy were
covered in. “Tutoring her… in what?”
“Uh, cake baking class.”
The jock nodded, seemingly accepting his answer. After about twenty minutes went
by in uncomfortable silence, Buffy finally jogged down the staircase, tripping
on her high heal when she reached the bottom. Luckily, Riley was there to catch
her fall. Spike rolled his eyes.
“Thanks,” she told him sheepishly.
“You look nice,” he replied.
He then put his hand gently on the small of her back, leading her out the door.
As he opened it, Joyce jumped back startled.
“Oh! Buffy? Where are you going dressed like that?”
Buffy gulped and crossed her arms over her chest. She was wearing a black mini
skirt and a low-cut vintage tank that Anya had helped her pick out.
“Um, a date.”
“Not like that you’re not. Go back inside and change,” she reprimanded.
“But, Mom --“
“Now, Buffy. And who are you?” she asked, glancing at the boy who was touching
her only daughter’s shoulder.
“Riley Finn. And I’d just like you to know that I have Buffy’s best interest at
hand.”
Spike audibly snorted in the background and Joyce looked behind him.
“Spike?” she questioned. She was happy to see him, so she didn’t bother to
mention the fact that he was wearing the ingredients to her 80 year old mother’s
birthday cake. She’d interrogate later.
“Uh, hey Ms. Summers,” he replied, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his
jeans.
Buffy rolled her eyes at the embarrassing situation. Riley probably thought she
was headcase or something.
“Mom, can I please go? Riley’s already been waiting like a half an hour.”
Joyce seemed to think about it for a bit. Buffy had never been on a date before
and she assumed she’d be easily influenced. Neither of them knew this boy well
enough to know what his intentions were. And Buffy was probably more than
trusting when it came to his advances.
“I don’t know, Buffy… I’d prefer that you didn’t.”
“Mom!”
“Unless there’s a chaperone of some sort.”
“Oh, my God…”
“Would you mind me coming with? I’ll keep out of sight…”
“Are you kidding?!”
“Unless Spike wouldn’t mind going. Then it would be like going as a group of
friends.”
“Mom, please!”
“I actually like that idea. Spike?”
He smiled.
“I’d love to, Ms. Summers.
____________________________
First Date
Poor Buffy. Some higher power had pointed at her and said, "There! A girl who's never been on a date before. Let her ex-best-friend-bordering-on-almost-friend-again ruin this special night for her so she can wallow in self-pity for all eternity."
"You look quite dashing tonight, Finn," Spike commented, sitting in the back of Riley's Chevy convertible and draping his arms over the two seats in front of him. "That shirt fits the whole womanizer look to a tee."
Buffy sighed.
"So, Buffy," Riley said, ignoring Spike's anti-flattery. "I was thinking a nice dinner, then the Bronze. Is that okay with you?"
Buffy glanced over at her handsome date and smiled brightly.
"Sounds amazing," she replied, also choosing to ignore the infurating blonde. She wasn't going to let him destroy a perfect evening with the perfect guy.
They pulled into the parking lot of Portifino's, an exquisite Italian restaurant. Buffy couldn't believe the extremes Riley was going to for her. She was expecting some cheap pizza and maybe a movie if time permitted. Aren't those the types of dates most teenagers go on?
Spike got out the car and walked ahead, opening the door for them. "Ladies first."
Riley scowled.
"Wow, this place is beautiful, Riley," Buffy said, glancing around the dim-lit building.
"A beautiful place for a beautiful girl," he replied, with a grin.
Spike rolled his eyes and suppressed a gag. "Be a minute," he told them, and headed off to the bathroom.
Buffy and Riley promptly left to get a table.
"Two?" the hostess asked.
They nodded.
"Right this way, please."
She lead them to a secluded booth with plush seats and warm candlelight. They slid in across from each other.
"Maybe he won't even find us over here. He's not too bright," Riley smiled.
Buffy giggled. "I know what you mean. This one time when I was tutoring him, I told him to read Gatsby. But he blew it off, of course, to go party or something. Well, there was this one part in the book where Daisy --" She suddenly shut her mouth when she noticed Riley staring at her blankly. "Where Daisy, um... had sex with lots of guys and got super drunk."
"Cool!"
Just then Spike sauntered over to them, hands in his pockets. He was greeted with simletaneous eye rolls.
"Miss me, love?" he asked, and proceeded to slide in next to Buffy.
"What? What are you doing? Sit somewhere else!" she demanded, trying to push him out of the seat.
"Well, it's not my fault you two tried to bail on me. Joyce specifically asked me to tag along and keep an eye on Buffy."
"I don't need a chaperone, Spike," she insisted. "Mom just worries. You really don't even need to be here. I mean, don't you have better things to do? You're a good looking guy... go find some girl and --"
"You think I'm good looking?" he smirked.
"Ugh. Just get up, will you?"
Spike finally sighed and pulled a chair over to the table, seating himself at the end of it.
"Happy now?" he asked.
"Getting there. But once you do the whole disappearing thing, I'll be in full happy-mode," Buffy told him.
Her and Riley shared a grin and Spike just sulked in his chair. This wasn't turning out as well as he planned. As the dinner progressed, all Riley did was talk about himself and all Buffy did was giggle and nod, occassionally sending a icy glare in Spike's direction. He desperately needed to get Buffy alone, because he was well aware of Riley's intentions. Especially by the way he kept his eyes on her chest when he spoke to her. So when their waiter returned with Riley's refilled glass of Coke, Spike took the opportunity to reach over the table and get a napkin, "accidentally" knocking Riley's glass into his lap as he did so.
"Fuck!" Riley shouted. "You asshole!"
"Sorry, Finn. Accident is all."
"Accident my ass! Excuse me, Buffy." He then stood up, all eyes on him, and hurried off to the bathroom. Buffy stared wide-eyed and slightly red at his retreating form.
"God, Spike, could you be anymore of a prick?"
"What did I do?! I said I was sorry."
"Whatever. I know you did that on purpose," she spat at him.
"Look, Buffy. This guy is no good for you. All he wants is --"
"No!" she said. "He likes me. I know he does. And that pisses you off."
"Hardly, Summers. Don't flatter yourself."
"Trust me, if I needed flattery, you'd be the last person I'd go to."
Spike looked slightly hurt by this, but he brushed it off. He wasn't going to let Buffy get taken advantage of. But before he could say anymore, Riley was already heading back to the table. Buffy leaned over to Spike, whispering a final threat in his ear.
"Listen to me, you bleached moron, say or do anything else remotely embarrassing, I swear to God I'll..."
"What? Throw a dictionary at me?" he mocked, cutting her off mid-sentence.
Buffy's jaw clenched and she turned away from him. Just looking at him made her want to hit something. Preferably his arrogant face.
"Sorry for that, Buffy," Riley apologized, sitting back down in his seat. "I didn't mean to lose my temper."
"It's alright. It was understandable," she replied, smiling softly at him. "Spike should be the one apologizing."
Buffy kicked him from under the table.
"Uh, right. I'm deeply shamed."
The couple rolled their eyes. Dinner went on, less eventful than the first five minutes. Spike barely said a word, as Riley filled Buffy in on the wonders of football and beer. She just gave him a variety of smiles and nods, sometimes giggling if he made a lame joke. Spike wondered if Buffy even liked the personality lacking ponce. He assumed she just enjoyed the attention.
When supper finally ended, Buffy gathered her coat and purse and Riley helped her from her seat. Spike stood up, sulking his way to the car.
"Wanna go to the Bronze?" Riley asked, reaching out to hold Buffy's hand. Spike scowled.
"Sure! The Bronze is fun. And fun is me."
"Great," he smiled.
They all piled into the car, making their way to the popular teen hang out in silence. As the three approached the loud building, one of Riley's football buddies stopped them.
"Dude, who's the chick?" asked the bulky brunette.
"Hey, Percy. This is Buffy," Riley introduced, with a grin.
"Buffy? Buffy Summers? She's that geek from school, right?"
Buffy put her head down. Riley cleared his throat and leaned in to his friend.
"She's hot now, man. Look at her," he tried.
Percy snapped his gum and gave her a once over.
"Suppose so. Gimme her number when you're done with her," he winked, and then took off to meet up with the rest of his friends.
As the football player jogged off, Riley decided to catch up with him. He didn't want the rumor mill to start, the focus being on him with the school nerd.
"Uh, listen, Buffy. I'll be right back," he told her and took off down the road.
Buffy finally lifted her head, tears shining through her eyes. No matter what she did, she would always be looked upon as a loser. She suddenly realized Spike's presence, and blinked back the threatening tears.
"You alright?" he asked, genuinely concerned.
"I'm fine. Let's just... go inside or something."
Spike nodded and followed her into the dance club. There were swarms of people dancing vigorously to the upbeat sounds of a popular local band. Suddenly, Buffy stopped and whipped around to face Spike.
"Do I just scream "loser" to you?" she demanded.
Spike frowned, in surprise. "Course not, love."
"Well, you used to think so. But what, I put on a little makeup, lose the glasses, and suddenly I'm not queen of the super geeks anymore? Is our generation that shallow? A-And what about what Percy said? He seems to think that no matter how I look, I'm still in the running as a complete idiot."
"Percy's a fool. You're beautiful."
The words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them. He noticed the startled look on Buffy's face and her features began to soften. He swore she was about to smile, when Riley came trudging back over to them.
"So sorry about that, Buffy. I just had to clear a few things up with the guys."
"Oh. Right. I-It's fine." She glanced over at Spike again, before Riley grabbed her hand and lead her to the dance floor.
Spike reluctantly followed, semi-disgusted with himself. Why did he just say that to her? It's not like it wasn't the truth or anything, but since when did they become compliment buddies? He shook his head and sat down at a nearby table, watching as Riley pulled Buffy against his chest. They danced for a while, smiling and chatting, not even realizing when one song ended and another one started. Spike just rolled his eyes, sussing the place out for a cute blonde. One that wasn't Buffy Summers. But before his eyes could wander, he noticed Riley's hands begin to make their way down Buffy's body. They moved slowly from her back, to her waist, to her...
Spike was suddenly out of his seat, situating himself between the dancing couple.
"Hey, uh, Finn. I hear their givin' out free beer at the bar. All ages."
Riley's eyes widened in excitment and he stepped away, giving Buffy a wink before he left. Spike took the opportunity to put his arms around the startled blonde.
"What the hell are you doing? They never give out beer to minors. And he was just telling me about field goals!" she feigned interest.
"I'm sure it was a delightful little chat. But the poof tried to grab your ass," he informed her, swaying her gently to the music.
Buffy flushed. "Oh. Well. M-Maybe I wanted him to grab my ass! Ever think about that? Obviously not, since you had to worm your stupid self between--oh!"
Spike reached down and took a mound of flesh in his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. He grinned.
"You! You... grabbed my ass! You pervert!" she squealed, pounding a small fist against his hard chest.
He ran his tongue across his upper lip and raised an eyebrow suggestively. "Thought that's what you wanted, pet," he told her.
Buffy's face turned even redder. "Not you! Riley. Riley, my date! God, Spike, you're sucha jerk!"
"Aw, c'mon, pet, you know you liked it."
"Hardly," she protested. "Now let me go. I have a date to be on. With someone who isn't you."
Spike frowned, and pulled her closer to him, crushing her body against his. But before Buffy could push him away, Riley spun Spike around and decked him in the face. The blonde reeled backwards, crashing through one of the nearby tables.
"That's it, Whitebread. Say goodbye to that poster boy face of yours," he leered, picking himself up and charging at the football player.
The two tumbled to the ground, throwing punches left and right. A crowd immediately formed around them, as Buffy frantically tried to pry them apart.
"Stop it!" she begged. "Riley, get off him!"
The large crowd cheered and whistled, as the two men pummeled each other. Buffy finally had enough and decided to step in. As she attempted to pull the jock from off of Spike, his arm came flying backwards, sending her sprawling across the hard floor. She slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Spike noticed Riley's brutal, although accidental, attack and kneed him between the legs with alarming force. Riley howled in pain, finally rolling off of him. Spike quickly rose to his feet and jogged over to Buffy, wiping blood from his lip in the process.
"She's out cold," he heard someone say.
"Dude, I think she's dead," commented another.
Spike pushed past the curious onlookers and knelt down beside the wounded blonde. As soon as he reached out to her, she mumbled something unintelligent and her eyes blinked open.
"Buffy? You alright, love?" Spike asked, worriedly.
It took a moment for Buffy to adjust to her surroundings, but her mind quickly undizzified. She lay there in shock for a minute longer, before rising carefully to her feet. Spike tried to help her up, but she pushed him away.
"Stay away from me," she demanded, sending him a deadly glare.
Spike frowned, but stepped back anyway. She finally looked away from him and headed towards the entrance. Not looking back, she stepped out into the darkness and made her way home.
____________________________
After Hours
Buffy tossed and turned that night, restlessness taking over some much needed sleep. Not to mention the throbbing in her jaw, that ceased to go away. She dreaded the large purple bruise that would inevitably be hanging out on her face the next day. She wasn't upset with Riley for giving her the painful souvenir, because it was entirely an accident. It was Spike she was mad at. He totally ruined her night. With his off-handed comments, arrogant smirks, and everything else that came with the stupid Spike package. If he hadn't groped her ass in the middle of the dance floor, Riley never would have been protector guy and hit him. Then he never would have hit her. It was a pretty simple conclusion: hate Spike, pray Riley calls tomorrow.
Just as she was about to finally drift into a dreamless sleep, she heard a clanking sound against the side of the house. Against HER side of the house. She gulped, and quickly glanced over at her open window. A light breeze blew through, making her curtains eerily dance before her eyes. It wasn't long before she heard the same sound, and jolted out of bed, her heart racing. She conveniently grabbed the lava lamp on her nightstand, and stood up on shaking legs. Slowly approaching the adjacent window, makeshift weapon in hand, she lifted the lava lamp and swung it with all her might, just as a bleached head came into view.
"Bloody hell!" came the painful retort, as the branch holding Spike's weight snapped. He grabbed onto her window ledge just in time, while the broken branch plummeted to the earth beneath his dangling feet.
"Spike?!" Buffy proclaimed, setting the lamp back in it's place.
He used his arms to pull himself halfway up her window.
"Little... help... 'ere," he ground out, his head throbbing and clunky black boots weighing him down.
Buffy sighed and reached out her window, succeeding in pulling Spike through. He hit the floor with a loud "thud". After regaining his balance, and what was left of his dignity, he finally stood up, clearing his throat. Buffy was standing before him in a sheer nightgown, leaving little to the imagination. Her eyes were wide with question and surprise, and her chest heaved. Spike had a difficult time prying his eyes away from her scantily clad form. "Well? Are you just going to stand there and stare? Because franky--"
She suddenly noticed where his eyes were focused and with a tiny squeak, made a mad dash for her covers. Flushing furiously, she buried herself beneath them, finally free from wandering eyes.
Spike swallowed hard, snapping out of his momentary daze, and approached Buffy's bed.
"Whoa! Just stop right there!" she scolded, pulling the blankets up to her chin.
"I just came to apologize," he confessed, stopping midway.
"What? Now?! It's almost one in the morning!"
Spike frowned.
"Yeah? What of it?"
"Are you crazy? You can't be here! Mom will flip!"
"Mom won't know," he assured her, taking another precautious step towards her bedside.
"Hey! Hold it right there, buster. Unless you wanna get reaquainted with my lava lamp," she threatened.
"Bleeding hell, I can't believe you almost killed me with a night light."
"I heard a noise! You can't blame me for being armed. How was I supposed to know you would be climbing through my window in the middle of the night?" she explained, exasperated.
"Didn't mean to fighten you, pet. Just wanted to talk is all."
"Ever heard of this really neat invention called "The Telephone"? People use it in situations such as these. Although used at more approapriate times of the day, it's still quite handy."
He sighed.
"I was bored. Couldn't sleep. 'Sides, you never used to mind me climbing through you window."
"I was five then."
Suddenly, footsteps could be heard outside of Buffy's doorway.
"Buffy? Are you alright in there?" came the worried voice of one Joyce Summers.
"Oh, my god! It's my mom! Hide!" she whsipered harshly to him.
Spike looked around her room and made a mad dash to her closet. He slid himself inside, unnoticed as Buffy's mother entered the room.
"Buffy?" she asked.
"Uh, yeah? Hi, Mom!" her daughter replied, clumsily.
"Are you okay? I thought I heard something."
"Fine! I mean, I'm fine, Mom. I was just, umm... exercising!"
"Honey, it's past one."
"I know. I couldn't sleep."
Joyce smiled thoughtfully, and sat beside Buffy on her bed.
"Is this about tonight? Your date with Riley?" she questioned.
"Huh? Riley? No, no... nothing to do with Riley. I just really haven't spent much quality time with my muscles lately. They've been feeling neglected, and well, we can't have that! So, you know, I decided to exercise... at one in the morning... because of, um... neglected muscles?"
Joyce chuckled a bit under her breath, sending Buffy an understanding nod.
"I know how men can be. Your father and I were at this age once. Although we weren't as well behaved as you and your friends are," she confessed, giving a suggestive wink.
"Ugh..." Buffy groaned.
"All I'm saying is that you're getting older now. Boys are entering your life and you're going to be making some tough choices that all young girls have to make. I don't think I've ever told you this, but I was only sixteen when I lost my virginity to your father."
"Mom! Please!"
"Which makes me realize, we've never had "the talk" yet, have we?"
"About the birds and the bees? Yes, we really... really have. Those promiscuous little kids have been making their way into many of our recent conversations."
Joyce sighed.
"I just worry, Buffy."
All of a sudden, a loud crash came from Buffy's closet. Before the following "bloody hell" made it's way to her mother's newly alert ears, Buffy coughed. Loudly.
"Well! I'm so glad we had this little talk, Mom. *cough* I'll, uh, *cough* see you in the morning then!"
"Sweetheart, what was that? Are you hiding something?"
Buffy promptly got out of bed, and hurried her mom out the door.
"Nope! Who would I be hiding?"
"Who?" Joyce asked, eyes wide.
"What! I meant what! Night, Mom!"
She then shut the door in her mother's face, leaving a bewildered Joyce to proceed back to bed. Buffy sighed in a both relief and annoyance, as she turned her back to the door. With a roll of her emerald eyes, she made her way to her closet and whipped it open. Spike stood there, covered head to toe in stuffed animals, looking none too pleased. Buffy couldn't suppress her giggles at the sight before her.
"Don't say a bloody word," he threatened, removing Tweety Bird and friends from off of himself and tossing the stuffed creatures to the floor. "I had an itch and when I moved, a box fell on my head."
Buffy continued to laugh, as Spike stepped out of the small closet.
"Yeah, yeah. Right hysterical, I suppose."
"It really was," she sighed, wiping her glistening eyes.
Spike ignored the half-naked girl in front of him, and plopped down on her fluffy bed. She squealed in protest, remembering again why she hated him. And what the hell was he doing here in the first place?!
"Spike, go home," she told him, all evidence of her previous laugh-a-thon, now gone.
"I want to apologize," he simply stated.
"Good for you. Now leave. I'm tired!" she whined.
"Just hear me out will you?"
With a half hearted sigh, she sat down beside him on the bed, forgetting about her state of dress. But when she caught him trying to sneak a peep down her nighty, she quickly blushed and darted beneath the safety of her comforter once again.
Spike rolled his eyes.
"I didn't mean to ruin your date, love," he finally admitted.
Buffy sat up and held the blanket just above her chest.
"Yeah, well, you did. Now Riley probably thinks I'm some whacked out sheltered geek, who needs the one person she hates most to accompany her on her first date."
"First date? I didn't know it was your first..." he told her, suddenly feeling worse than he already had.
"Whatever. What's done is done. Riley's never gonna speak to me again," she scowled, flopping backwards on her bed dramatically.
"Why wouldn't he? I was the one who botched things up. Not you."
"It doesn't matter. You were with me. When he thinks of me, he thinks of you, then he thinks of badness. Badness equals no more Buffy hang out time," she pouted, jutting out her bottom lip.
Spike eyed the rosy morsel, unable to help thinking she looked absolutely adorable when she pouted. But it still didn't rectify her current predicament. He decided he'd have to smooth things over come Monday.
"Well, if it makes it any better, I am sorry," he told her, seriously.
Buffy huffed and sat up again.
"No, nothing is better. Sorry doesn't change the fact that I'm a loser and always will be a loser! I'm gonna die a loser. Hell, my tombstone is going to say "Here lies... LOSER! Hahahaha!"
"Buffy, I think you're overreacting."
She just stared at him.
"Overreacting? Really not! How could you even say that? You have no idea what it's like to be me. It sucks beyond the telling of it."
Spike's heart reached out to her. He knew the hell she went through for the past four years. He was the cause of most of it.
As the tears began to well up in her sad green eyes, Spike laid a gentle hand on her forearm. She flinched, but didn't pull away. His touch was somehow comforting. She put her head down, as a tear slipped past her eyelid.
"I just wish..." she sniffled, unable to look at him.
"What?" he asked, softly, lifing her chin with his index finger.
"I just wish... things were like they used to be..." she finally admitted, swallowing back a lump in the back of her throat.
Spike sighed sadly, leaning forward and kissing her lightly on the temple. Buffy's eyes widened at his compassionate gesture, wondering how he could go from wanting to make her life miserable, to wanting just the opposite in only a day's time.
"Riley will take you back," he told her, confidently.
Buffy's heart skipped a beat at this.
"What makes you so sure?"
"Trust me," he assured her. "Come Monday, and Riley Finn will practically be begging on his hands and knees to go out with you again."
She smiled at the imagery.
"Promise?" she asked, finally letting herself succumb to a smile.
He smiled back.
"I promise."
____________________________
Better Than Ice Cream
Monday finally came and Spike was on a mission. He sauntered down the crowded hallways, like a cat stalking it's prey. All eyes were on him, for determination was etched upon his chiseled face. When he finally rounded the corner, there stood Riley Finn and the rest of his football playing poofters. As soon as Riley spotted the black-clad blonde who practically emasculated him Saturday night, he began to back away. His friends noticed Spike coming their way, and after hearing about the past weekend's disaster, they left Riley to fend for himself.
"Listen, man, if she's your girl or something, you can have her," Riley offered, holding out his hands in defense. "My manhood just isn't worth it."
"She better be worth it," Spike spat, shoving the well-built teenager against the lockers. "And she's not my girl."
"Get your hands off me, you piece of sh--ooooww!"
"Listen up, mate. You're taking Buffy out again on Friday night. She's going to have a bloody well amazing time, got it? But if you touch her, hurt her, look at her in anyway that's not to my liking, you'll be sorry. I may not be there physically this time, but I have my ways. And if she doesn't have the biggest smile on her face when she's through, your dick will be the last thing you need to worry about." He paused a moment for affect. "Am I making myself clear?"
Riley nodded, and Spike loosened his grip on the boy.
"Good then. Pick her up at seven and don't be a sodding second late."
And with that, he let him go and hurried to his next class before the bell rang.
~~~
"I still can't believe you slept with Spike!" Willow exclaimed, lowering her voice when all eyes turned in their direction.
"Willow!" Buffy admonished. "I didn't sleep with Spike. We stayed up talking and our eyes just sorta closed. But there was no sleeping!"
"Of course. Just some innocent eye closing."
"Exactly," Buffy agreed, stopping at her locker to grab her history book.
"But still! How could you even let him in your house after he ruined your date with Riley? I - I mean, he was so annoying! With the coke spilling, a-and ass grabbing!"
"Cut him some slack, Will. He was just... okay, annoying. But we worked it out and stuff."
"I still say we kick his butt. Oh! Do you want to? I mean, you can kick since my legs are kinda weak... but I'll back you up with some serious scowling!"
Buffy smiled at her friend and shut her locker door.
"Nah. We're kinda friends again, actually. We talked like for hours about all sorts of pointless stuff, until we fell asleep."
Willow's eyes widened.
"Oh! I mean... since our eyes did that thing where they're not open anymore."
"Right. Because there was no sleeping with Spike."
"Absolutely no sleeping."
Suddenly, Buffy jumped as two manly hands clamped around her eyes.
"Guess who," came the familiar voice.
Buffy smiled.
"Umm... Riley?"
"Pfft."
"No? Hmm, Angel?"
"Hardly!"
"Not Angel, huh? Uh... oh! That freak from bio? I really hope not because I saw him picking his nose today in class, and that would just be gross."
Spike sighed in exasperation and removed his hands from over her eyes.
"Very funny, love."
"Aren't I?" she grinned, turning around to face him.
Spike glanced at Willow, about to say hello, when he noticed her looking at him oddly.
"Uh, is everything alright, pet? Your face... you look a little..."
"Constipated?" Buffy offered.
Willow's shoulders sagged in defeat.
"You guys! I was scowling! It was supposed to be threatening!" she pouted.
Spike chuckled and Buffy rolled her eyes. Suddenly, a shadowy presence was looming over Buffy, and she whirled around. Riley stood before her, a sheepish grin on his face.
"Uh, hi, Buffy. Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked.
Her features lit up and she nodded numbly. Riley then pulled her away from the small group.
"Oh, goddess. Think he's gonna ask her out again?" Willow wondered, staring wide-eyed at her friend and the popular jock.
"If he knows what's good for him..."
They got their answer as soon as Riley walked away, and the biggest grin ever was dancing across Buffy's glowing face. As soon as the jock was out of sight, she ran full speed into Spike's arms, smile never wavering.
"Ahhhh! He asked me out again!" she squealed, giddily, wrapping her tiny arms around his waist.
Spike hesitanty pat her back, forcing a smile to surface.
"That's... that's great, love. I told you he would," Spike said, covering up a strange feeling of... jealousy?
"I know. Oh, my god. This is just so... ahhh!"
She then let go of Spike and ran to Willow, giving her an equally painful bear hug.
"Oh!" the red-head squeaked. "Oxygen... not important..."
"Sorry," Buffy smiled, finally pulling away. "I just can't belive it. I thought for sure Riley crossed me off his list!"
"List? Um, is that good thing?" Willow pondered.
"He said he's picking me up on Friday! At 6:55!" she continued, ignoring the ache in her cheeks from smiling for so long. "Oh god, Will, we have to shopping! I have nothing to wear..."
"Calm down, Buffy. It's only Monday," her friend told her.
"Yeah, Summers. It's not like you to fret this much over a boy. And don't you have history now?"
Only then did Buffy realize the halls were vacant.
"Oh no! I'm late!"
Without another thought, she was scurrying down the hall, Willow by her side. Spike watched them go, wondering why he suddenly cared so much about little Buffy Summers.
~~~
Spike sat on his bedroom floor the following afternoon, blasting the Sex Pistols and reading Gatsby. To his surprise, the book was actually good. After lowering the volume on his stereo, so he could concentrate better, he finally noticed the blonde girl banging incessantly on his bedroom window. He frowned and stood up, realizing she was holding onto a ladder for dear life. With a small smile, he made his way over to the window and opened it.
"Jeez, Spike! I've been pounding for like ten minutes!" she gasped, obviously frightened from being so high up for that long. "And I think this ladder is a little tipsy."
"Sorry, pet. Just doin' my homework is all."
Buffy climbed through the window and glanced over at the open book laying by his bed.
"You're reading Gatsby!" she exclaimed, proudly.
"Damn right I am. Book isn't as wretched as I thought actually..."
"Told ya. It's my favorite."
She then sighed and flopped down onto his water-filled bed. Spike raised a brow.
"Mind telling a bloke exactly what you're doing here?" he wondered, watching as she tightened the pony tail on the top of her head.
"Didn't know I needed a reason. Who was the one who woke me up at one in the morning last Saturday?"
"I came over to apologize," he reminded her.
"Well, and I'm bored," she countered.
Buffy then got up and started rummaging around his room, noting how different it was from the last time she saw it. The Ninja Turtles wallpaper had been replaced with large posters of bikini-clad girls and bands she'd never heard of. His dresser was covered in trophies from when he was the star of the basketball team all through Junior year, and his water bed had Maxim magazines strewn across it.
"See anything interesting?" he asked, noticing the way she was purusing his personal space.
"Cars and naked chicks. Could you be anymore of the typical teen?" she sighed.
Spike shrugged and thew himself onto his bed, picking up one of his magazines. Buffy continued her search without warrent, browsing threw his closet and looking in drawers.
"Spare a bloke some privacy, will you Summers?"
Buffy was about to come back with some sort of witty retort, when she pulled out one of many small blue packages from his top drawer. Realizing what it was, she squeaked and immediately dropped it as if it were fire.
"Nothing!" she quickly said.
"Come again?"
"Oh. I - I thought you were gonna ask what I was doing."
Spike sighed.
"They're just condoms, love. No need to get all skittish."
"Spike!" she admonished, turning a lovely shade of pink.
"Yeah?"
"It's... it's not - not proper to talk about such things in front of... ladies," she told him.
"Since when were we living in the 1700s? 'Sides, it's not like you've never seen one before," he reasoned.
Buffy looked down at her perfectly painted toenails. Spike's eyes widened.
"Oh. I take it you haven't..."
"I have!" she tried. "I - I'm very well-educated with - with... stuff."
Spike raised an eyebrow at her.
"God, who am I kidding?" she finally relented, plopping down next to him on his water bed. "I'm pathetic. Mom tries to talk to me about it, but it's just wiggy, you know? My mom talking about... "it". Hell, I'm still convinced I was born through immaculate conception!"
He chuckled.
"You're just a bit sheltered, pet. Nothin' to fret over."
"Oh, but it is! I mean, I'm dating now and what if Riley wants to... you know?"
Spike's eyes flashed with anger.
"He bloody well better not! Finn deserves nothing you have to offer," he warned her.
"How would you know?" she questioned, a bit irritated. "He seems nice enough to me."
"Are you off your bird? The guy's got "player" written all over him!"
"Does not! You're just jealous."
"Of what?!"
"Riley! Because - because... he's taller than you!"
Spike just looked at her.
"Okay, that was lame," she admitted.
They both sighed and Spike went back to reading his magazine. Buffy laid down next to him. After a good while of silence passed between them, Buffy finally spoke.
"So, what's it like?" she wondered, her voice a bit self-conscious.
"What's what like?"
She swallowed.
"Sex."
"Oh," he replied, shifting uncomfortably on the bed. "It's... it's nice."
"Nice? Like ice cream?"
"Better than ice cream, pet. But only with the right person."
"How... how do you know? I - I mean, how do you know if it's the right person or not?"
"Sometimes you just know, I reckon."
"But what if it's not? What then?"
Spike finally set down his magazine and turned to look at her.
"Buffy, you're not seriously thinking of giving it up to that wanker, are you?"
Buffy flushed a little.
"No. I mean... not really."
"Don't," he told her simply.
"But --"
"There's nothing more beautiful about girl than her virtue. And lucky for you, you practically glow with it."
"Hey!" she pouted.
"Take it as a compliment, love. There's not many girls out there who I can say the same for."
"So, what? When I finally sleep with a guy, I'll be ugly?" she asked, increduously.
"Of course, not!" he sighed. "There's nothing ugly about you."
"But if I don't have sex I'm a geek, and if I do have sex I'm a slut!"
"I suppose it's who you have sex with. I mean, if you decided to jump my sexy bones right now, you wouldn't be a slut. Just smart," he grinned.
Buffy smacked him in the chest, with a slight grin herself.
"Ego much?"
"Not denyin' it," she shrugged, before going back into serious mode. "I'm just saying, Buffy, don't make choices based on society's standards. Just do what makes you happy."
Buffy finally nodded in understanding.
"I guess you're right. You know, you can be pretty insightful when you wanna be," she admitted. "Too bad you waste your time being such a pain in the ass."
"Beg your pardon?"
"You heard me... moron."
Spike smiled.
"Prude."
"Slacker."
"Nerd."
"Butthead."
"Did you just call me a butthead?"
"Oh, shut up."
____________________________
Feelings
"Spike, we are very disappointed in you," Cordelia scolded at lunch, the following afternoon.
"Yeah, Spikey. You traitor, you!" Harmony piped in.
"You two chits are disappointed in me? Gee, I'm afraid suicide is my only option..."
"Don't mock this, buddy. We've seen you with... her," Cordy continued.
"Summers? What of it?" Spike shrugged, dipping his fries in her ketchup.
"Are you crazy? How can you associate with that geek?"
"She's not a geek," he immediately corrected. "You don't know anything 'bout her."
"And like you do? Oh, wait! I forgot. You two used to be bestest friends!"
Harmony laughed.
"Yeah, what was that all about. She's not even cute!"
"I think she's cute," Angel added, eyeing the blonde across the cafeteria. Cordelia kicked him. "Ow!"
Spike just rolled his eyes, wondering why he still sat with these people.
"So, Angel," Harmony began. "Are you still having your 18th birthday party this Friday? If so, I need to go tanning like asap."
"Absolutely. You all better be there."
"Who's going?" Spike wondered, thinking a night of drunken festivities would be a nice change of pace.
"Like, everybody. Track team, football team, cheerleaders..."
"Football? Finn gonna be there?"
"Yeah. Says he's bringing this new chick he's been seeing," Angel shrugged.
"Buffy."
"Buffy?!" Cordy whined. "Why the hell does she get to go? Angel, make her not go!"
"Sorry, baby. Riley brings whoever he wants."
"Are you going, Spike?" Harmony asked, batting her spider eyes at him.
He glanced across the room at Buffy. She caught his gaze and gave him a warm smile.
"I'll be there."
~~~
"So, what's the deal, Buff? You and the bleached wonder over there make up?" Xander asked, chugging down his third milk. Noticing the expiration date was two weeks ago, he made a few gurgling noises and tossed the empy container into a nearby trash can.
"I guess," she replied, glancing up at said bleached wonder.
"I think that's great," Tara told her, giving her a crooked, yet endearing smile.
"Yeah, he's really not so bad. I - I mean aside from the mocking and the teasing and the overall ruining my life for the past four years."
"Aside from that," Willow chirped. "But if he ever does the life ruining thing again, let me know. I'll be sure to give him my mean face! It's kinda like my scowl, but my nose doesn't get as scrunchy."
"Right. I'll keep that in mind," Buffy smiled. "But do you guys think I'm letting him off too easy? I mean, four years of pony tail pulling torment does something to a girl."
"It depends," the red head explained. "Ten years of best friendy-ness also does something. I guess you just gotta weigh the good and the bad and see what's more important. Besides, it is your last year... you may never see him again after high school."
Buffy took this into consideration. Was she willing to look past all the torture she endured and forgive him? He seemed sorry enough. And they were getting along so well lately...
But damnit, it took hours to finally get that gum out of her hair.
"Hey, Buffy," a voice suddenly greeted to her right.
"Riley! Hey!" she enthusiastically replied.
"Listen, I know I said dinner and a movie Friday night, but Angel's having this big party. So I was wondering, would you wanna crash there instead?"
Buffy's eyes widened a bit. A party? Those things that encourage underage drinking and seriously lack in parental supervision?
"Sure!" she exclaimed. "I - I've never been to one."
"Dude, you'll love it. Angel's stocking up on the kegs."
"Kegs? Aren't those weight units for nails or something?"
Riley frowned.
"Um, kegs are beer, Buffy..." Willow quickly informed.
She reddened.
"Right. I knew that."
"Anyway," he continued. "Still picking you up at seven then?"
"I'll be ready," she smiled brightly.
"Great."
And with a wink, he was gone.
"A drunken Buffster... I'd pay to see that," Xander noted happily, exciting images floating around his adolescant brain.
Buffy rolled her eyes.
"No," she insisted. "I will not be hanging out with any sort of adult beverages. An intoxicated Buffy can only lead to bad... bad things."
"I don't tend to mix very well with parties in general," Willow added, solemnly. "Ever since I pinned the tail on Cordelia in second grade, I've pretty much steered clear of them. I think she still has a scar..."
"But - but it could be fun... right? I - I mean, parties. Woo. Ya know?" Buffy tried.
"Not really," Tara replied. "I've been to some and it basically revolves around kids passing out or having sex."
"Ugh, so not my kinda scene."
"Aw, c'mon, Buff," Xander chided. "A little drinky here, a little nakedness there... no harm done!"
"Thanks, Xander, but that's just not me."
After a few more moments of discussing the goods and bads of party doings passed, the bell finally rang.
"Well, I'm off. Catch ya laters?"
The three friends nodded and took off in opposite directions. Buffy sighed and gathered her books. As she rounded the corner to her next class, Spike suddenly stopped her, a huge grin on his handsome face.
"Got a surprise, love," he told her, fishing around his coat pockets for said surprise.
"Is it chocolate? Please be chocolate. I've been craving it in a major way."
But chocolate it wasn't. Two tickets suddenly appeared in his hand, and were being flaunted proudly in front of her face. She snatched them, eyes wide, and let out an excited little gasp when she read them allowed.
"Dingoes Ate My Baby!" she screeched, practically jumping in place. "Oh, my god! I love Dingoes!"
"I remember. Cordelia got in a bit of a tiff with the lead singer, so she gave them away," he explained, pleased with her reaction.
"Cordelia was dating Devon?!"
"So she says."
Buffy continued to stare at the two treasures, almost unbelievingly. She had been in love with the band since junior high. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect to have a chance to see them live.
"It's actually this Thrusday," he continued. "I'll try to talk your mum into letting you go. I was thinking we could go together, but, uh, you're welcome to take Red or that whelp if you'd like."
"Of course I'll go with you! This is amazing!" She then threw her arms around his neck, embracing him tightly. "Thank you so much."
Spike swallowed, lightly holding her to him. When she finally pulled back, her face was practically glowing.
"Well, uh, I better get to class," he told her. "Don't wanna be late."
"Right. I'll see you in computers then?"
"Yeah, see you then. Later, Summers."
He then turned and walked off, leaving a giddy Buffy behind.
~~~
"Ahhh! Wills! I can't believe it!" Buffy squealed into the telephone receiver that evening.
"It is pretty awesome! I've always wanted to meet that Oz guy..."
"I just can't believe it!" she repeated. "A Dingoes concert!"
"Is your mom really gonna let you go?"
"Oh, she better. Spike's on his way for tutoring and he says he's gonna talk to her. And Mom loves Spike, so she's sure to give."
"Wow, Buffy. This is like your best day ever! Riley invited you to a cool party, you totally aced your chem exam, and now the Dingoes. Would you be mad if I said I was a little jealous?"
"Aww, don't be jealous, Willow! I promise to take pics. And buy you a t-shirt!"
"Yay!"
Just then the doorbell rang and Buffy leaped off her bed.
"He's here! I'll call you back!" the blonde exclaimed.
"Good luck!"
"Thanks! Bye!"
She then hung up and raced down her staircase. When she whipped open the front door, Spike was standing there soaking wet. She didn't even realize it was raining out.
"Yikes. Poor soggy Spike..."
The leather clad teen sulked inside, taking off his boots and tossing his backback to the side. He then shook his head, sending water droplets every which way.
"Hey! Watch it!" Buffy cried, taking a step back from the human sprinkler.
"Honey? Is that Spike?" she heard her mother ask from the kitchen.
"Yeah, Mom. He's here."
"Wonderful! Dinner's almost ready."
Buffy sighed and hung up Spike's duster on the nearby coat rack.
"I'm stayin' for supper?" he wondered.
"Guess so. Mom's making her infamous lasagna surprise. It's pretty gross, so if she asks how it is, just smile and nod."
He chuckled and followed the young girl up the stairs and into her room to study. After about a half an hour passed, Joyce finally called them down for supper.
"Ooh, cookies," Buffy smiled, reaching for the chocolately morsels.
Joyce slapped her hand away.
"For dessert. Now go wash up."
It wasn't long before they were situated at the dining room table, and Spike was staring at his plate with a doubtful expression. He didn't remember lasagna looking like that. Nevertheless, he took a hesitant bite anyway. And immediately regretted it.
"So, how do you like it?" the eldest Summers asked.
"Oh, it's..." He glanced over at Buffy to see her over enthusiastically smiling and nodding. "Very good," he finally choked out.
Joyce beamed.
"So, Buffy tells me you wanted to talk to me about something," she continued, taking a sip of her iced tea.
"Uh, right."
He set his fork down, thankful for the excuse to not eat.
"Well, you see... there's this concert," he explained. "Buffy's always taken an interest in the band and I thought it would be good for her to get out."
"What band would this be?"
"Dingoes Ate My Baby," Buffy piped in, with a hopeful smile.
"Oh, Buffy, I don't know. That sounds a bit... canibalistic."
"It's so not!" she insisted.
"Well, when is it? And who's going?"
"I'll be takin' her, Ms. Summers, if you don't mind," Spike told her. "And the concert's Thursday evening."
"A school night!"
"Mom!"
"Buffy, you know better than to stay out late on a school night," Joyce reprimanded.
"But it won't be that late! Only midnight or so..."
"Buffy!"
"Mom, please!"
Joyce sighed. Buffy stared at her, eyes wide with fear, and Spike began to force down fork fulls of the dreadful Italian mush. It was practically dead silent for a few more moments, until Joyce finally spoke.
"Alright, Buffy. If you stay with Spike at all times and are home by 11:30, you can go."
Buffy jumped out of her chair so fast, it fell backwards.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she squealed in delight, kissing her mom on the cheek. "We'll totally be home by 11:30. You're the best!"
"I try..."
Buffy flashed Spike a contagious grin, eventually sitting herself back down at the table across from him.
Spike smiled back, unnerved by how relieved Joyce's verdict made him. He knew he was developing some sort of feelings for the impossible blonde, but he still wasn't sure what they were. Friendship? Respect?
His tongue darted out to lick his lips when she leaned over to take a sip of her milk, and the swells of her breasts peeked out above her tank top.
Lust?
He sighed and tried to force back the disconcerting thoughts. Just because he wanted her, it didn't mean anything. She was attractive. He was a guy. Enough said. And the fact that her smile was enough to turn him into a puddle was completely beside the point.
Besides, she would never return his feelings. She was too wrapped up in the thought of being Riley Finn's girl of the week. And he did spend a good portion of his life making her miserable. Hell, he didn't deserve anything from her.
So it was settled. He didn't like her, she didn't like him. Nothing other than friendship would ever develop between them.
He glanced up at her and she smiled at him.
"Bloody hell," he cursed under his breath, and stood up to put his dishes in the sink.