“Oh my god,” Buffy groaned as the heavy, greasy smell assaulted her nose. “What is that?”
“Bacon,” Spike said proudly as if he’d just found a goldmine.
Buffy stared at the small white building dubiously. The place was nothing spectacular or even remotely appealing and the smell…good god the smell was overwhelming. She glanced at Spike who was happily walking into the diner.
She followed him reluctantly as he sat down in a red plastic booth and took two menus from between the salt and pepper and the napkin dispenser. Spike handed her a menu and Buffy opened it, looking at all the greasy choices.
A waitress dressed a white apron with orthopedic shoes walked over to them and gave Spike a smile, revealing crooked teeth. “Hey, darlin’. Ready to order?”
“Hey Doris,” Spike replied with a smile, “I’ll have my usual.”
Doris turned to Buffy, with an expectant look on her cake-frosting face.
“Um…” Buffy glanced at the menu again, “I’ll have scrambled eggs and toast with some water.”
Doris nodded and turned back to Spike with another smile. “You’re food’ll be out in a few.”
As soon as the waitress disappeared into the back, Buffy turned to Spike. “I can’t believe you’re known here,” she hissed.
“I’ve been going here since dad moved us to Sunnyhell. They serve breakfast all day,” Spike shrugged, “I like it.”
Buffy leaned back in her seat. “Doris seems to really like you,” she teased, watching Spike’s face as he smirked a little.
“Well I’m just a likeable bloke,” he replied easily.
Buffy snorted. “Yeah right.” She took the straw wrapper on the table and started fiddling with it.
“Hey!” Spike protested, but his still had a grin on his face. “You don’t think I’m…likeable?” his tone was slightly suggestive and Buffy made a face.
“I don’t think you’re anything,” she responded, emphasizing her double meaning.
Spike just cocked his scarred brow. “Really?”
“Really,” Buffy confirmed. She silently marveled at their harmless banter that was starting to border on flirting. How exactly had that happened? Gotta change the topic, she decided.
“So, Giles said you guys moved here from England. What was it like?”
“Moving?” Spike asked, knowing what she really meant.
“No,” Buffy rolled her eyes. “England.”
Spike shrugged. “Rainy. We lived just outside of London in a nice house that my mum had inherited.”
Was it her imagination or did Spike tense up a little? Buffy wondered. “Where is she, your mom?”
Spike’s gaze drifted down to the table. “She died when I was ten.”
Buffy blinked, embarrassed. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t…sorry,” she stuttered.
“It happened along time ago,” was Spike’s response. There was a brief silence before Spike questioned her. “You were living in LA, right?”
Buffy nodded with a slight frown. “Yeah?”
“So, tell me about it,” Spike said, crossing his arms. He was looking at her, waiting for…what exactly?
Buffy tapped her fingers on the table. “Um…”
“Here’s your food,” Doris announced, setting down two steaming plates in front of them with two glasses of water. “Anything else?”
Buffy shook her head and Spike added, “No thanks.” Doris nodded and walked off to the next table.
Stalling, Buffy took several bites of her eggs, which weren’t that bad. “Mmm…these are good,” she said, sounding surprised.
Spike nodded in agreement, shoveling his pancakes into his mouth. “Yeah,” he swallowed, “they’ve always had good food. The head cook, Melinda, has been working here for over fifty years.”
“You know the cook?” Buffy asked incredulously.
“I told you I come here a lot,” Spike reminded her. “Now, come on tell me, what’s it like living in LA?”
Buffy shrugged, hesitant. “You know, busy, lots of people. It’s LA. Best thing is being near all the awesome shoes.”
Spike grimaced at her shoes comment. “That’s it? Shoes? What the bleedin’ hell did you do all the time, shop?”
“Um…yeah kinda,” Buffy admitted, taking a sip of her water and glared at him suspiciously. “Why are you asking, anyway?”
Spike feigned innocence. “It’s customary when two people live together to know about each other.”
Buffy rolled her eyes as she took another bite of toast. “Yeah right. Seriously, why are you asking?”
Spike’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I can’t ask? What if I just wanna know?”
“That’s a stupid answer,” Buffy snapped quickly. She jabbed at her eggs, no longer hungry.
Spike snorted. “No it’s not. But what you just said was a stupid retort.”
Buffy shook her head at him. “Why do you keep pressing this?” she asked.
For a second Spike faltered. “Maybe…I may have judged you a little…harshly,” he shrugged, “or not.”
“Wow, charming,” she said sarcastically, finishing her water.
“Hey, I’ve known you for, what, less than a week?” Spike reminded her, “I don’t really know you and it’s not like you’re all that forthcoming with the details.”
“Fine,” Buffy replied, tilting her chin defiantly. “Let’s get to know each other. Let’s be the bestest of buds.” She gave him a mock-saccharine grin and then glared at him.
“See, that’s not really all that encouraging,” Spike said in response, pointing at her with his fork.
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Do you really care that much?”
“Well…” Spike began, “no.” He sighed. “But your mum and my dad like each other a lot, and I know somewhere inside of you, you want is best for your mum,” he paused, adding quietly, “especially with everything that happened with your dad. So I figure, we try to make nice and make them believe in their happy family.”
There was a moment before Buffy responded. “Okay,” she stopped and then added, “but that doesn’t mean I particularly like you very much.”
Spike couldn’t help but grin a little and cocked his head. “Mutual.”
***************
After the two blondes finished their early dinner, Spike drove Buffy back and dropped her off, claiming he had something to do.
With the house to herself, Buffy decided to indulge in her favorite activity, sketching. It’d been a while since she’d really worked on a drawing with her full set of pencils and was eager to use the lushness of the backyard with its massive trees as her subject.
She was looking through her drawing materials when she realized the last sketchbook she’d brought still had all the pictures of him in it. Buffy set the book back into the box. She definitely didn’t want to look at those today.
Instead, Buffy settled for some unlined paper from the computer room. It was far from the best paper to use and she didn’t know where her mother stored her own sketching materials so this would have to do.
Buffy wandered out to the back porch and sat down on the swing, ready to draw. Her hand easily moved across the paper by instinct, catching with broad strokes the trunk and branches of the trees. She worked on the finer details, smudging the charcoal and drawing with short little flicks of her pencil.
She was so immersed into her drawing; she missed the ringing of her cell phone beside her until the fourth ring. Picking it up, Buffy brought it up to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Buffy?” She knew that voice- it was Willow.
“Hey! What’s up?” Buffy greeted warmly, setting her papers aside and curling up on the bench.
“Nothing really. So, how did cross-country go?” Willow asked, sounding eager.
“What? Fred didn’t tell you?” Buffy responded, knowing the brunette must have said something.
“Okay,” Willow admitted, “she did but I wanna hear it again.”
Buffy laughed. “Okay, well first we…”
******
Willow had laughed when she heard that Buffy had actually beaten Spike in the impromptu race.
“Was he super mad?” Willow asked after another burst of laughter.
“Actually, not really. We went out to eat,” Buffy responded thoughtfully.
Willow was silent for a moment and Buffy thought maybe she’d hung up.
“Willow?” Buffy asked cautiously, “You there?”
“Yeah,” the redhead responded, clearing her throat. “Was it a…date?” The last word was almost whispered but Buffy heard it clearly.
“No Way!” Buffy said firmly. “It was the furthest thing from a date. We just went to get something to eat,” she paused, unsure how to ask her next question. “Willow, you never really told me earlier, do you…like Spike? As in romantically?”
“Well…” Willow halted briefly, “it’s more of an ‘I used to’ thing. I don’t know. Besides, he’d never really like a girl like me.”
Buffy frowned. “A girl like what? Smart, funny and pretty?”
“Buffy, come on, I’m a total nerd,” Willow said dejectedly.
“No you’re not!” Buffy instantly responded, feeling bad for her friend. “Nerds don’t go to the Bronze or have friends. They stay at home and stare at the computer for hours.”
“I’m on the chess team and the mathalete program,” Willow reminded the blonde.
“So?” Buffy shot back, “It means you’re smart not a nerd.”
“I don’t know…” Willow trailed off.
“Listen, you don’t have to answer this, but do you also like…Xander?” Buffy asked, hoping she was prying.
“No!” Willow said immediately. “Well, I did up until freshman year. Then it sort of disappeared; I guess it was kinda stupid to hold on. He only ever thought of me as friend, nothing more.”
“Willow, you need to stop thinking guys won’t like you,” Buffy reprimanded. “Now you’ve officially given me a job. I’m going to get you a boyfriend.”
“No, no, no,” Willow protested. “That’s a bad idea.”
“Why?” Buffy asked. “Come on, you’ve gotta have your eye on someone.”
She could almost see Willow biting her lip.
“Well,” she began, “there’s this guy, Oz. He’s a senior and plays for The Dingoes Ate My Baby.” The excitement in Willow’s voice picked up. “He’s playing tonight at the Bronze!”
Buffy nodded, satisfied. “Good. That’s where we’re going tonight and you’re gonna talk to Mr. Hottie. Now, all we have to do is find something fabulous for you to wear.”