MOXIE: maria@themorpeths.freeserve.co.uk

Summary: Buffy's an exchange student at an English university where Spike's doing a PhD. There's a knight in shining armour, a damsel in distress, a naughty leather top, some really bad driving, stockings, a major misunderstanding, poetry, some matchmaking, a romantic weekend (with more stockings and poetry), cosy country pubs, major angst and a big romantic finish. You need to read it really. Oh, and Xander and Willow are there too, along with crazy Dru.

Rating: R

Disclaimer: All characters from BtVS and AtS are the property of ME, Fox and Joss Whedon.

Prologue

~ * ~

Somewhere outside an English University.

Xander Harris had just had a vision. He shaded his eyes and watched as her sunlit form moved gracefully across the quad. Long blonde hair floated around perfect facial features like a veil. Skirts swirled around shapely legs. Exquisite breasts strained against a skimpy top. And he was in love.

~*~*~*~*~

Chapter One

~ * ~

Five minutes later.

"So, did you get all that Xan?"

"Uh yeah." Xander looked down at his friend who was lying full length on the grass, an open notebook resting on his stomach. "What?"

"The vampire, do you think he should look like me?"

"Vampire...what vampire?" Xander turned his attention back to the vision. That top, it was only just decent. Which was good. He willed her to come closer..

His friend flipped himself effortlessly into a sitting position. "The vampire in the computer game we are supposed to be writing." He waved his hand in front of Xander's face. "Hello, anyone home?"

Xander snapped out of his trance. "Oh, that vampire. A Billy Idol wannabe. Give me a break Spike. Who's that going to scare? Except for your mother. Do you think I should go help her?"

"You need to help my mother?"

"No, you prat." Xander looked around. "What, is she here?"

"Xan," Spike snapped his notebook shut, "what makes me think I've been talking to myself for the last ten minutes?"

"That my friend." Xander made a grand gesture towards the vision who was now engaged in picking up the books she had dropped. Her shapely backside wiggled enticingly as the two men stared in appreciation. Of course the fact that the sunlight had rendered her skirt virtually see-through was helping their powers of concentration enormously.

Spike whistled softly. "Verrry shaggable." He caught Xander's look and shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose."

Xander gave him a shove which knocked him flat. "You are talking," he placed a hand over his heart, "about the woman I love. So watch your mouth."

The vision had retrieved her books and had them balanced precariously under one arm. She was lowering herself gingerly and groping for her bag. Xander started to get up but Spike pulled him down.

"Hey, let go. I need to carry that bag. Throw my coat down in a puddle or something"

"You should go throw yourself in a puddle." Spike sat up again. "A very cold one. Now put your tongue back in, wipe the drool off and give some attention to this game. " He reached for the notebook. "We have a schedule here that doesn't involve getting your knickers in a twist over American exchange students." He stole another glance at the girl's retreating form. "No matter how shaggable she is."

Xander sighed as she disappeared into one of the grand old buildings surrounding the quad. "She looked a real lady, didn't she? All prim and posh. All virginal and just waiting for..."

"Americans don't do posh." Spike slapped the notebook into Xander's lap, causing him to yelp. "And believe me. She's no virgin."

"And you'd know because?" Xander looked round suddenly. "Oh- my- god, you haven't...." He caught Spike's grin. "Okay, winding me up here. But you do know her right? You said she was American."

"Yeah. Don't exactly know her. Seen her around is all. Think she was at one of my seminars, don't rightly remember."

"Spike, I'm going to marry this girl. I'll need a bit more to go on than that."

Spike stretched his arms over his head and stood up. "This is a dead loss, I need some coffee to kick start me. You coming?"

Xander jumped up. "I need names, places, come on, spill."

"God, you're a pain in the ass Xan. All-right, she's got this weird name. Buff-something. Her daddy is stinking rich and endowed the library with a pile of books in exchange for his little rich girl to spend a year studying here."

Xander rubbed his hands together. "It just gets better and better." He put an arm around Spike's shoulders as they strolled along the path. Spike knocked it off. "Would you quit that. People are going to start to talk."

But Xander wasn't going to be put off. "And she's in the English department right?"

"Yeah. Got a thing for romantic poets, so I hear." This time Spike managed to keep a straight face.

"Romantic poetry, but isn't that what your PhD is... Okay." Xander stopped walking. "Time to point out two things my friend."

Spike pushed open the door to the cafeteria and tilted his head to one side. "And that would be?"

"Numero one." Xander held up a finger. "You are so dating my sweet sister. Drusilla, remember her? So you," he pointed at Spike and shook his head, "not available. And two, I saw her first."

"Well technically I saw her..."

Xander didn't let Spike finish. He pushed him through the door, and gave him a cheesy grin. "So you, my man-in the-know, are going to get me a date with that girl."

Buffy Summers picked up the wine bottle and frowned. "This won't do Willow. It's still half full."

"Or half empty." Her friend covered the top of her glass with her hand. "No more Buffy, the room's starting to go all spinny and I..I'm not used to drinking, and..."

"And what? Come on Willow, I thought we were here to have fun." She'd met Willow at the university American Society, and even though Buffy thought she was a bit on the nerdy side, they'd been firm friends ever since. Buffy moved her hand and splashed wine into the glass. "Oops." She collapsed in a fit of giggles. "Hey, perhaps that nice waiter will come and wipe it up for us. Waiter..."

"Shh. He'll hear us." Willow looked mortified, then she hiccuped loudly. That set the giggles off again and earned them a disapproving glance from an old woman at the next table.

"That's the idea, birdbrain." She leaned out for a better view of him and nearly fell off her chair. "Hey, he looks a lot cuter after a glass or two, doesn't he?

Willow nodded and picked up the menu. She gave a strangled shriek and dropped it again. "Buffy have you seen these prices? I can't afford to eat here." She looked mortified. "I can just about buy a burger and fries.." Then she brightened. "But burger and fries are good, right?"

"Let me see that." Buffy snatched the menu from her and scanned it. "No problem." She flipped it down on to the table. "I'll pay."

"Oh no Buffy, I couldn't let you do that."

"No big." She fished into her purse and brought out a gold credit card. "See."

"No I couldn't." Willow's face reddened. "My folks aren't rich like yours. The whole family's helping to pay for my year in England and, well, I've just got to be careful."

"Then let me pay." Buffy poured herself another drink and stared at the glass, momentarily sober. "What's the most exciting thing you've ever done Will?"

"Me?" Willow thought for a moment and then she thought some more. "Well, coming to England by myself. That's exciting right?"

"I know Will." Buffy took a sip of her wine and then raised the glass and drained it. "But have you ever done anything, you know, really naughty?" She looked up and saw Willow's face go red again. She leaned forwards excitedly. "You have, haven't you, go on, tell me."

Willow gave her a sheepish grin. "Only if you do." She took a gulp of her wine. "Deal?"

Buffy nodded.

"Well," Willow began. "When I was in fourth grade, I was out shopping with my mom and," she leaned forward and whispered, "I stole a packet of balloons from a toy store."

"Oh" Buffy flopped back in her chair. "Is that it?"

"They were nice balloons, you know. With big mouse ears and cute little noses." Willow's face took on a dreamy expression as she remembered, then she looked up at Buffy. "That's not what you meant is it?"

"Not really. "Buffy started to fold her napkin into neat pleats. "Do you know what my dark secret is?" She inspected the napkin for a moment and threw it down onto the table. "I haven't got one. That's what it is. I'm a convent girl through and through and when I get back to the States I'll be expected to marry an appropriately rich guy, and raise a nice family of kids. Do you know how long I had to plead with my father just to let me come to England?" She pushed Willow's glass at her. "Look at us Will. Sensible hair, sensible shoes, sensible lives. Don't you want to really live a little?" She pushed her chair back and stood up, warming to her subject. "Well now we've got the chance. Drink up Will, never mind lunch. You and me are going to put daddy's credit card through it's paces and when we hit that club tonight, no-one's going to recognise us."

Chapter 2

~ * ~

Buffy wanted a big hole to open right in front of her and swallow her up. Why on earth had she though that this would be a good idea? "It's no good Willow, I've got to go." She tugged at her leather bustier. She'd been right, it was too small. "Everyone's staring at me."

Willow grabbed her arm and spoke through gritted teeth. "You are not leaving me by myself. This was your idea, remember? Besides, if I fall off these shoes you are going to have to drive me to the hospital. And no one's staring at us. Heck, nobody's even asked us to dance yet. "

Buffy groaned. Lunchtime and drinking. Definitely not mixy. After they'd finished the bottle of wine a visit to a very much ruder-version of Victoria's Secret had seemed perfectly reasonable. She remembered how they'd laughed till they cried as they tried on the merchandise. Willow's face had gone the colour of her hair when the owner had casually observed that she was a natural redhead after all. Perhaps the University club hadn't been the best place to try out their new images. Most of the students were dressed casually in jeans and tee shirts. There probably was a club that catered for the way they were dressed. But this wasn't it.

"Come on Buffy." Willow tugged her on to the dance floor. It was heaving with students dancing energetically to the pulsing music. "I like this one. Let's show them what we're made of."

"If this top falls down any more then everyone will see exactly what I'm made of. I can't dance if it's going to keep trying to fall off."

"Well at least I talked you out of the peephole bra."

"Oh, and you didn't want the crotchless panties?"

"Oh my god, I can't believe I actually tried them on." Willow's face had gone decidedly pink. "When that shop assistant walked in, I nearly died."

They both exploded with laughter. Buffy leaned across to the table to retrieve her beer. She took a deep swig. She closed her eyes as the effect of the alcohol kicked in. "What, are we a couple of nuns? Oh no. No more Miss Prim and Proper. Buffy wants. Buffy gets. We eat 'em up, then spit 'em out." She flung her hair back and held out her hand to Willow. "Girl Power."

Willow high-fived her, wobbled dangerously, then grabbed her around the waist to stop herself falling. She looked up at Buffy. "I don't think this is going to work."

~*~*~*~*~

"Oh my god, she's a lesbian."

Spike shrugged out of his long leather coat. He threw it across a chair and flopped down next to Xander. "There's a lesbian now? I thought we were here to spy on Buffy."

"We are . . . I mean no, that makes me sound like a stalker." Xander pointed into the heaving mass of people. "She's with a woman. Look, they're practically snogging."

Spike looked. It was all a bit soft focus without his glasses and he didn't like wearing his contacts in the smoky club atmosphere. What he could see definitely made his heart skip a few beats. "Whoa, check out the gear. Told you she wasn't a virgin."

Xander's face fell. "It's not funny. She was supposed to be having my babies," he grabbed his beer glass and took a long swig. "Not hers."

"Come on Xan." Spike was used to his friend's amateur dramatics. "She is not a lesbian, believe me. Women are just a bit more, you know, er, tactile with each other."

Xander cheered up a little. "I like the sound of that." He leaned towards Spike. "So this is how it works. You go over there and introduce me and..."

"Whoa." Spike lifted both hands. "No way, I've done my bit. Got you the names and places. Your turn now, mate." He looked back over at Buffy, who was now dancing with a man who looked like an entire rugby team rolled into one. He well over six feet tall and at least twice her width. She didn't look comfortable with it at all. Spike suddenly felt inexplicably annoyed with her. What the hell was she doing wearing that ridiculous top? It made her look like a strip-o-gram. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. Then took a long drag, wondering why he cared. Let her make a fool of herself if she liked. It was a free country after all.

~*~*~*~*~

The song ended. Buffy had never felt so relieved. She'd been clamped to a sweaty chest for what seemed like an eternity and was getting a stiff neck. She smiled sweetly at the enormous man standing in front of her and pointed towards what she hoped was the ladies bathroom. "Gotta go," she mouthed.

He leaned into her and fanned her with his beer breath. "Not leaving already?" His hand made its way up her arm and started across the top of her breasts. "The night is still young and," he grinned, "I haven't shown you my Tom Jones impression yet." He wiggled his hips suggestively, and tried to press himself against her.

"Willow!" Buffy's voice came out as a high-pitched squeak She slapped her partner's hand away and looked round for her friend. She was just about visible, hemmed in between three equally burly Neanderthal -types who were trying to impress her with their bump-and -grind routine. She looked terrified. The entire university rugby team had in fact just arrived at the club, very drunk and looking for action. They'd made a beeline straight for the girls and were showing no signs of moving on. It had seemed flattering at first, but the situation was rapidly getting out of hand. They seemed to be having a competition to see who could unlace Buffy's top first and everyone of them possessed at least eight hands.

She pushed her way between them and grabbed Willow's arm. "I need to pee. Come on."

"Hey." One of Willow's partners started clapping his hands together in a slow, steady rhythm which was soon taken up by the rest of the group. They circled around the girls, blocking their escape. "The floor show's arrived. Get 'em off girls."

Willow nearly collapsed on the spot. Buffy held on to her, looking around for help, but no one seemed about to interfere. A few students stopped what they were doing and looked on with amusement, but this kind of behaviour seemed par for the course. They were trapped. Buffy stared helplessly at the leering, hulking, group.

"What's a floor show, Buffy?" Willow's voice had gone decidedly wobbly.

"It's, well it's"...Buffy caught sight of her former dance partner. He was leaning up against a pillar, a lazy, amused look on his face. It was almost a challenge.

"It's this." Buffy stepped away from Willow and slowly raised her arms above her head. She brought them down slowly amidst much clapping and cheering. Then she slid her hands down the sides of her short leather skirt, leaned forward and wiggled her chest. The men went wild. One of them started up with the stripper theme music and they all joined in. Willow's eyes were wide as saucers.

"Okay, okay." Buffy had to shout to be heard above the din. "Calm down boys. We just need to go do what girls do." She winked. "But we'll be back real soon." She took Willow's arm again as the sea of men parted for her. "So keep it hot."

A round of cheering and whistles started up again and for one moment Buffy didn't think they were going to be allowed to leave, but they made it to the door in one piece. She took a quick look back and noticed her former partner still standing by the post, watching her. What she didn't see was the young man on the other side of the room choking on his beer.

They raced to the bathroom as fast as their six inch heels would allow. Buffy leaned against the wall, closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. She was rapidly coming down from the adrenaline high that her little escapade had induced. It had been scary, but there had been one moment when she'd felt real power. Something she'd never felt before. All eyes had been on her. They all wanted, well . . . her. And for a split second, she'd had them in the palm of her hand.

"Oh, Buffy. I thought you were going to..." Willow was staring at her, wide-eyed as if she couldn't quite believe what she'd seen. "What came over you?"

"I don't know Will. That guy. He was looking at me like... Well I just wanted to prove him wrong." She walked over to the mirror and almost didn't recognise herself. Too much make-up, too little clothing. Her dad would have a fit if he saw her now. He'd finally caved in on the year abroad but he wasn't happy about it. From the way he'd talked you'd have thought England was inhabited by barbarians. But once he'd seen how determined she was, he'd insisted on paving the way for her by giving large amounts of cash to the faculty, buying her a house, a car and topping it off with a generous living allowance. She loved him to pieces, but he'd never understood her need for independence. She was nineteen and he still treated her like a little girl. Thought money could buy him her love. Silly man. Didn't he know she loved him anyway? She splashed her still-flushed face with water and patted it dry with a paper towel. All the bravado had gone and large amounts of regret and embarrassment were now descending on her like a ton of bricks. She'd never be able to show her face in here again. "Come on Will." She picked up her bag. "It's time for operation get-us-home-in-one-piece."

The bathroom door opened and Buffy peered round. "Coast's clear, come on. Are you okay to drive?"

Willow nodded. "I hardly touched my beer. You?"

"Yeah, I didn't finish mine either. Oh crap, I've left my jacket on the chair." She scanned the room, looking for the table they'd been sitting at. The rugby players seemed to have lost interest in them and had broken up into groups. Some were standing around drinking, while a few of them were giving another set of girls a hard time. "Look, you go." She could see that Willow was dying to leave. "I might just be able to grab it and get out without them seeing me."

"But the floor show. You wouldn't..." Willow was in full concerned mode now.

"No, of course not. Look, I'm in serious denial here, with the blushing and everything. That is so never going to happen again."

Willow gave her a hug. "So it's back to the nun's costumes then?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna make my daddy proud."

"And you'll go straight home?"

"Actually I was going to invite the whole rugby team round for a private orgy, that's why I'm trying to get rid of you. So go already."

She pushed Willow through the door. "Call you tomorrow. And give some thought to my offer, you know, about moving in with me."

"Will do." Willow didn't look too sure. "Bye Buffy."

She tottered toward the exit, stopped to take off her shoes and disappeared through the doors. Buffy watched till she was out of sight. She hoped she hadn't scared her off with her antics tonight. Willow seemed a nice girl and having a fellow American around really helped with the homesickness thing. Now all she had to do was find her jacket and get herself out.

She sidled round the door and scanned the room. Then she felt a hand cup her bottom and squeeze.

"I've been waiting for you darling."

~*~*~*~*~

Spike had just about had enough of Xander. He'd spent the whole evening moaning about his lack of a love life and had nearly twisted his head off trying to keep tabs on Buffy and the redhead. And now he was more than a little drunk

"It's Michael Angellus. You know, rugby captain." Xander drained his glass "That thing she was dancing with. And then there was the wiggling and the arms." He dropped his head to the table and banged his forehead on it. "She'll never look at me now. He'll kill me if I go near her."

Spike took the empty glass out of his hand. "You, my man, need to go home." He looked at his watch. "It doesn't look as if Dru is going to show. Look, I'll call you a cab and give Dru a ring. See where she's got to. Did you call by home tonight?"

"What did I do wrong Spike?" Xander gave him his puppy dog look. "Is it the hair? Cause," he burped loudly, "you'd tell me if it was, wouldn't you? Best friend and all that."

Spike picked up his coat and gave Xander a push. "Door's that way. Oh and the car keys?"

Xander took out his keys and dropped them into Spike's hand. "Be good to her. She's all I've got."

"I'm walking mate," Spike pocketed the keys as they made their way through the crowd. Just wanted to make sure." He glanced back as they got to the door. "Looks like the girls have split. Pity. It looked like it was going to be quite a show."

Xander gave an anguished wail. "They're probably having hot, sweaty threesomes, foursomes, even as I speak. Maybe the whole rugby team. Oh bugger." He clamped a hand to his mouth and shot through the door.

Spike phoned for a cab while Xander threw his guts up in the car park.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy slapped Angeles's hand away. She tried to be business-like but it was difficult when you were wearing your underwear on the outside. "I think you've had too many..."

"Looking for this love?" He held up her jacket. "Shame to cover up such a great pair of tits though."

"Okay buster." Buffy snatched it and backed off. "The show's over." She turned and walked away with as much dignity as she could muster, relieved that he hadn't immediately tried to follow her. What a jerk. And how could she complain after what she'd done? She threw open the door and walked out into the dark, welcoming the cool night air on her face. She got the feeling that this year was going to be a learning experience in more ways than one. The still night was interrupted only by the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up. "Ugh, gross." She slipped into her jacket and scanned the car park for her car.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike steered Xander away from the remains of his night out and pushed him down into a sitting position. He sat down at the kerb beside him. "Taxi'll be here in a minute."

Xander slumped forward, his head in his hands. "God, kill me now mate." He shook his head. "Could I be a bigger wanker?"

Spike reached for his packet of cigarettes and took one out. "'Fraid not mate. He found his lighter and flicked it several times. Bugger, it was out of fuel. He put the cigarette back into the packet. He really needed to give up smoking, but not yet. It wasn't a good time.

"So what's the deal with Dru then?"

Xander shook his head but didn't look up. "Dunno. Called by home to pick her up. Mum said she hadn't got home from college yet. They're pretty mad at you."

Spike snorted. "So tell me something new." He stared up into the sky. "I'm worried about her."

Xander looked up. He still looked very green. "We all are. Look Spike. She's my sister and all that, but I'm with you on this one. Dru can be, well you know, she's always been..."

"Yeah mate." Spike stood up as the taxi approached. "I just wish you'd told me sooner."

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy clicked the remote lock on her key fob. The smart red car answered her with a series of beeps and flashing lights. It was a beauty. Sporty and low slung and much too powerful for her. She hadn't been the world's best driver in the States and having to contend with driving on the wrong side of the road had given her more than a few hair-raising moments. She'd found it waiting on the drive of the house her father had bought for her and she had to admit that it was love at first sight. As she wound her way through the parked cars, she was aware of a car accelerating away and she saw that one of the men was still by the building, talking on his phone. She quickened her pace. It was too quiet and too dark. She looked back at him but he didn't seem to have seen her. She suddenly very badly wanted to be inside her car with the doors locked. And tomorrow morning that outrageously expensive leather thing was going straight into one of those charity bags she kept finding on the doorstep. She smiled as she tried to imagine who on earth it could be donated to. Not Help the Aged that was for sure. Then she heard a cough. Her hand froze on the door handle. Someone was standing right behind her.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike had finally got hold of Dru's mother. He'd lost interest in the conversation just past the bit where Dru had turned up safe and sound and was now asleep in her bed. No thanks to him of course. He held the phone away from his ear as she droned through her usual litany of veiled threats and accusations. His hair for god's sake. What did that have to do with anything? He snapped the phone shut. Silly cow. Dru was anything but her little girl. Hadn't been that for a long while. The chirping of a car's remote locking distracted him and he looked up to see Buffy making her way towards it. He'd noticed that she'd been pretty agitated when she'd come out of the club, but he'd been too preoccupied with Xander to pay too much attention. A wave of laughter and music floated through the air as the club door opened and closed and a lone figure exited. Spike put his phone in his pocket and leaned against the wall. No harm in making sure she got off safely. For all her bravado in the club, she had an air of real naiveté about her. But bloody hell, she'd looked hot in that top.

Fuck. He suddenly recognised the dark-haired man who'd just come out of the club. And who was now making his way across the car park towards her. Spike watched him for a moment then started after him. He was just in the mood for a fight.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy turned around slowly. She twisted her keys so that they were pointing upwards in her hand, but she had no idea if she could really bring herself to poke someone in the eye with them as she'd been taught. It had all looked so easy in self-defence class.

"Oh, it's you." She slid the hand with the keys behind her back. "Wha..." He was carrying a bottle of champagne. She cleared her throat, and tried again. "Do you want something?"

He nodded towards her car. "Nice wheels."

Buffy backed up to the car, groping for the door handle. "Uh, yeah." Perhaps she could jump in and drive away before he realised what she was doing. She looked at the bulging biceps, straining against his short-sleeved shirt. But then again, perhaps not.

"Actually I wanted to apologise."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She hadn't expected that.

"Yeah. I was a real jerk in there. Sort of required behaviour when you're a rugby player." He took a step towards her car and braced one arm on the roof. "So I was thinking that, maybe we could start again?"

"Er. I don't think so. You see I'm very tired and I really should be..." She tried to duck down but he brought his other arm up, effectively blocking her escape and giving her a hefty whiff of his armpits.

"This is hard for me you know." He leaned down and whispered close to her ear. "I don't usually do sorry. But for you," he waggled the champagne bottle, "I'm willing to make an exception. Want to finish that dance?"

"Hey!"

They both turned at the sound of the man's voice.

"Michael Angellus? Hey man, this is such an honour. Spike's the name. Can I have your autograph?"

Buffy's mouth fell open. Now they were being joined by the Angellus fan club? She peered round the rugby player's big body and recognised the man who'd been talking on the telephone. But he looked more familiar than that. She'd definitely seen that bleached-blond hair before.

Angellus turned slowly and placed his hands on his hips. "You being funny?"

"Well, yeah, I try. Is it working?" The blond was at least a head shorter than Angellus but he wasn't backing off. He nodded towards Buffy. "I think the lady wants to go home."

Angellus didn't move. "And I think you need to fuck off and mind your own business."

"Look." Spike began to move slowly towards Buffy. "We don't want any trouble." He looked directly at her. "This nice young lady is going to get in her car and take herself off home, aren't you?"

Buffy stared back at him. Byron. She remembered now. The seminar. She'd thought he looked hot then but up close... Those eyes, she couldn't quite make out the colour, and those cheekbones. And that hair. The way it stood up in wavy spikes. Wasn't that what he'd called himself?

"Buffy?" He tilted his head at the car. "Get in."

She didn't move.

"Please."

"Oh." She shook herself out of her reverie and scrambled for her keys. She looked back at him. It didn't seem fair to leave him at the mercy of the brute. "Can I give you a..."

"Ahem." Angellus coughed theatrically. "Am I talking to myself here?"

It was the shortest fight in history. Buffy hadn't even opened her car door when Angellus lunged at Spike. He sidestepped and Angellus spun round and brought the champagne bottle down hard on the side of Spike's head. Buffy watched, horrified, as Spike crumpled to the ground. Angellus aimed a kick at his side for good measure and Spike groaned and rolled over. Angellus turned to her, broken bottle in hand and her heart nearly stopped. He looked her up and down disdainfully and then threw the bottle aside, turned, and staggered away. Buffy's heart remembered to beat again and she flew over to Spike and dropped to her knees. He was swearing profusely, blood dripping through his clenched fingers. She tentatively reached out a hand and he stilled and opened his eyes.

They were blue and full of pain and it was her fault.

He stared at her intently for a few heartbeats, and then he said, "Are you an angel?"

Chapter 3

~ * ~

The two angels floated in and out of focus and then slowly merged into one. Spike blinked several times to make sure he wasn't dreaming and then he realised that there was something wrong with his head. A warm, sticky substance was seeping through his fingers. Blood? His? What the hell was going on? He tried to sit up but the angel split into two again and they started dancing with each other, so he closed his eyes and lay down again. And they smelled of champagne. What the fuck was happening?

"Spikes?" Buffy crouched beside him, her hand hovering uselessly over his face. She didn't know what to do, and there was so much blood. "Spikes," are you okay?

He swore again and pressed his hands even tighter to the wound over his eye.

"Spikes, you've got to let me see how bad it is." She tried to disengage one of his hands but he wasn't having any of it. Hers came away slippery with blood. All right, sit up then." She slid an arm under his shoulders and tried to lever him up, her blood spattered fingers slipping on his leather coat. He wasn't helping at all. Didn't even seem to realise she was there. Just kept up his mantra of swear words with his eyes tight shut. She managed to get his head and shoulders off the ground but, what did she do with him now? The car park was deserted and she didn't want to leave him there. "Spikes," she said softly, "can you sit up?"

He opened his eyes at last and she breathed a sign of relief. He stared up at her, a mystified expression on his face, and then he craned his neck to look around. "Did I fall asleep?"

"No, he hit you." Buffy shifted his head into her lap, the rough concrete tearing at her knees through her very expensive and now ruined stockings. "Remember Angellus?"

Spike grimaced. This time he accepted Buffy's help and she managed to lean him against the side of her car. She fished in her bag and brought out a wad of tissues. Then she gently took the hand that was still holding the wound. "Let me see it Spikes."

God he was strong, and he wasn't letting go.

"Wanker." He twisted away from her. "Ow, that bloody hurts." He took the tissues out of her hand and pressed them to his head, bending forward with a groan and sending droplets of champagne dripping off his gelled hair.

Buffy sat back on her heels. He'd called her a wanker. She didn't know what it meant but it didn't sound good. And she'd only been trying to help him. Well, actually she'd been the cause of his unfortunate situation but she hadn't asked him to come to her defence, although she was glad that he had. The shock of it all suddenly hit her and she felt her face crumpling. She pointed vaguely in the direction of the club and started to get up. "Going for help. You just..."

He gripped her wrist. "No, don't do that." He let out a long breath. "Made enough of a prat of myself as it is. Is that wanker still around?"

"Oh." She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. Angellus was the wanker, whatever it meant. "He's gone. Can you stand?"

"Think so." He leaned onto her shoulder and pushed himself up, grabbing onto the car for support.

"I think I should get someone." Even in the dim light she could see that he'd gone very pale.

"I told you no. I'll be fine." He swayed and then righted himself. "See? Well, Buffy-from-America," he screwed up his eyes and looked at her intently, "are you crying?" Then he shook his head. "Now what was I....?" He frowned and then held out his hand. He took hers and shook it. "Thank you for a lovely evening. We must... Umm..." He pointed vaguely across the car park. "We really must ... You know, with the angel thingy..." He nodded at her as if she should know what he was talking about. "I'll just be going then." Then he turned on his heels and walked unsteadily away.

"Spikes." She started after him. "You're in no fit state to..."

"Not today love." He lifted an arm in salute and kept right on walking.

"Wait." She couldn't leave him like this. He wasn't making any sense. "You need to get to a hospital or something." He didn't show any signs of having heard her. Then she suddenly remembered her car. "Wait Spikes, I'll take you." She ran to it and opened the door. The steering wheel had disappeared. Then she spotted it on the other side of the car. Damn, if that didn't get her every time. She slammed the door and raced round to the other side, slipped off her heels and slid into the driver's seat. She stared at the console, trying to remember where everything was. "Key, key." She patted her pockets and finally located it. By the time she'd got the car started and into drive, Spike had disappeared.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike stood at the corner of the car park. Right or left? Soddit, which way was home? He decided on the right. It looked vaguely familiar. His legs felt a little rubbery but the bleeding had slowed. He dropped the bloodstained tissues and searched his coat pocket for a fresh one. He didn't have any, so he bent down to pick up the discarded ones. Whoa. He swayed dangerously. Bad idea. And that was when he saw the car. A red, bullet shaped thing coming right at him. He took two seconds to register that it was Buffy driving and she wasn't about to stop, then he flung himself against the wall. As the car shot past him, he caught a glimpse of Buffy's surprised face, and heard the squealing of brakes. The rear end of the car spun round in a screech of burning rubber and the door shot open. He placed one hand over his rapidly-beating heart and sucked in a series of desperate breaths. As Buffy ran towards him, he wondered how many more times she was going to try and kill him tonight?

~*~*~*~*~

Unfortunately, there was one - she insisted on driving him home.

"Left, left." He wrenched at the wheel. "We drive on the left in this country."

Buffy gave him an apologetic smile. "Oops"

"Look at the road you stupid..."

"Don't call me a wanker." Buffy took her eyes off the road again. There wasn't much traffic, but so far she had managed to drive the wrong way up a one way street and almost sideswiped a double-decker bus. And it didn't seem to worry her at all. She'd waved pleasantly back at the driver, obviously mistaking the gesture he'd made at her. Spike prayed that they didn't meet any old ladies on pedestrian crossings as he didn't hold out much hope for their survival.

"Because you know, it doesn't sound very nice." She jammed her foot on the brake as they came to a red light.

Spike flew forward against his seat belt and then slammed back into the seat. "Christ, woman. You've got to be the worst bloody driver I've ever met."

"Oh no." The car shot away as the lights turned green, "You obviously haven't met my cousin Tara," she said, pleasantly ignoring the insult. "Which way Spikes?"

"Over there to the right." He gave her a strange look. Where there two of him in the car? Because right now he wouldn't have been surprised by anything. He pointed to a small precinct of shops, "We need to find a late-night-chemist."

Buffy slowed the car and waited for a gap in the traffic. "A what?" She hadn't the faintest idea what he was talking about. "Is he like a doctor or something?

"It's not a he, it's a shop, you know, pharmacy, drugstore? We're probably going to need some of those butterfly things."

Buffy negotiated the turn and stopped in the entrance to the precinct. "Oh, butterfly bandages." She leaned forward and looked from right to left.

Spike looked at her expectantly. "You're not going to leave it here are you?"

"No of course not," she looked around again. "I was just looking for a space."

"In an empty car park? Just do it, for goodness sake." He lowered the wad of tissues and looked at them. "Ugh, better get some more of these as well. And some antiseptic." He twisted himself and took out a ten pound note from the back pocket of his jeans. "And gum, get some gum, you know, the spearmint not the peppermint. What?"

"I was just wondering if there was anything else." Buffy arched an eyebrow. "What with me being your personal shopper and all." She shook her head as she negotiated the car into a space. "I mean, you could at least say please."

"Oh, forgive me for bleeding to death in your car." He took her hand and stuffed the money into it, then inclined his head and spoke in a little-boy voice. "Please."

Buffy felt a momentary pang of guilt. He was the one hurt, after all. And that was one serious cut over his eye. She reached for the door handle and stopped.

"Look Spikes about the hospital thing, I really think you..."

"No, no, no." He ran a hand through his hair. "Christ, what does it take? Read my lips. I'm not going to any hospital." Look, just go and get the stuff. Then you can patch me up and take me home. And then, I'm going to crawl into my nice, warm bed and forget today ever happened."

"Okay, Mr grumpy, but don't blame me when you keel over with a concussion or die of blood poisoning, or," she thought for a moment. "Glass poisoning. Can you get glass poisoning?"

"Or, I might just die right here and now waiting for you to GET THE BLOODY STUFF."

"Which would serve you right," Buffy muttered as she got out of the car. "You just can't help some people. "She felt monumentally responsible for his current predicament and she was trying to put it right. Okay, she'd nearly run him over, but how could she be expected to see him if he insisted on standing in the middle of the road wearing black? All he seemed to want to do was get as far away from her as possible. It had taken all her powers of persuasion, which were usually considerable, to get him into the car and to agree to at least let her patch him up. She pulled back her seat and reached for her shoes, then she realised how badly torn her stockings were.

"Oh no, I can't go in there looking like this. I look like a streetwalker." She heard him mutter, "You said it mate..." and favoured him with a glare.

"You could always take them off."

"Huh. You wish." His sarcastic tone stung her. What if she took him up on his offer? That would wipe that smug, smile off his face. It was the same feeling that she'd had in the club. Perhaps she'd been possessed by the naughty leather top but she imagined herself lifting her leg over the steering wheel and sliding her hands up it until she reached her garter belt. Then she'd slowly unsnap it, all the while looking straight into his deep blue eyes and then she'd roll the stocking down her leg and wind it around his neck. Then she'd pull him in for a ... She swallowed hard, slipped on her shoes and fairly ran to the drugstore.

She picked up the antiseptic wipes and painkillers and a packet of butterfly bandages. Then she put the butterfly bandages back. She already had these at her house. There was no sense in buying more. He hadn't asked to go to her house, of course but she didn't stop to question her motivation further. She queued behind a gang of teenagers who all seemed to be buying condoms and then made her way back to the car. She half expected to find it empty and really hoped that she wouldn't.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike had contemplated running away. Or rather staggering away. The world had stopped spinning somewhat and he was thinking a bit more clearly but, despite his fear of hospitals, he knew that his wound needed looking at. He only hoped that her nursing skills were better than her driving. He leaned back into the leather seat and tried not to think about Buffy in a nurse's uniform with streetwalker stockings. He hadn't thought about Dru once.

Chapter 4

~ * ~

It was a short drive back to Buffy’s house. As she negotiated the corner of the road where she lived. She caught the look of mild surprise that crossed Spike’s face.

“This isn’t the way, Buffy, I said left back there.”

“I know,” she said, as casually as she could manage. “The shop was out of butterfly bandages, but I’ve got some at home. You don’t mind if we fetch them do you?”

“So, you’re adding kidnapping to your crimes now?” The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he was trying to stop himself smiling.

Buffy felt herself reddening. She had practically kidnapped him, but he needed looking after -right? And she was saving him money, she rationalised. Which was a good thing wasn’t it? She pulled up into her driveway and waited for the garage door to open. “Look, you don’t have to get out of the car.” She could see he was tired. I’ll only be a moment.”

“Relax Buffy, I don’t mind.” He sighed wearily. “Look, I’m sorry I shouted at you back there. Just get the job done. Don’t mind where.”

“So,” she opened the car door, “ You’re coming in then?”

He nodded and reached for his door handle.

She felt a little twinge of apprehension as she punched in the code on the keypad entry. Why was she suddenly so nervous? She’d been alone with a man before. She jumped as Spike came up behind her. Could she really have taken her stockings off in front of him, the way she’d imagined. Would he have been shocked? And had he seen her do her little dance in the club? She stepped into the house and tried to quell the flock of butterflies that were gradually taking up residence in her stomach. Maybe she should have bought the bandages after all?

“Nice place.”

“Yes, it’s umm, convenient." God, he was good looking.

He followed her into the kitchen and looked around. “But not what you’re used to, right?”

“Not exactly.” She started to take off her jacket, but remembered what she had on underneath, and pulled it closed again. “But it’s very nice. It’s only got two bathrooms but...” He was looking ready to drop. She really needed to get the job done and let him go home. “I should stop talking now and fix you up. Go through Spikes,” she pointed to the lounge. “I’ll just get the stuff.” As she climbed the stairs to the bathroom she tried to make a mental list of the things she was going to need from the medicine cabinet, but all she could think about were stockings.

~*~*~*~*~

It was like something out of Homes and Gardens. Well, at least, he imagined it was. He didn’t exactly read those sort of magazines. White leather sofas, glass topped tables, pretentious vases containing real flowers. He wondered idly if a boyfriend had sent them. A girl like her would have no shortage of admirers. And not just because she was stunning- looking. He was studying a silver-framed photo of a man and a young girl when Buffy came in carrying the medical supplies and a bowl of water. She put them down on the end table and walked over to look at it with him. “It’s me and daddy. At the house on the Cape.” A look of sadness flickered over her features. “That’s the year mom died.”

He put the photo down again. “Yeah, my mum’s gone too. Leaves a hole doesn’t it?”

They stood in silent contemplation for a moment and then he said, “Okay, where do you want me?”

~*~*~*~*~

Well, naked and in her bed would do for starters. Christ. Had she said that out loud? His expression hadn’t changed, so obviously not. She took a calming breath and indicated towards the sofa. “Let’s just get your coat off and sit you down, shall we?” She stepped forward to help him, taking the lapels and pulling it down over his shoulders, hoping he didn’t notice how much her hands were shaking. He twisted a little to help her and changed the hand holding the tissues to his head as she slid it away. A little tingle ran through her fingers as they brushed across his shoulders and trailed down his forearm. He wasn’t hugely muscled like Angellus but she could feel the power contained by the tight, black t-shirt And that little touch was all it took for the temperature in the room to suddenly soar.

Their eyes met and held for a moment. Green into blue. ‘Make a move Spikes,’ she thought, ‘I’m new at this, and I don’t know what to do.’ But he just stood there, watching her hand intently where it rested on his arm. Then he muttered a thank-you and flopped onto the couch. It made an extremely rude noise, as leather sofas are prone to do, and that started them both laughing.

Buffy felt the tension flow out of her and she realised how tired she was too. It had been a hell of an evening. She’d come close to making a complete fool of herself, nearly been attacked, and almost crashed the car. Together with the shock of seeing Spike hurt, she realised that she was running on pure instinct. Maybe that’s all this attraction was. Two people thrown together by a traumatic experience. She was feeling vulnerable, and he was an extremely desirable male. And he was here, in her house. Not the basis for making one of the most important decisions of her life. She’d always thought she’d know when the time came. There’d be roses, and moonlight and no doubt whatsoever that it was the right thing to do. Instead, she found herself wanting and doubting at the same time. She was here for a year. It seemed a long time, but she knew it would fly by. Before she knew it, she would be on a plane back to the States and her time in England would be just distant memories. She picked up the washcloth and wrung it out. But would they be mingled with regret?

~*~*~*~*~

Spike leaned forward as Buffy worked at cleaning the cut. It wasn’t a very comfortable position. He twisted, and then she couldn’t reach him, so she stood up and bent down to him. That gave him a wonderful view of her breasts straining at the laces of the top, where her jacket gaped open, which, in turn made him start to get very uncomfortable in the pants department. He turned his head so he couldn’t see them and she turned with him, practically shoving them in his face. The cut-cleaning hurt like the blazes, but he was in heaven and hell at the same time. Now she had one knee between his thighs, dangerously close to the source of his discomfort, and was virtually straddling his leg as she fixed the butterfly bandages in place. He squirmed again, scooting back into the couch, trying not to breath in her subtle perfume. Trying not notice the way she caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she concentrated. Trying not to enjoy the silky caress of her hair as it swept across his neck every time she leaned towards him, or the feel of her hand as she gripped his shoulder to steady herself. And definitely taking no notice whatsoever of the way her skirt rode up her thighs as she bent her leg, showing a glimpse of stocking top. He remembered the comment he’d made in the car about her taking them off and his heart started a slow, heavy thudding in his chest. He wanted her with every fibre of his being. And he knew he could never have her.

For the first time since the fight, he thought of Xander and Dru.

“I’m sorry, am I hurting you?” She turned her soft green-eyed gaze on him and it was so full of concern that he nearly melted there and then. “It’s just that this is such an awkward position. Perhaps if you lay down?”

That had given him a visual he could have done without. Him on his back, with her astride him, her hair brushing over his face. He swallowed hard as her knee slid in further. “Uh, Buffy. Do you think you could...” He pointed to her knee. “I need to...”

‘Put some distance between us before I do something I’m going to regret,’ he thought. He tried thinking of Dru, all long black hair and dangerously, dark eyes. Her wicked , red lips. But all he could see was golden hair, eyes that shone with a disarming innocence and pink, pearly lips that were begging to be kissed. Everything that was rational told him to step away from her and leave now. But he wasn’t listening. He placed his hands around her waist and hitched her up, so that she was sitting on his lap properly. She let out a small gasp of surprise and their eyes locked once again.

“There,” he said in a low husky voice. “Now at least one of us is comfy.” And that picture of Dru still wouldn’t come.

“Oh.” Two spots of rosy colour stained Buffy’s cheeks as she realised where her knee had been nestling so comfortably. She still had her arm on his shoulder, and his had somehow slipped around her back, the other one resting almost possessively across her thighs. She was suddenly intensively aware of him on so many levels it made her dizzy. The faint smell of tobacco and leather, and something else, fundamental and earthy. The way his bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top one. The unspoken question in his eyes, and that hand, firm and warm. She wanted him to slide it higher, burning her flesh as it swept towards the point of no return. She wanted him to take the stockings off her, one by one, slowly kissing her skin as he revealed it. This was that earth-stopping moment that they talked about in romantic novels, when time itself seemed to stand still and nothing mattered but the two of them. Buffy made her decision. There was no more doubt in her mind that this was what she wanted. He was what she wanted. His head make the tiniest move towards her, and her heart turned over with anticipation.

And then his phone rang.

Spike jumped so hard, he nearly dropped Buffy on the floor. She managed to grab him around the neck, slithering down his body as he stood up, and they sprang apart like two guilty schoolkids caught stealing cookies. Jesus Christ. He had a hard on that was threatening to bust his jeans and he’d just been about to kiss her. And it wouldn’t have stopped there. He fumbled in his coat pocket for his phone and jabbed the talk button. What the hell was he playing at? He was in love with Dru. Xander was his best friend. And he was one major, sodding, wanker for even thinking the thoughts he’d been having tonight. He was aware of Buffy hurrying out of the room with the medical supplies as Xander’s voice cut into his thoughts.

Buffy leaned on the kitchen counter as she fought to control her raging emotions. Damned phone! He’d been going to kiss her. She knew it. And she’d never wanted anything so much. She pressed her hands to her face in an effort to cool her hot cheeks. She was caught in a confusing whirl of emotions, still trapped in the erotic haze into which they’d slowly but surely been drawn. She needed to get back in there fast. Before he cooled down. She’d felt the fire in him and it had burned her too. ‘Seize the moment , girl,’ she commanded herself, and shakily she began to slip the jacket from her shoulders. She pulled at the laces of the leather top to loosen them, just a little, then she opened a cupboard and took out a bottle of wine. She found two glasses and a corkscrew, then she padded back to the lounge. If she didn’t make a move now she would regret it, so it was now or never. At the door, she stopped. He was still on the phone. Maybe it was his girlfriend? Her heart sank a little as the thought crossed her mind for the first time that evening. Of course a guy like him wouldn’t have a problem attracting women. She’d seen how popular his seminar had been, and the mostly female students weren’t only being drawn by Byron’s charms!

“No, Xan, I haven’t asked her yet.”

She started to open the door but he was still talking and she couldn’t help overhearing. She stood stock still, bottle and glasses in hand, as he continued.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m gonna do it. You wouldn’t believe what happened. I’m just worried she’ll say no.”

He was going to ask her out. She leaned closer to the door, her heart soaring. Had she heard him right? Silly man, she wasn’t going to say no.

He was still talking. “Yeah, had a skinful tonight. I’m off the booze too.”

Buffy looked at the wine bottle. Then she opened the coat-cupboard and stuffed it inside, along with the glasses. He didn’t want to drink, that was okay.

“Got a lecture in the morning, the prof’l freak. Look, I’ll do it, right. Then I’m going home before I drop.”

Buffy looked down at the leather top. Now wasn’t the time. But there would be others. Better to let him make the first move. The important thing was that he was going to ask her for a date. She wanted to run around the kitchen punching the air and shouting yes, then she heard him coming towards the door. There was a moment of panic as she realised that her jacket was on the kitchen floor, and she wasn’t going to get to it in time, so she jumped into the coat-cupboard and grabbed the first thing that came to hand.

“Buffy.” She heard him walk to the kitchen, then come out again. “Buffy?” He stopped right outside the coat -cupboard door.

Buffy held her breath. Anyway she played this it was going to look majorly weird. What possible excuse could she have for being inside a closet? ‘Oh, by he way I was listening in on your conversation, and I had to hide in here because I heard you coming?’ Well, that wasn’t an excuse as much as a reason. “Way to go girl. the man of your dreams is waiting to ask you out and you’re hiding in the coats. Nice one," she muttered to herself. And then she stepped back and lost her footing. She grabbed at the rack of coats and pitched over backwards in a clattering of coat-hangers. As the door slowly opened, Buffy lay in the mess of coats and hangers, wearing a full length fake-fur coat and wished for the second time that night that the earth would swallow her up.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike managed to keep his composure remarkably well. He was, in fact, rapidly reaching the stage where nothing she did surprised him any more. There was probably a perfectly logical explanation for her being inside a cupboard, but he couldn’t for the life of him think of one. And why was she wearing a fur coat? Not that she didn’t look good in it. In fact it was downright erotic, and the way things had been going tonight... He squashed the thought flat. ‘You can’t go there mate,’ he reminded himself, ’and Xander is bloody well going to owe me big-time for this one.’ “Ahh, there you are,” he said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. He hauled her out of the pile of coats and set her on her feet. “Buffy, I need to ask you something.”

~*~*~*~*~

She wouldn’t have pegged him as shy. He’d suddenly gone all hesitant on her. Couldn’t get the words out. She stood as nonchalantly as she could, given what she was wearing, not wanting to break the spell of this wonderful moment. The minute he was gone she just had to phone Willow. Then they’d have to find someone for her and they could have double dates and it would be perfect.

“So, what would you say if I told you I had this friend.”

He stopped again, as if he was choosing his words very carefully. She nodded in encouragement. Maybe he wasn’t quite the Romeo she’d thought he was. He seemed to be finding this very hard.

“This friend, right. He thinks you're umm, nice and was wondering if you’d, er, go on a date with him.” The last few words came out in a rush.

Buffy felt a lump forming in her throat. This was so sweet. She hugged her fur coat around herself. “This- friend, is he afraid I’ll say no?”

Spike let out a small, humourless laugh. “Something like that, and with him being a big coward and all that. What would you say Buffy?”

“I think I’d say yes. "She wanted to do the Snoopy dance around the kitchen. “And Spikes, tell your friend, not to worry. It’s okay, really it is.”

Spike didn’t look as happy as she thought he’d be. She’d never been out with an Englishman before. She knew the English tended to be more reserved than Americans so perhaps this was how it was over here? Anyhow, she didn’t care. He’d asked her out and she was ecstatic.

“Tomorrow?” He really looked glum now. Surely he hadn’t been that nervous? “About eight?”

“That would be great.” She noticed he was wearing his coat. “Spikes, let me drive you home.”

“No, no.” He lifted his hands. “Better if I just walk. More chance of living to see another day that way.”

“So, my driving was that bad, eh?” It was only friendly banter but what he’d said was true. “Perhaps you could give me a few lessons?” she said hopefully.

He put one hand on the front door handle. “I don’t think I’d be the best person to do that Buffy. And the name’s Spike. There’s only one of me.“

“Ah. But it’s not your real name, right?” She didn’t want him to go. A few moments ago they’d almost made love and now he looked like he couldn’t wait to get out of the house.

“No, it’s a nickname, my sister gave it to me and it kind of stuck.”

He stepped out into the damp, October night and they stood in awkward silence.

“Well...”

“What’s..”

They both started talking at once. Buffy shook her head. “No, you go first.”

“I just wanted to thank you for patching me up.” He touched his head lightly where she’d put the bandages. “You’d make a hell of a nurse. When you weren’t giving your patients near coronaries that is.”

“Oh, my driving. I’m so sorry about that. Maybe I should get some English driving lessons.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t talking about the driving. What were you going to say?”

“Oh, what’s your real name?”

Spike turned, and walked down the path with a backward wave of his hand. “Now that would be telling. Goodnight Buffy-from-America. Don’t forget tomorrow night.”

She waved back. As if she would. And what was with the name? Was it some embarrassing family name? She watched him until he was out of sight. From his earlier directions she knew that he only lived a few blocks away, but still, he should have let her take him home, stubborn man. She closed and locked the door, feeling sorely in need of some beauty sleep.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike opened the door to his basement flat. It was very basic, just a couple of rooms, but it had double doors that opened onto a little private patio and it suited him just fine. He threw off his clothes and crawled into his bed. Tomorrow he needed to ring Xander and tell him the good news, then he had to find out what Dru was up to. He didn’t relish either task, and he was still aching down below from his incredibly erotic encounter with Buffy. Tonight could have ended so differently. He was one hell of a noble wanker and Xander really did owe him big-time for this one.

Chapter 5

~ * ~

By seven-thirty the next evening, Buffy had been pampered to within an inch of her life. She’d rushed straight from her lecture to a local beauty salon, and had the full works: hair, nails, facial, the lot. Then she’d met Willow, and they’d spent the afternoon trying on clothes in outrageously expensive dress shops. Buffy had eventually chosen three separate outfits - just in case she changed her mind later. After a mad dash back to the university for a meeting with her tutor, Buffy had rushed home, and was now trying on the outfits in front of Willow.

“So, which one?” She appraised herself in the mirror. “Do you think the mauve is too much?” The swirly, flowery dress was a little too summery for an English October, but it set off her colouring perfectly. She’d managed to keep her California tan with the help of a sun-bed which she had in a spare room.

Willow lay on her stomach on Buffy’s bed. “Buffy, that’s the fourth time you’ve tried that on. If he’s worth freezing to death for, then wear it.” She turned the page of the book she was trying to read. “Did he say where you were going? ‘Cause that would be a clue.”

Buffy turned once more and picked up two pairs of sandals. “No, he didn’t say much at all, now, which shoes?” She waggled them in front of Willow’s face. “Hey, you’re not paying attention - again.”

Willow sat up, snapping her book shut. She folded her arms, and looked directly at Buffy. “Okay, so now I am.. Did you call him, Buffy? You know, to see if he's all right?” She pointed to the sandals on the right. “Those would look nice. Because it sounded pretty horrible.”

Buffy wriggled out of the dress and stood admiring her designer underwear. Just buying it had given her a delicious thrill. “It was Will.” She turned to inspect her back view. “He really should have gone to the hospital. But, you know, men are such babies.” She picked up the second dress. “He barely let me patch him up, but I had to practically kidnap him to do it.”

“You did what?” Willow looked at her curiously. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“Umm.” Buffy slipped the dress over her head. “He didn’t leave me his number, so I couldn’t call him, but he would have let me know if there was a problem, right?”

“No, about the kidnapping bit.” Willow leaned forward. “Did you bring him here?”

“Well, yes.” Buffy stood with her arms out in a ‘what do you think?’ sort of way. “Well.”

“Bra strap,” Willow observed. “And that was when he asked you out?”

Buffy twisted. “Oh crap, it is showing.” She lifted the hem and started to pull it off, but then she stopped. “He was so sweet Will, all kinda formal and tongue-tied. Very, you-know, English.” She picked up the third outfit, a blouse and skirt ensemble. “What do you think, too dull?”

“No, it’s perfect Buffy, but,” Willow looked serious for a moment. “You will be careful won’t you? I mean, he could be anyone.” She picked up Buffy’s stuffed pig, and pretended to make it talk. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Buffy slipped her arms into the blouse. "I don't think there's anything to worry about, he did try to help me last night" She did up the buttons, then undid the top two. “And he’s not just anyone, he’s Spike.” She frowned. “Stupid name, but it kinda suits him.” She pulled on the skirt. “Oh Willow, he’s so hot. There was this incredible chemistry. I’ve never felt anything like it.” She fastened the skirt and turned to the mirror again. “Be happy for me.”

“I am Buffy. Just don’t go rushing into things, you know.” Willow swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. “And think of me tucked up with Elements of Psychology.” She picked up her book, and put it in her shoulder bag.

Buffy smoothed down her skirt. It was perfect for a chic restaurant, but what if they went to a club afterwards? What kind of thing did Spike like anyway? She realised that she knew very little about him. He was doing a PhD, liked to wear black and seemed to be scared of hospitals. Oh, and he was foolhardy and brave, and good looking.. But what else was there? “Hey, maybe he’s like Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre, you know with the mad wife in the attic? But, honestly Will, he seemed like a regular kind of guy, well, apart from the hair...and he was kind of mysterious about his real name.”

“Maybe it’s Rumplestilskin.” Willow walked over to Buffy and gave her a hug. “I think I should be going. Don’t want to cramp your style.”

Buffy hugged her back. “Oh Will, we’ve got to find someone for you, then we can all go out together. This year is going to be so great. I just know it. Aagh, that’s the doorbell.”

For a moment they both stared at each other.

“He’s early.”

“I’ll let myself out the back.”

“Oh no, my earrings, where are they?”

“On your ears Buffy, You look great. Go let him in.”

“My hair.”

“Looks fine, get down there already." Willow blew her a kiss. "Going now.”

And then Buffy was alone. As the doorbell rang again, She quickly ran a brush through her hair, checked her teeth, took a deep breath and picked up her evening purse. Time to go.

Willow ran down the stairs and into the rear lobby. She let herself out of the back-door, hoping that Buffy would remember to lock it after her, then tiptoed round to the side-entrance and opened the gate carefully. From where she was, she could see Buffy’s date standing at the front door, holding an enormous bunch of flowers. They partially hid him from view, so she leaned out a little more. Funny, his hair was nothing like Buffy had described. She’d expected it to be, well, blonder. She jumped back behind the gate as he turned and looked round. Her car was on the drive, next to where he’d parked his and he was probably wondering who it belonged to. She watched him shuffle from foot to foot. ‘Open the door Buffy,’ she thought, ‘I want to go home.’ She couldn’t just casually stroll out from the back of the house now, he might think she was a burglar or something.

She sneaked another look. Buffy hadn’t been joking. He was good-looking, and that injury seemed to have healed but boy, did he look nervous. He was muttering to himself and holding out the flowers, then shaking his head and repeating the gesture. Then she saw him jump and heard Buffy's voice. At last, she was letting the poor guy in. As she dashed for her car, she couldn’t help feeling a little envious. Spike was hot. Just the kind of guy she could go for, in fact. And she was a very bad friend for even thinking such a thing. He was Buffy’s date and she’d made it clear that he was special. Willow backed her car off the drive and wondered maybe if he had a twin brother to spare?

~*~*~*~*~

Flowers. He’d sent her flowers. This just kept getting better and better. Buffy couldn’t stop the goofy grin that was forming on her face. “Oh, they’re beautiful.”

“Glad you like them.” The man handed them over with a flourish.

Buffy buried her face in the roses and breathed in their fragrance. When she looked up he was still there, looking at her expectantly. Tip. She’d forgotten to give him a tip. “Oh, how rude of me,” she said, reaching for her purse, and taking out a five pound note. “Is this enough, because, you know, I haven’t really got the hang of English money yet?”

He just stood there, giving her a strange look, and began turning very red. “Er, the flowers are for you Buffy.” He clapped his hands, then rubbed them together. “You know, like a gift?”

“Yes, I know and they’re lovely,” she looked at the five pound note. “Isn’t this enough?”

“Umm, you don’t have to pay for them.”

“Oh dear, you don’t tip in this country.” Buffy put the flowers on the hall table. “How embarrassing, I’m just so used to it, you know, being American. We have to tip everyone.” He still wasn’t leaving. “Well,” she made a big show of looking at her watch. “I can’t stand here talking all night. I have a date and,” she leaned out and looked round him, catching sight of Willow giving her the thumbs up as she got in her car, “he’ll be here any minute.”

“And he’d be me.”

“He’d be who?” Buffy took an abrupt step back.

“He’d be me. And I’m thinking we were having a bit of a mix up there. Did you think I was the...”

“Flower delivery man?” Buffy finished. “No, of course not.” Realisation was dropping on her like the proverbial ton of bricks. “Are you Spike’s...?”

“Friend. Yes.” He ran a hand through his floppy, brown hair. “The one he told you about?" He held out his hand, "He did tell you about me?”

Buffy took his hand. “Yes, yes of course. You’re, umm...”

“Xander.” He shook her hand and did a little bow. “Xander Harris.”

“Of course you are.” Buffy managed to force out a little laugh. “He told me all about you.”

Xander pulled a face, "Not everything I hope. Do you think we could this start again?”

“Okay, shall I shut...”

“The door?” Xander backed away. “Good idea. I’ll just be here.” He pointed at the door-step.

Buffy closed the door and leaned against it. Her spirits were rapidly nose-diving towards the floor. Spike really did have a ‘friend’. How could she have been so stupid to have thought anything else? And that poor guy out there. Trying to tip him? He must think she was a nut-case. And now she couldn't not go out with him, what with the beautiful flowers and all that. He’d be so hurt. How could she have misinterpreted the signals so badly? It had felt so right with Spike the other night. How could he do this to her?

~*~*~*~*~

“You steaming, great, prat. " Xander slapped himself on the forehead and stepped back. “Well, that was a great start.” He looked at the door. “Serves you right if she doesn’t open it. I wouldn’t if I was inside.” He paced up and down the step. “You’re out of your league here mate. Look at that car.” It was a very old Mini, and for the first time he didn’t feel the wave of affection he usually experienced. It suddenly looked like what it was. A clapped out old banger with tin-foil over the radiator. How could he take her out in that? This was one heck of a posh neighbourhood. He should have borrowed Spike’s car, only that wasn’t much better. And look how she was dressed. She’d obviously been expecting more than a pub-meal. He felt such a fool. How could Spike have done this to him?

~*~*~*~*~

Spike had finally tracked down Dru. She was sitting on a bar stool in the lounge of The Frog and Ferrett with a group of college friends and some other people he’d never seen before. She didn’t seem very pleased to see him.

"Hi, darling." He put an arm round her and pulled her in for a kiss, but she evaded him.

“My Spikey’s been a naughty boy,” she announced to the group. “Forgot all about me last night didn’t he?” She turned her back on him, and smirked to herself.

Spike dropped his arm and tried to hide his annoyance. He didn’t like her new friends and he didn’t like her when she was like this. “You were supposed to come with Xander.” She had that spaced out look and he guessed what she’d been up to. “He came to pick you up, but you weren’t there.”

“Oooh, is my Spikey all cross?” she giggled into her hand and turned round. “Gonna make it all up to you later, don’t you worry.” Her hand started a slow slide up the front of his jeans. “Dru’s got something special. Just what you like.”

He caught her hand and held on to it. “Come on Dru, we’re leaving.”

“Might not want to.” She pouted and leaned towards the balding man who was sitting to her right. “Johnny’s got something special for us. Ain’t that right Johnny?”

The man gave a non-committal shrug, "Might have.” He looked away, avoiding Spike’s glare. “And keep it down Dru. Gonna get me chucked outa here.”

Spike pulled her from the bar stool, and she fell into him giggling.

“Ooh Spike, what have you done to your face?” She ran her hand over the cut, causing Spike to pull back sharply.

“Careful love, got into a spot of bother.” He turned to Johnny, who was still avoiding him. “Which is what you’ll be in if I catch you giving her any more stuff. Got that mate?”

“You don’t own her, man.” It was one of Dru’s college friends. He quickly backed off, and sat down as Spike turned on him. He held up his hands. “I was only saying.”

Dru cuddled up to Spike. “He looks after me, my Spike does, and," she wagged her finger at Johnny, "you are a bad man.”

“I mean it.” Spike turned to Johnny again. "If you come near her..."

“You’ll what?” Johnny spoke quietly, without turning round. “Watch it Spike, you’re playing with the big boys now. You wouldn’t want to upset me or my friends now, would you?”

“Bloody hell.” Spike spun round, pulling Dru with him. Who the heck had she got herself entangled with? All he wanted was to finish his PhD, then he and Xander were going to try and make a go of their fledgling computer business. Poetry and computing. A strange combination, but he was good at both and he knew he could make something of his life. He’d even fantasised about him and Dru getting a place together when she’d finished college. This girl who he’d been mad about from the moment he’d set eyes on her, and who these days he hardly recognised. And he missed the old Dru, the sexy, passionate Dru who used to do things to him that no woman had ever done. He’d only just found out about her previous bout of drug addiction, the family had kept that well hidden, and now it seemed she was slipping back to her old habits. It was breaking his heart and she needed him now, more than ever.

“Come on love," he said quietly, "don’t fancy being beaten up again.”

He’d never fought over a woman before and now it seemed that’s all he was doing. As he put Dru in the car, his mind drifted to his encounter with Buffy. The light to Drusilla’s dark, he thought, and he wondered how her date with Xander was going.

~*~*~*~*~

“Okay, when I say now, I want you to lift the clutch to the biting point, accelerate just a bit, then push the clutch back down. Got it?”

Buffy stuck her head out of the window. “What was that bit after the clutch?”

“Lift the clutch until it bites.” Xander braced his arms on the back of the car. “Gonna start pushing, now.” He gave a great heave and nothing happened. “Buffy, are you braking?”

“Oops, sorry. I’m not used to three pedals.” She suddenly noticed that the hand-brake was on and she surreptitiously released it. “Think I’ve found the problem. Want to try again?”

Xander gave a one, two, three and pushed for all he was worth, the car rolled forward, kangarooed several times and then shuddered to a halt.

“Buffy, you’ve got to accelerate once it starts moving, and dip the clutch, or it will stall.”

She opened the door and got out of the car. Another pair of laddered stockings, and she was sure she’d stepped in something disgusting back there. “Perhaps if I pushed?” She walked to the back of the car. “It’s only little. I’m sorry Xander, I just don’t understand what I’m supposed to be doing.”

“No way Buffy.” He smoothed back the floppy lock of hair from his forehead and gave the car a kick. “I’m really sorry about this. She does this sometimes. Stops for no good reason. Perhaps I should call Spike?”

“No. Please, not Spike.” This was embarrassing enough for Xander. She certainly didn’t want Spike to witness it. “Perhaps we can get help.” She looked down the deserted country lane which was supposed to have been leading to a cosy country pub. “Was that a farm back there?”

Xander looked back. “May have been. Look, let’s have one more try. Hop in Buffy, you can do it.”

Buffy climbed back in and Xander pushed. She gave a shriek as the car suddenly veered to the left, “Xander!”

She heard him shout something extremely rude as the left side of the car gently sank into the muddy ditch.

~*~*~*~*~

If his car had been a woman, or a man for that matter, Xander would have strangled it. It wasn’t the most reliable car in the world, but why now? This date couldn’t get any worse. First Buffy had mistaken him for a delivery boy, then he’d realised that jeans and sweatshirt were not what you wore on a date with this kind of girl. She’d looked a million dollars when she’d opened that door, and she had to be the scariest driver in the world. He’d never seen anyone make such a mess of bump-starting a car before. She couldn’t even drive in a straight line.

He ran to the car and opened the door. “Buffy, are you all right?” She had her head in her hands and was shaking. “Oh no, Buffy,” he put his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t cry, there’s no damage.”

She looked up at him. There were tears in her eyes, but she wasn’t crying. She was laughing hysterically.

Xander didn’t know what to do. “And this is funny, why?”

She banged her hands on the steering wheel, accidentally catching the horn and making them both jump. That started her off again. Be, because it’s,” the laughter overtook her again. “Everything about this is funny, don’t you see? Me dressed like this, me sinking your car in a pond. I’m like a walking sit-com.” This time she did look close to tears.

“No, no, Buffy.” Xander offered her his hand and pulled her out of the car. “It’s me, I’m the walking sit-com. These things, they happen to me. And boy, do they happen to me.”

The car gave a lurch and sank down a little more. They both stared at it and this time Xander started the laughing, and by the time they stopped they were both completely hysterical.

~*~*~*~*~

“So, what you kids been up to then?” The farmer turned, and winked conspiratorially at Xander. “Bit o’ the old ‘if it’s rocking, don’t come a knocking’ eh?”

Buffy gave Xander a puzzled look. She didn’t understand a word the old farmer was saying. He had a thick country brogue which made it worse and any minute now she was going to start laughing again, which would be terribly rude. He had been kind though. They were bumping along on the back of his old tractor towards Xander’s mini, and hopefully, between them, they would be able to get it going again. Xander looked pretty shell-shocked, and Buffy really felt for him. She leaned over and touched him on the arm. “I think we could be really good friends Xander.” His face fell, “No, don’t look at me like that. I haven’t made many since I got here and me and you, well, we laugh at the same things.”

“Like my car. “

“Yeah.” She stifled a giggle. “Never seen anything like that one. I’d like to see that country pub though. It sounded kinda neat. Gotta do the whole Olde Englishe thing while I’m here. What do you say?”

He covered his face and rubbed his eyes. When he looked at her, he hadn’t quite managed to disguise his disappointment. “Okay Buffy, you got a date. A friendly, date, thing." He brightened, "Hey, maybe we can invite Spike and Dru along.”

“Spike and who?” The words stuck in her throat. Spike did have a girlfriend.

“Dru.” Xander tapped the farmer on the shoulder as they approached the stranded car. “My sister.”

Chapter 6

~ * ~

By the end of his date with Buffy, Xander was left with the comforting feeling that nothing else in his life could possibly be as embarrassing as what he’d just experienced. When they’d finally towed the car out of the ditch, it still wouldn’t start, so the farmer had taken them back to his house to wait for roadside recovery. The farmer’ s mother had immediately insisted that they stay for supper, declaring that Buffy was too thin and needed feeding up. They were then treated to an hour of holiday videos before, mercifully, the AA man had turned up and loaded the mini onto his truck. There was no time for any fancy goodbyes as they dropped Buffy off at her house and, although she’d declared the evening a good laugh, Xander was convinced that she’d never want to speak to him again. He’d crawled into his bed wondering how he could have ever thought a girl like Bufffy would have gone for a guy like him.

~*~*~*~*~

“And the funny thing is,” Xander propped his feet up on Spike’s couch, “by the end of the evening I was relieved that she didn’t want to go out with me.”

Spike threw him a beer and sat down opposite him. “So, it didn’t go well then?”

“Bloody disaster, mate.” He flicked the television remote control. “Match is about to start.”

“That’s it?” Spike couldn’t believe it. “A few days ago you wanted to marry her, and now all you’re worried about is Manchester United?”

“Look, I’m trying to disguise an embarrassment the size of Brazil here. You know, with the cool behaviour. No need to keep reminding me how wonderful my love-life is.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Spike saluted him with his beer bottle. He felt sorry for Xander, but he wasn’t entirely surprised at how things had turned out. Worse than that, he felt strangely relieved that Xander and Buffy wouldn’t be dating after all.

“She’s a nice girl and all,” Xander looked sad for a moment, “a really nice girl, but kinda scary, you know?”

“Yeah, I’ve been in a car with her.”

“No, I mean, when she opened the door, she was so, so,” he searched for the right word,” groomed. That’s it. Perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect house. I mean, look at me, Spike. She was expecting a five star restaurant last night, and all she got was steak and kidney pie and a randy farmer. I practically had to fight him off her.”

“You and me both mate.” Spike touched his injured eye. “Guess she’s the kind of girl that men want to shag.”

“Yeah, you keep saying that.”

“Do I?”

They both sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment. Spike tried to concentrate on the game, but his thoughts kept drifting to Buffy. He could just imagine her expression when she’d driven the mini into the ditch. She had the helpless female act down, and god help him if he hadn’t fallen for it. The pain over his eye attested to that.

“So, what did you think of that redhead she was with the other night?”

Spike raised his eyebrows. “Xander I am not...”

“Oh, go on Spike,” Xander reached for his beer bottle, “what are friends for?”

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy handed Willow her plate, and sat down at the table with her. “And then the farmer kept trying to pinch my bottom, right in front of poor Xander. I felt so sorry for him. Xander, not the farmer.”

“So, you won’t be seeing him again?” Willow picked up her knife and fork and stared at the food. “I thought he was kinda cute. From what I saw of him. Which wasn’t very much at all.” She dug into the food. “Nice steak.”

“Willow. Are you having the hots for my date?”

Willow felt herself going red. She really wished her colouring didn’t betray her emotions quite so much. “No Buffy, I just thought he looked nice, that’s all.”

“Oh, Will,” Buffy put her fork down, “I’m only teasing. He is nice, and it’s okay, really it is. Xander and I are going to be friends, but that’s all.”

Willow felt herself relax as she breathed a little sigh of relief. She didn’t want to be jealous of Buffy or encroach on her boyfriends, but she shouldn’t be feeling so pleased that the date didn’t work out.

“So, we need a plan.”

Oh dear, Buffy had the same look on her face that she’d had when she’d made her go into that rude underwear shop. Willow got the feeling that she was about to be roped in again.

“To get you and Xander together.”

Willow went a bright scarlet this time. “Oh no, Buffy I couldn’ t, I’m not good with boys.” She pointed to her face. “Look at me, and this is only thinking about him.”

But Buffy was obviously way ahead on her plan. “I’ve got it, we’ ll have a small gathering here. Maybe videos, and I could just happen to have to make an urgent, and very long phone call home, while you and Xander get to know each other better.”

“You’re not going to leave me alone with him, are you? What if he doesn’t like me?”

“What, after the Buffy makeover? He’ll be your slave.”

Willow choked as a piece of steak went down the wrong way. “No, no makeovers. I’m coming as Willow, if I'm coming at all. Hey, you could invite Spike.” She saw Buffy’s face fall. “Sorry, are you really mad at him for what he did?”

Buffy shook her head. “Yes, and no. And it’s my own fault really, he didn’t tell any lies. I just jumped to the wrong conclusion. Wishful thinking, I suppose.” She took a sip of her wine. “He’ s practically engaged to Xander’s sister.”

“Oh.” Willow could see that Buffy was trying to put on a brave face. “Shame. You really liked him didn’t you?”

“Yeah. Never felt anything like it Will.” She pushed her plate away, leaving her food practically untouched. “Can’t have him though. Let’s just skip to the chocolate shall we?”

~*~*~*~*~

He looked so cute in his glasses. Buffy ducked down behind the enormous volume she was pretending to read, and picked up her pen. Come on Buffy, Porphyro and Madeline, concentrate! But how could she concentrate with Spike sitting just a few feet away? He was chewing the end of his pen as he leafed through a book, then he threw it down on the table, leaned back and stretched. ‘Umm,’ she thought, ’the blue shirt suited him. Made a change from the black. Not that black didn't suit him. In fact he'd probably look good in a bin-bag.’ This wasn't good, she was turning into a stalker. She drew a heart on the empty page and then scribbled it out. Half an hour of lurking and she still hadn't plucked up the courage to talk to him. Just because he had a girlfriend didn’ t mean that she couldn’t, did it? She had the perfect excuse, needed to find out about his cut. If it was healing properly, that sort of thing. She’d been going over and over it in her head. ’So, how are things then? How’s your head? Your cut? Your girlfriend?’ She took another peek.

“Buffy?”

She jumped at the sound of his voice. Heck, he was right behind her.

“Thought it was you.” Spike flicked over the book she was hiding behind. “Latin? I’m impressed.”

“Well, you know…” she hadn't even realised what she'd grabbed off the shelf, and how had he got there so fast? “Exercising the old grey cells.” Buffy snapped the book closed, causing a puff of air to scatter her notes. She pushed her chair back and stood up but Spike got there first.

“Let me.” He crouched down and gathered up the papers. “The Eve of St Agnes , eh? What’s your favourite bit then?”

“Meantime, across the moors, had come young Porphyro, with heart on fire for Madeline.” Buffy said without hesitation. “It’s just so . . . passionate.” She gazed up at Spike, her eyes shining. “Like he just can’t help himself.”

He nodded in agreement. “Daft prat’s got the hots for her all right.”

“And that bit at the end,” Buffy closed her eyes and sighed. “And they are gone: aye, ages long ago. These lovers fled away into the storm.” She shivered slightly, and shook her head, glancing away self-consciously. “Sorry, that bit always gives me goose-bumps.“

“Don’t apologise,” his eyes softened, “I enjoyed that. Are you always this responsive?”

“What?” Buffy’s head snapped up.

“Er, to poetry.” Spike stuck both hands in his pockets. “You looked pretty into it then.”

“I don’t know,” Buffy gathered up her things and stuffed them in her bag. “Sometimes I wish I could be Madeline, disappearing into the night, braving the storm. Taking the big chance.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and didn’t look at him. “I never will though.”

“Why not?” Spike sat down on the corner of the table. “What’s stopping you?”

“Life, everything. You must have seen me the other night. Making the big fool of myself. Couldn’t even do that right.” She suddenly remembered what she was going to say to him. “How’s your head by the way?”

“Good.”

“Did I thank you for that?”

“Don’t rightly remember.”

“How’s Xander?”

“He’ll get over it.”

“Good. I like him, he's nice. Would you like to have coffee?” There, she’d said it. Without stuttering or mixing up the words. She waited for his answer.

“Sounds good.” He stood up. “But only if you read me some more poetry.”

“Only if you promise me something first. Do you need your books?”

“No, I’m coming back.” They walked to the door and Spike opened it for her. “So, what would that be? I’m more than willing to help with any of those assignments.”

“No, it’s not that, but thanks. It’s about Xander...and my friend Willow.”

“Willow? The redhead??”

“You saw her, in the club?”

“Yeah, with the scary heels.”

“She’s not usually like that.”

He chuckled, “Kinda guessed that.”

Well, she thinks Xander’s cute, so I’m having this thing on Friday. At my house.”

“And you want me to invite Xander?”

“And you can come too. And Drusilla, of course.” There, she was being very mature about it all. She could cope with seeing Spike and Drusilla together, couldn’t she?

“Oh,” he hesitated at the mentioned of Drusilla’s name, “she’s not very...”

“It’s just a casual thing.” She didn’t want to sound too eager.

“No biggie. Bring your favourite video.”

“I’ll ask her.”

“Good.” Buffy had to admit she was curious about Drusilla. And, if she was going to be friends with Spike, she would have to meet her sometime.

She studied him surreptitiously as they walked along the corridor.. He was beautiful. She hadn’t realised that men could be. He had a lithe grace.. Power and raw sensuality all mingled together. She was just so drawn to him. He made her smile, he made her blush, he made her feel. And that was going to be one heck of a sexy scar over his eye. God, she was a love-struck jerk. And Drusilla was the luckiest woman alive.

~*~*~*~*~

On the way to the canteen, Spike stopped for a moment. “Wait up Buffy, just got to check something.”

He walked over to the English Department notice board and scanned the flyers and announcements. There it was. A Weekend with Wordsworth. Venue, Carlington Manor, Lake District. Strongly recommended for course 47E and 37E. Any questions see Prof. Hartington or William Giles (English Dept)

He ran a finger down the list of names. She'd signed.