Chapter One

“I need you to go on a date for me.”

Buffy’s head snapped up from the magazine she’d been reading, green eyes wide with surprise.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

Willow blew her nose noisily in a tissue and pinned Buffy with a glare.

“You heard me.”

“Willow,” Buffy frowned at her best friend. “I can’t go on a date for you.”

“Why not?”

Rising from the armchair Buffy began gathering the remains of the lunch she and Willow had just finished. “Don’t you think the guy’s going to notice?”

Willow rolled her eyes before launching into a coughing fit and then collapsing back onto her bed. “He won’t have a clue,” she croaked.

Buffy’s watched her friend with worried eyes. When Willow had called and asked her to bring by some soup and magazines Buffy'd had no idea her friend was so sick. This cold had been going around at the office where they worked together but Buffy had been lucky enough not to get sick – yet. After taking care of Willow for the weekend Buffy wasn’t so sure she’d escape unscathed.

After cleaning up the dishes in the kitchen Buffy made them both a cup of tea and returned to the bedroom.

“Thanks for taking care of me.”

“No problem,” Buffy smiled and plopped back down into the armchair that she’d pulled up beside the bed. “Just remember this next week when I’m the one in the bed hacking up my lungs.”

“Oh that’s a pretty picture,” Willow laughed tiredly. “So you haven’t told me if you’ll go.”

“Go where?” The feigned innocence on Buffy’s face wouldn’t have fooled anyone. Least of all her friend of five years.

“On the date silly.”

“Okay this is just strange,” Buffy placed her tea on the bedside table and frowned. “Just who is it that you’re going out with that he wouldn’t notice that it wasn’t even you he was with?”

Willow dropped her eyes, becoming suddenly engrossed in a loose thread on her bedspread. Then, taking a deep breath she blurted out, “William Rafe.”

Buffy’s jaw dropped open. All she could think was how grateful she was that she’d put her hot tea down before hearing that name. Suddenly she burst out laughing as she realized that she must have misunderstood. “Willow how on earth did you hook up with a guy named William Rafe? Geez he must hate having that name.”

Willow shook her head as she spoke quietly, “Not a William Rafe. The William Rafe.”

“The William Rafe.” Buffy repeated. “The star of Hours of Darkness. The show that we sit in your lounge room watching every Tuesday night.”

Willow cringed. “Yes.”

All humour fled as Buffy fell back into staring at her friend in amazement. “How?” The quiet word slipped out of her mouth on a rush of breath.

“I entered a competition from some magazine. Win a date with William Rafe. I never thought in a million years I would win. But then...” Her voice dropped away and she gave a little shrug.

Finally, a huge smile spread across Buffy’s face and she laughed in giddy delight. “You must be so excited. That’s amazing. He’s like the sexiest man on the face of the planet.”

“Well according to you. I prefer that other guy myself. That Xander Harris guy.” Willow paused before looking at Buffy with trepidation. “You’re not mad at me then?”

“Why would I be mad?” Buffy asked.

“Because I know you really like him and I was going to meet him and I didn’t tell you because I thought you’d be…I don’t know…jealous or something.” Willow’s words stumbled to a halt as she watched Buffy’s face worriedly. “Please say you’re not mad.”

Buffy smiled, eager to relieve her friend’s guilt. “Of course I’m not mad. I do wish you’d told me though so I could be excited for you. It will be heaps of fun. We’ll have to go shopping and buy you something fabulous to wear.”

Willow finally gave a relieved smile. And promptly sneezed. Tossing her tissue, with more vigour than accuracy, at her waste paper basket she sighed, “So you’ll go for me then?”

Quickly reminded of how this conversation started Buffy suddenly felt panic closing in.

“Of course I’m not going. You’re going. You won and you’re going. This will be a night to brag to your children about and I’m not taking it away from you.”

“It’s tonight Buffy.”

As Willow’s words penetrated her brain Buffy paused to take in her friend’s appearance. Willow was much paler than usual and her eyes were red and puffy. Her normally vibrant red hair hung limp and tangled down to her shoulders. Even as she watched Buffy got the impression that all Willow wanted was to finish this conversation so she could get some sleep.

“Oh,” she whispered.

Willow took in Buffy’s ‘deer in headlights’ expression and knew she’d have to act quick if she was going to talk her friend into this. “Please Buffy. I know you’d have a great time. You can’t tell me you haven’t fantasized about this ever since you first clapped eyes on him on the television. I was there I saw you.”

“That was not him that was an accident.”

“You dropped popcorn all over the lounge room floor.”

“I tripped,” Buffy argued half-heartedly.

“Yeah,” Willow retorted. “Over your tongue.”

Buffy blushed at the memory. She could admit she’d been shocked at her reaction to the platinum-blonde man that had appeared on the small screen. Her breath had caught in her throat and she’d spent the entire hour with her eyes fixated to the sharp angles of his face. Enthralled with the deep timbre of his voice. As the credits had rolled on that first episode Buffy had been completely embarrassed to realize she had barely spoken a word to Willow throughout the entire show. It didn’t help that by then Willow was laughing uncontrollably at her.

“He’ll be here in two hours to pick you up.” Willow’s voice brought Buffy out of her memories. “So get busy shimmying into the most revealing dress you can find in my closet. I expect to hear every delicious detail tomorrow.”

Buffy’s heart threatened to burst from her chest as the reality of the situation hit her. William Rafe. Here. In two hours. Blind panic took over as her mind ran through a hundred different ways she could make a complete fool of herself in front of a man she had never dreamed she would actually meet.

“I can’t do this,” she gasped between pants. “I can’t just go out on a date with William Rafe.”

“Why not?” Willow snuggled into her covers, knowing she’d won the argument even if Buffy hadn’t realized it yet. “Just tell him you’re me. He’ll never know the difference. Try the red dress with the split up the side. No man could resist you in that one.”

In a daze, Buffy moved to Willow’s closet and opened the doors. Her eyes ran over the multitude of colours and fabrics without seeing them. A million thoughts clamoured for attention in her mind. What would she say to him? What would he think of her? What if he turned out to be a jerk?

Taking a fortifying breath Buffy forced herself to examine the contents of Willow’s wardrobe. If she was going to do this, she decided, she might as well do it right.

Chapter Two

William ‘Spike’ Rafe exited the elevator of the plush LA office building with a determined stride.

“When was this arranged Dru?” he asked his assistant via the mobile phone that was pressed to his ear.

“Last month,” she replied. “You didn’t like it but you did say yes.”

“Bollocks,” Spike muttered as he approached his agent’s secretary. “I’ll talk to you later.” With an irritated snap he closed his phone and slipped it into his pocket. “I need to see Lorne,” he told the woman at the desk.

“No problemo Mr Rafe,” Harmony replied with a cheery smile. “He’s been expecting you, go right on in.”

Quickly entering the office Spike levelled Lorne with a glare.

“Good afternoon Spike,” Lorne flashed him a million-watt smile from his seat in an overstuffed armchair.

“I’m not doing it Lorne,” Spike stated bluntly.

Casually sipping his drink, Lorne seeming unconcerned about his client’s announcement. “You agreed.”

“So I’m told. Strange how I don’t remember doing that.”

“Well,” Lorne tried to look embarrassed but failed miserably, “I might have slipped it in after handing you a new script to look over. It seems you may have been preoccupied reading it when I asked you.”

“You sneaky son of a bitch,” Spike shook his head and dropped into a chair. He knew for a fact Lorne was aware of how excited he got about new projects. Handing him a script was the perfect way to ensure that he wasn't paying much attention to what was happening around him.

“Come on Spike,” Lorne’s tone was warm but determined. “Just this last one and then I’ll never ask you to do this again.”

Spike snorted, “How long will never last this time?”

“At least six months,” Lorne grinned mischievously. “Maybe even longer.”

Despite his dislike of the situation Spike couldn’t help but smile at Lorne’s use of liberal definitions. This was the sixth ‘Win a date’ contest he’d had to do in as many months. Lorne insisted that the fact that he was single meant that the ‘dates’ would be a big hit with his fans. Spike, however, had never particularly liked the thought of his love life being up for sale to any woman that could buy a magazine and fill in a form.

“It’s a date with a woman who already adores you,” Lorne argued. “Surely it can’t be that bad.”

Spike just looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay so that last one was a bit uncomfortable.”

Spike’s bark of laughter cut him off. “Uncomfortable?” he cried indignantly. “That’s what you call it? That bloody bint was all over me the entire night. I couldn’t pry her off with a crowbar.”

“So she was a little over-eager.”

“When I turned down her rather blatant offer to turn dinner into breakfast she screamed at me about what a lousy date I was, hit me with her purse – which felt more like a hammer than a handbag by the way - and told everyone that would listen that I’m gay.”

Lorne cringed at the memory. “She was a bad seed, obviously. But that was just one incident. What about the others.”

With a sigh Spike admitted the other women he’d ‘dated’ had all been polite enough.

“There you go,” Lorne latched onto the comment as if that ended the discussion. “Sweetums, the winner of this competition is sure to be a darling.”

Spike looked decidedly unconvinced. “And you know this because?”

“Call it intuition.” Though his words were still light-hearted, Lorne had resorted to using his listen-to-me-and-do-as-I-tell-you face. Spike knew from experience there was no longer any point in arguing.

“Right then.” Spike dropped his head into his hands and sighed in defeat. “Date night it is.”

Sitting in a limousine two hours later Spike was still grumbling about killer purses and the faulty intuition of gay men when he realised he had no idea who his 'date' was.

Calling to the driver he asked, “Hey mate. You know the name of this bird?”

The driver glanced at a sheet of paper on the seat beside him. “Willow Rosenberg,” he said as he pulled the car to a stop in front of a cosy looking brick house. “And that’s her place right there.”

Thanking the man for his help Spike took a deep breath and got out of the car. “Okay,” he thought to himself as he walked up the path and knocked on the door. “If this one’s carrying a heavy purse I’m out of here. Public relations be damned.”

The door opened and Spike was struck dumb by a single thought. “If she wants me, I’m hers.”

Chapter Three

Why is he staring at me? Buffy wondered as she stood self-consciously in the doorway. She’d chosen a pale yellow dress with large pastel flowers which complimented her tanned skin. The soft material fell to her calves, hugging her curves gently and hinting at the slender body beneath. Strappy high heels completed the outfit. Her golden hair lay in loose curls around her shoulders. Willow had been giving her a final once over with a critical eye when the doorbell rang, so she knew she didn’t have smudged lipstick or any unsightly stains on her dress.

Eager to break the now lengthening silence Buffy cleared her throat and held out her hand. “Good evening Mr Rafe.”

He suddenly shook his head as if to clear it. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting…,” his voice trailed off and he smiled apologetically. “Good evening,” he said as he shook her proffered hand. “It’s nice to meet you…err.”

“Bu-Willow. My name is Willow,” Buffy rambled nervously. Oh this is getting off to a great start, she scolded herself, neither one of us can remember who I’m supposed to be.

“Right. It’s nice to meet you Willow,” Spike said as he offered her his arm.

With a tentative smile, Buffy placed her hand lightly in the crook of his arm and allowed him to lead her down the path to the waiting limousine. Stealing a glance at him she was surprised to realise that he was just as attractive in real-life as he was on the television. With its strong jaw line and high cheekbones, his face looked to have been sculptured by an artist. His platinum-blonde hair was resisting the hold of the gel he’d slicked it back with, showing a slight curl. The deep blue eyes, which had sent delicious shivers down her spine as he’d stared at her, reminded her of the ocean at sunrise. Beneath the dark suit and blue button-up shirt he wore, his lean masculine form was evident. Flexing the fingers that were wrapped lightly around his arm she felt the firmness of his bicep and had to resist the urge to explore further. She had assumed she would not be as affected by the flesh and blood person as she was by his darkly mysterious character. Convinced that no real man could provoke the potent rush of feelings that had been sparked by the fantasy. She had been wrong.

When he opened the car door for her, Buffy looked up at him with a small smile. Their eyes met for a moment and she was startled by the intensity of his gaze. Her breath caught in her throat and she forced herself to murmur a quiet word of thanks before seating herself on the luxurious leather. As he walked to the other door she exchanged a quick greeting with the driver and then took a deep breath in an effort to steadying her nerves.

“So,” Buffy asked as the drive pulled the car out into the street, “where are we going this evening?”

Spike gave her a winning smile and a wink, “Somewhere very special.”

Buffy couldn’t help but chuckle at the vagueness of his answer. “You have no idea do you?” she guessed.

“Not a clue,” he admitted ruefully. “But my assistant always books a very nice restaurant so I have no doubt it will be special.”

“Does your assistant arrange all your dates for you?” she teased.

“She would if I let her,” he replied lightly.

“Do you have to do this sort of thing very often?”

“Well, yeah, quite a bit.” His eyes swept down her body and then returned to her sparkling green eyes. “Though I have a feeling that escorting a beautiful and intelligent woman such as yourself to dinner shall be nothing short of delightful.”

Even as she felt her heartbeat began to race Buffy shied away at his words, uncomfortable with what she knew was nothing more than a polite façade. Even more perturbing was the response he so easily provoked in her body. She knew that if he continued to talk to her like that she’d be hard-pressed to remember that this wasn’t a real date. Then she’d be in real trouble.

“Look, Mr Rafe…”

His amused voice cut her off. “Please, call me William.”

“William,” she smiled as the name rolled pleasantly off her tongue. “Thank you very much for your compliments. However, I do realise that you’re only spending this time with me because of some silly competition.” She saw him frown and held up her hand to halt him when he would have spoken. “So it’s really not necessary for you to flirt with me or pretend this is something it’s not. I’d really like it if we could just talk and enjoy each other’s company. What do you think?”

She almost laughed at the shocked expression on his face. For long moments he seemed to be contemplating her words, searching her face for some indication that she meant what she said. Finally he nodded, as if coming to a conclusion. “You’ve got a deal Willow.”

Buffy was a little disconcerted at hearing him speak her friend’s name. She’d been so blunt about doing away with any pretence on his part that she’d all but forgotten that her very presence beside him was based on a lie. Giving a mental shrug Buffy decided to simply enjoy her evening and not worry about it. After all, in a few hours this date would be over and she’d never see him again, except for her usual Tuesday night rendezvous with the television. There was no need for him to ever know of her deception.

Chapter Four

The restaurant was situated on a beachfront just outside LA. Converted from an old house, the restaurant had an elegant old-world feel to it. Buffy and Spike were shown to a table on the wide veranda which wrapped around the outside of the building. Here they were able to enjoy the sound of the waves washing up on the nearby shore. Lanterns hung from the roof, their gentle light lending a romantic air to the setting.

Spike stole a glance at his companion as she sat quietly studying the menu. He had been completely taken aback by her little speech in the car. He was used to the women he met under these circumstances preening under his compliments. He liked making them feel good and they enjoyed his attentions. That was the whole idea of the date! Never had he had a woman simply want to talk with him, openly rejecting any attempt at greater, if somewhat superficial, intimacy.

But then, he found himself wondering, how superficial would it be with this particular woman. He’d been speechless at the very sight of her, unable to so much as remember the name the driver had given him not five minutes earlier. With her long golden hair and her slender, toned body, he’d found he was suddenly looking forward to spending an evening plying her with compliments. Then, to have her reject his advances, well he was flummoxed to say the least. Now that his usual form of handling these ‘dates’ had been disallowed, he was at a bit of a loss at to how to deal with her.

“Would you like to share a bottle of wine love?”

She looked up uncertainly at his words.

He raised his hands in a defensive manner. “Just an affectation. I even called my mother love.”

Buffy laughed self-consciously. “I’m sorry,” she told him. “I know I’m being a bit silly.”


“Not at all,” he replied. “You like people to be straight-forward with you. I can understand that.”

Buffy gave him a grateful smile and he found himself staring at her once again, wanting to find more ways to make her smile. Then a small frown marred her features. “I notice you said ‘called’? You’re mother has passed on?”

Spike nodded. “Yeah. She died when I was 17. Car accident.” He looked up to see compassion and understanding in her eyes.

“My Mom died last year so, I understand to some extent.”

“I’m sorry love.” Feeling her need to talk about it he asked, “How did she die?”

“She had a brain tumour. The doctors removed it and we all thought she’d be okay but…it was an aneurism. I found her on the couch when I came home.”

Instinctively Spike reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Do you have other family here in LA?”

Visibly brightening, Buffy replied, “Yes actually. I have a younger sister, Dawn.” Buffy smiled fondly as she thought of her vibrant, energetic sister. “She turns 21 tomorrow and she’s forcing me to go to her favourite club,” she said cringing.

Spike laughed at the look on her face. “Not your scene love?”

“I figure any place called The Fish Tank is not somewhere I would normally go, no. But she knows I’d do just about anything for her so…”

“Sounds like you’re very close.”

Buffy nodded. “We are. Especially now that Mom is gone.” Buffy shook her head, obviously fighting back the tears that suddenly clouded her eyes. Looking up at him she smiled brightly and stated, “Let’s move onto more cheerful things shall we? Tell me, when did you decide you wanted to be an actor?”

Following her lead, Spike was about to launch into his usual speech about enjoying the world of pretend and getting the chance to do lots of things he would never have the courage to do as himself, when he suddenly paused with his mouth open. Why did he become an actor? It was a question he hadn’t asked himself in quite a while and he took a moment to actually think about it.

“I wanted people to see me,” he said quietly.

Buffy looked at him in a questioning manner. “See you how?” she asked.

“I was…forgettable…when I was young. Didn’t have many acquaintances, no real friends. Spent way too much time writing some of the most pitiful poetry every to be recorded on paper.” He saw Buffy’s understanding smile, rather than the laughter he had expected, and continued. “There was a girl. Cecily. To my eyes she was perfect. Beautiful, intelligent, witty. I wanted her to notice me. So I decided to change. Become the kind of man that women like her wanted to be with. I talked different, dressed different, walked different, the whole bit.”

“Did it work?” Buffy asked, watching him with interest.

“Not a whit,” he replied with a chuckle. “Turned out she was already in love with someone else. I did become popular though. People started to pay attention to me, even sought me out. I was able to make people feel good, give them want they wanted to see. Realised it was a bit of a gift. So when I went to university I studied drama. Before long I was getting parts in some major plays, and the rest as they say is history.” He finished with a flourish and a big grin, which faded slightly when he saw Buffy frowning.

“Something wrong love?”

“It didn’t work,” she said sadly.

“What do you mean?” He had no idea why he’d told her about that time in his life, things he hadn’t told anyone before. But now that he had, he found himself holding his breath as he awaited her response.

“People still don’t see you,” she replied. “They only see what you want them to see, or what you think they want to see. They notice you, but they don’t see you.”

Spike stared at her in shock. He hadn’t meant to reveal so much of himself to her and found he was uncomfortable with the depth of her insight. He was just opening his mouth to deny her words when their waiter arrived to take their order and the moment was lost.

After the waiter left an awkward silence fell between them. Buffy realised she had touched a nerve and could have sworn she could almost see him withdrawing from her. So she wasn’t surprised when he suddenly asked her to tell him about herself.

She shrugged. “There’s not much to tell really. I grew up in a little town a couple of hours from here called Sunnydale,” she began. “I studied law at college but unfortunately Mom’s business took a turn for the worse and we couldn’t afford the last year of school. So I became a legal secretary. I moved to LA when a position came up in my friend Willow’s firm.”

“You have a friend named Willow?” he asked in surprise.

Buffy blanched as she realised her mistake. “Yes,” she blurted, hoping he wouldn’t notice her sudden anxiety. “Freaky huh?”

“Yeah,” Spike replied with a smile. “I imagine it’s not a very common name.”

“Exactly,” Buffy replied with an almost-too-bright laugh. She paused to gather her thoughts, dropping her hands into her lap so he wouldn’t see them shaking. “So anyway, I’ve been with her firm for about five years now.”

“Doesn’t that get confusing? The two of you working in the same place?”

“You have no idea,” she said baldly. Then, attempting to look convincing she continued, “But she is actually a lawyer now and we work in different departments so it’s not too bad.”

Spike seemed to accept her words and simply asked, “Do you think you’ll go back and finish your studies one day?”

Relaxing slightly, Buffy replied, “I’d like too some day, but I’m not sure I’ll get around to it. That’s okay though, I’m happy with my work and my life. I don’t feel like I missed out on anything.”

“That’s great,” Spike said with a nod. “A lot of people aren’t able to adapt to life’s punches so well. It’s good that you’ve found something you enjoy, even if it’s not what you originally planned.”

“Thank you William.” Buffy smiled shyly at his compliment and took a big gulp of her wine.

After they finished their meal Spike suggested they take a short stroll along the beach before taking her home. He held her hand to steady her as she removed her shoes so she could feel the sand beneath her feet. Then, when she would have pulled away he tightened his grip, threading their fingers together. Unable to resist, Buffy could only smile when he winked at her, and allow him to tug her down to the waterline.

The silence between them was more comfortable now, as they wandered near the water’s edge. Seeing her shiver, Spike slipped off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. Buffy smiled her appreciation and reached for his hand again before continuing down the beach. All too soon they returned to the car and began the short drive back to Buffy’s ‘home’.

As Spike accompanied her to the door Buffy felt a pang of disappointment, knowing that their time was almost up. “I want to thank you for this evening William,” Buffy said as she gazed up at him. “I had a really lovely time.”

Spike smiled at her warmly. “You’re welcome. So did I.”

For long moments they stood lost in each other’s eyes, unable to turn away. Slowly, Spike lowered his head and lightly brushed his lips against hers. Buffy gasped softly, her heart racing. Lifting his hand, Spike gently caressed her cheek and she leant into his touch. Their lips met again, more firmly, and when at last they parted, Buffy could feel his hot breath on her face as he whispered, “Willow.”

Buffy jumped back as if burned. “I’m sorry, I can’t…” she stammered, her face flushing with embarrassment.

“I’m not pretending.” He spoke firmly, his eyes locked on her with a fierce intensity.

“I know,” she reassured him, realising he had misinterpreted her suddenly apprehension. She opened her mouth to explain, tell him everything, but no sound came out. He’d been so open with her. Somehow she knew that if he realised she’d been lying about who she was the whole time, it would destroy any tender feelings he had for her. Suddenly she couldn’t do it. At least this way, she thought to herself, I have the memory of a wonderful evening I spent with this man.

Desperate for one last touch, Buffy rose up onto her toes to plant a final hard kiss on his lips. Then, with a quiet, “Good night William,” she walked into the house and closed the door behind her.

Spike stood staring at the door long after it had closed. “What the hell just happened”, he muttered to himself. She felt it. I know she did. But the wooden door belied his words and finally, with a confused frown, he turned and made his way back to the car.

Chapter Five

Buffy was still sleeping soundly when Willow snuck into the guest bedroom and plopped down on the bed. She arranged herself in a cross-legged position, settled her blanket comfortably around her shoulders and tapped the Buffy-sized lump under the covers till she heard it groan.

Turning over, Buffy glared at Willow and stretched tiredly. It had been nearly dawn before had finally fallen asleep and she was no where near ready to face the obviously gossip-hungry Willow.

“So?” Willow asked when she couldn’t wait any longer.

“How are you feeling?” Buffy asked.

“Much better than yesterday,” Willow replied before slapping the bedspread with an impatient hand. “Now spill!”

“Okay, okay.” Relenting, Buffy pulled herself into a sitting position. “It was the best and worst night of my life.”

Willow grinned and leaned forward, wide eyes focused expectantly on Buffy’s face. “Tell me everything.”

Buffy smiled at her friend’s avid attention. “It was wonderful,” she began. “We went to this beautiful restaurant on the beach. Then after dinner we walked on the sand. He held my hand.”

“What was he like?”

“Oh Willow, he was so perfect. He was kind and interesting and so unbelievable gorgeous,” she finished with an appreciative sigh.

Willow giggled in delight.

“When we got back he walked me to the door and…” Buffy’s words trailed off as she remembered the feel of his lips against hers and her body tingled in pleasure.

“And what?” Willow interrupted her thoughts.

Buffy looked up with a dreamy smile on her face. “He kissed me.”

“Oh my God,” Willow bounced on the bed. “What was it like?”

“Freakin’ amazing.”

“And then what?”

Buffy groaned and dropped her head in her hands. “I bolted.”

“You what?”

“I said good night, walked inside and closed the door in his face.”

“What the hell did you do that for?” Willow shouted, a shocked expression on her face.

“He didn’t know who I was and then he was so wonderful and we kissed and…I panicked.”

Seeing the stricken look on Buffy’s face Willow sighed and ask her quietly, “Why didn’t you just tell him?”

“That’s the million dollar question.” Buffy moaned and collapsed back onto the bed. Taking a moment she tried to find the words to explain. “When we first left I asked him to not pretend that we were on a real date, but just to enjoy each other’s company. And it really was a great night. I think we actually connected, you know?” When Willow nodded she continued. “He told me things that I don’t think he normally tells people Will. Then when he kissed me, I just knew that if he found out I was lying to him, he would have been angry at me.”

“But it was just your name. You didn’t lie about anything else did you?”

“No.” Buffy frowned, looking at Willow in dismay. “I made a really big mistake didn’t I?”

“Well?” Willow tried to fake a thoughtful expression, but gave up when Buffy rolled her eyes. “Okay, you did. You should have told him. Chances are he would have understood.”

Buffy groaned miserably and buried her head under her pillow. “Willow what am I going to do?”

Willow cringed at her friend’s muffled words, “I don’t think there is much you can do. You have no way of contacting him, and he probably saw the door in the face thing as a pretty clear message.” Buffy moaned loudly and Willow changed tack, hoping to soothe her feelings. “Maybe you were right though. He might have been really angry with you. Then you would have ended the night on a bad note. So, it’s probably best this way.”

Pulling her head out from under the pillow, Buffy pouted. “No, you’re right. I had a date with the man of my dreams and I blew it.” With a sigh she rose from the bed and headed for the kitchen. “Come on, this calls for pancakes.”

**********

Buffy smiled when a bottle of beer appeared in front of her face. Taking the bottle she watched her sister seat herself at the table. “Aren’t I supposed to be buying you the drinks Miss Birthday Girl?”

“Yeah,” Dawn replied with a grin, “But after last night I figure you really need it.”

Rolling her eyes Buffy took a long pull on her drink. Her face screwed up and she shuddered in distaste. “You know I don’t like beer, right?”

Dawn fixed her with a look. “Stop whinging and drink. You’ll have a good time tonight if it kills me.” The moment Dawn had laid eyes on Buffy she’d known something was up, and after much prodding Buffy had filled her in on ‘the William Rafe fiasco’, as she was now calling it. When the cries of ‘You didn’t’ and ‘Buffy you idiot’ had finally died down, Dawn had decided they both needed to get drunk. One hour and several tequila shots later they were comfortably settled at a table near the dance floor of The Fish Tank.

Buffy had been pleasantly surprised by the club that Dawn had talked so much about. It was comfortable, with a relaxed, friendly atmosphere. A multitude of tables and chairs surrounded a sturdy wooden dance floor which was currently half full. There was a blessed absence of pop music, with modern rock emanating from the DJ booth near the back of the room. Suddenly feeling the need to dance Buffy finished the last of her beer and jumped up from the table. Grabbing Dawn’s hand she grinned, “Don’t worry. I won’t let it kill you.”

Dawn laughed happily as they joined the other dancers on the floor. Letting the music flow over her Buffy moved to the beat. Losing herself in the rhythm.

**********

Even as he walked into the dimly lit club Spike asked himself again why he was there. This is ridiculous, he thought to himself. The woman closed the door in your face. How much more of a clue do you need? Still, all day he’d been unable to shake the feeling that he was missing something. He just knew he had to see her one more time.

Strolling through the room he spotted her on the dance floor. Her golden hair bounced around her shoulders as she danced with sensual abandon. His eyes travelled down over the red clinging top and black leather pants and he felt himself harden instantly. “Please God let me be right about this,” he murmured before moving onto the dance floor. Her touched her shoulder and she looked around, obviously ready to tell whoever it was to get lost. Then she saw him and her eyes widened in surprise. A delighted smile spread across of face before she threw herself into his arms and planted a wet, welcoming kiss on his mouth.

Chapter Six

Buffy froze as her somewhat inebriated mind caught up with her body. She cracked an eye open to find herself in a lip lock with a very surprised William Rafe. Pulling back a little she smiled weakly at him.

“Sorry about that,” she mumbled.

Spike chuckled. “Hey, anytime you want to say hello like that I promise not to complain.”

Buffy couldn’t help but laugh at his teasing tone. She noticed he hadn’t removed his hands from her hips and she felt their warmth ripple through her as she smiled up at him. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she said with a relieved sigh. “How did you find me?”

“You told me you’d be here. Your sister’s birthday, right?”

Buffy nodded, suddenly remembering Dawn’s presence. She turned around to see her sister staring at them with an amused grin. Drawing up to her full height Buffy put on her best I’m-completely-sober voice and introduced them. “Dawn, this is William Rafe. William, this is my sister Dawn.”

The two shook hands before Dawn announced she was going to the bar and wouldn’t it be a great idea for the two of them to go out on the balcony and talk. Rolling her eyes at her sister’s bluntness, Buffy took Spike’s hand and, without a word, led him out through a nearby door. Given that the club was on the second floor, and the balcony had a view of nothing more than the street below, they had the area to themselves. A fact Buffy was very grateful for at that moment.

Turning to face Spike, she tried to control the butterflies that were playing havoc in her stomach. “So,” she began, “you were looking for me?”

“I was,” he replied. He curled his tongue behind his teeth in the sexiest smile she’d ever seen and stalked toward her.

“And why was that?” She backed away until she felt the railing behind her. Her breath caught as he came closer.

Placing his hands on the railing on either side of her he looked down into her flushed face and grinned, “Well, last night you didn’t let me say a proper good night.”

He was so close Buffy felt like she couldn’t breathe. The mixture of alcohol and his presence left her light-headed and she had to fight the urge to lean into the strength of his body. “What would a proper good night consist of?”

“It would start,” he whispered as her lowered his head, “something like this.” He closed the space between them and they both moaned in pleasure. Sliding her hands around his neck Buffy quickly deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue into his mouth to taste him. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her against him. When they finally parted his voice was raspy with desire. “Then it would end with me asking when I can see you again.”

Buffy smiled giddily. “You want to see me again?”

“Oh Willow, I want that very much,” he replied, pulling her in for another kiss.

At his words she placed her hands on his chest to hold him back.

A puzzled expression crossed his face as he looked at her. “What’s wrong?”

Buffy swallowed hard, preparing herself for the coming conversation. “My name is not Willow Rosenberg.”

He frowned at her, obviously confused. “What do you mean?”

Pulling out of his arms Buffy took a deep breath and launched into her confession. “My friend Willow won the competition. She was very sick yesterday and asked me to fill in for her. So I did. I’m sorry I lied, but I didn’t ever expect that we would…or that you would be so…amazing.”

Having run out of things to say Buffy stood silently. He hadn’t moved a muscle since she started talking and she began to fidget nervously, unable to meet his stunned gaze.

“Did you lie about anything else?” he asked abruptly.

“No,” she quickly replied. “Just my name.”

“You made that whole speech about me not putting on a front.”

Buffy cringed at the memory. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Spike eyed her warily, as if he was trying to read her mind for anything else he should know. Then a thought occurred to him. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

Buffy almost screamed in frustration. As if she hadn’t heard that question enough today! “I don’t know. I wanted to, but when you kissed me I…I just panicked.”

“That’s why you slammed the door in my face?” He pointed at her accusingly.

“I didn’t slam it,” she clarified. “I closed it, quietly.”

Spike paced around the balcony as a hundred thoughts clamoured for his attention. “I knew there was something going on,” he muttered, as if talking to himself. “You kissed me back, I know you did. But then you just up and ran. I thought I was wrong and you didn’t feel…”

“I felt it,” she told him quietly. His pacing stopped abruptly as he turned to look at her. Awareness passed between them and Buffy felt her heart begin to race as her body reacted. Looking down she continued, “I’m know you’re angry with me but…”

“I didn’t say I was angry,” Spike pointed out, cutting her off.

“Aren’t you?”

He thought for a moment before responding. “Angry’s too strong a word,” he told her. “More like…disappointed.”

Buffy nodded, eyed focused on the ground between them. She was glad she had told him, but sad that it would end like this.

Seeing her defeated pose Spike reached out to lift her chin, forcing her to look at him. His blue eyes bore into her with an intensity that made her shiver. “I get why you did it, but I don’t like it when people lie to me. Promise you won’t do it again.”

Hope flared in her chest and she held he gaze steadily when she replied, “I promise.”

He nodded curtly, seeming to accept her words. Then he asked, “What is your name?”

“Buffy Summers,” she replied with a grin.

“Buffy.”

“Yes.”

“Maybe you should have stuck with Willow,” he said with a smirk.

She snorted and slapped his arm playfully. “I suppose I deserved that didn’t I?”

He laughed and tugged her closer. “You so did.” Taking her head between his hands he planted a chaste kiss on her lips. “Alright then love,” he said when they parted. “I’ll call you Buffy if you call me Spike.”

“Spike?” she replied with a confused frown.

“Yeah,” he smiled at her, “It’s a nickname. Only people close to me call me Spike.”

“So I’ll be getting close to you then?” she asked, smiling shyly up at him.

“I hope so Buffy. In more ways than one.” With that he took her hand and led her back into the club.

Chapter Seven

“So what happened then?” Willow’s excited voice squealed so loudly Buffy had to hold the phone away from her ear.

“He wished Dawn a happy birthday, said goodbye and left.”

“That’s it?”

Buffy shrugged, “Yep. I think he didn’t want to intrude on Dawn’s night or something. But I did invite him over to dinner tonight and he said yes.”

“Oh no Buffy, you aren’t cooking are you?” The sudden distressed tone made Buffy roll her eyes.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence Will,” she laughed at her friend. “But it’s this dish Mom used to make and it never looked very difficult so I’m sure it will be fine.”

Silence.

“Willow I’m not going to poison him!”

“No, of course not,” Willow jumped in. “It’s just, well you know, you were never very good in a kitchen. But I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Yes. Everything will be perfect,” Buffy replied, suddenly not so convinced.

**********

Buffy placed her favourite vase in the centre of the table with a smile. The single yellow rose was the perfect touch. She’d dragged out every good piece of crockery, cutlery and glassware she owned. Her mother’s crystal candle holders, with two long-stemmed white candles, flanked the vase. A jazz CD filtered softly throughout the room.

Glancing at the clock she ducked back into the kitchen to check on the stove. The saucepan of water was boiling rapidly, so she dropped in the spaghetti and then stirred the sizzling bacon.

A slight squeak erupted when the doorbell rang and Buffy rolled her eyes at her own nervousness. Taking a deep breath she glanced down to check her dress and then headed purposefully for the door.

“Good evening Miss Summers.”

The smile he gave her took her breath away and she groaned inwardly as she heard herself giggle. Grow up Buffy! This man is famous. Pulling back her shoulders she tried again. “Good evening Spike. Please come in.”

As he entered he drew his hand from behind his back to reveal a bunch of red roses. “For you.” He told her.

Buffy smiled up at him. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

As he leaned in she let her eyes drift closed as she waited for his kiss. And waited. And waited. Finally she opened her eyes to find him sniffing at the air with a frown. “Is something burning?”

“Oh no,” Buffy exclaimed as she made a dash for the kitchen. Placing the flowers on the counter she turned to the stove and cried out in dismay. The bottom half of the spaghetti was happily cooking in the bubbling water, while the top half had drooped over the side of the pot and turned black.

Cursing, Buffy turned off the burners and dumped the pot into the sink with a disgusted thud.

“Is everything alright pet?”

Red-faced with embarrassment Buffy gave Spike a chagrined look. “Well…umm…no not really. I kind of ruined dinner.”

Coming closer Spike spied the pot of spaghetti and let out a low whistle. “Wow, I didn’t know you could do that to spaghetti.”

“Yeah,” Buffy replied irritably. “I’ve been known to make miracles happen in the kitchen. Just not the edible kind.”

Spike lifted her chin and smiled down into watery green eyes. “Don’t worry love. It happens to the best of us. Doesn’t really matter none.”

“But it does matter,” Buffy cried out in frustration. “I wanted everything to be perfect and this was the one dish I thought I could handle.” Pausing only long enough to take a breath she continued, “You’re William Rafe for goodness sake. You’re probably used to dining in 5-star restaurants with supermodels or something.” Suddenly running out of things to say Buffy fell silent. She cringed inwardly as Spike frowned at her from the other side of the kitchen.

“That’s who you think I am?” he asked quietly.

Buffy sighed, regretting her careless words, and walked closer to him. “No. Not when I’m with you.” She shrugged. “I’ve known you’re name and your face for like three years now, but I’ve only spent a few hours with you. Guess I’m still wrapping my head around the person.” She looked at the floor dejectedly. “I just wanted to impress you.”

Spike smiled at the top of her head. “You already impressed me. That’s why I’m here.”

Buffy couldn’t help but blush at his compliment.

“Here’s the thing,” he said. “Out there in the big, wide world I’m William Rafe. But with you…I just want to be me.”

“Well in that case,” Buffy grinned. “Can I ask you something personal?”

“What would you like to know pet?”

With a quick flick of her wrist Buffy was suddenly holding up a phone. “How do you feel about pizza?”

**********

Several hours later Buffy and Spike were sprawled comfortably on the lounge room floor. Empty pizza boxes had been pushed aside as Spike became engrossed in examining Buffy’s small but eclectic CD collection.

“Really?” Buffy was currently screwing up her nose in a show of mild disgust that Spike found adorable. “Punk rock?”

“Well not only punk rock. But I like it, yeah,” Spike replied defiantly.

Buffy snorted.

“Hey. Anyone that has The Best of Janet Jackson in their CD rack can’t scoff at my taste love.”

A pretty blush flushed her cheeks as she said pointedly, “That was a gift.” Rising off the floor she headed toward the kitchen. “How about some dessert?”

Spike smiled mischievously, “That depends. Did you make it?”

Buffy swung around with a gasp, her hands on her hips. Then, to his complete surprise, she poked her tongue out at him and disappeared into the kitchen.

Spike laughed, even as he felt himself hardening. What he would love to do with that pink, little tongue. Biting back a groan he gulped down the rest of his wine and lay down on his back. Concentrating on the ceiling he tried to will away his aching erection, failing as images of Buffy using her tongue in oh so pleasurable ways flickered in his brain.

“Are you okay?”

Suddenly she was kneeling beside him, a concerned frown marring her beautiful features.

Hoping she hadn’t noted his…err, condition…he sat up and gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m better than okay. What have you got there?”

“You have a choice. Choc-Mint. Or Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough.” She shrugged. “I like chocolate.”

“I’ll take the mint.” Accepting the small tub Spike tried to force himself not to stare as she sucked ice cream off her spoon.

“Would you like to try some of this one?” When she nodded he scooped out some of the ice cream and brought it to her mouth, watching avidly as her lips closed around the creamy substance.

Sneaking her spoon into his tub she fed him a spoonful and then, to his delight, she leaned in to lick a stray drop from his lips. Spike groaned in relief at her touch. Moving closer they continued to feed each other, and taste each other, until the last of the melting ice cream was gone.

Setting the cartons aside Spike drew her into his lap for a leisurely kiss. Then, nuzzling her neck, he murmured, “That was the best ice cream I’ve ever had in my life.”

Giggling, Buffy pulled back to rest her forehead against his. “Me too.”

Gazing into her eyes Spike felt his desire for her growing hotter. His fingers danced up and down her arms, hungry for more. The urge to turn her in his lap so he could feel her long legs around him was almost overpowering. Quickly he set her back on the floor and began to stand up. “I should go.”

Disappointment flashed in Buffy’s eyes and she scrambled to her feet, her confusion apparent. “Already? You don’t want to stay for coffee?”

Spike cupped her cheek, his eyes burning into hers. “Love if I don’t go now you might not get rid of me at all.”

“Oh.” Understanding was followed quickly by lust in the flashing green depths of her eyes; but she didn’t reach for him. That told him all he needed to know. She wasn’t ready yet. He wanted her to be ready.

She walked him to the door and for a moment they paused awkwardly in the doorway. “Good night Spike,” Buffy said quietly.

Her lips were slightly swollen from his kisses, her hair tousled from his fingers. In that moment he thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Unable to help himself Spike reached for her again. Drawing her close he captured her mouth in a fierce kiss. Her arms encircled his neck and he groaned. Sliding his hands down to cup her bottom, he pressed her tightly against his aching loins, drinking in her moan of pleasure. Spike knew he was sinking fast and that if he didn’t stop now his eager fingers would soon be searching for the zipper on her dress. Pulling away from her was almost painful. They were both breathing heavily when he took her hands in his, kissing the palms before reluctantly letting her go. “Good night Buffy. Sweet dreams.” Turning to walk toward the lift Spike smiled when he heard her whimper softly at his parting words.


A/N: Yes you can do that with spaghetti because I have done it. Thankfully I'm a better cook now. Please let me know what you think of the story. Happiness and spuffies to all. - flibble