Author's Chapter Notes:
I've got a little Spuffy for you. This will be complete in three or four parts. I've got it just about fully written, so the posts will come quickly.
Thanks to Puddinhead for giving this a read. She is beyond wonderful.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Buffy stared at the mysterious objects under the hood of her car. She couldn’t name more than a couple of them, but figured looking under the hood was simply what a person did when their car didn’t start.

“My favorite too.”

“What?” She lifted her head and turned to glare in the direction of the voice only to be caught deer-in-the headlights-style by the too blue eyes of one Spike Pratt. Her knees very nearly gave out beneath her. She tightened her grip on the car.

“Curse word.”

She just stared. The man was even prettier standing in bright sunlight than he was was sitting in class. His bleach enhanced hair nearly glowed. It should have looked silly or maybe rough, like he was a punk and a delinquent. Instead, it put Buffy to thinking about halos. She knew her friends would have a field day if she admitted that. Of course that would be nothing new. Buffy’s awkward naivete regarding men was a constant source of entertainment for her nearest and dearest.

He grinned. “Do you need a hand?”

“Huh?”

“With the car. I could take a look if you’d like.” He tilted his head toward the car sending the shadows on his face dancing over his sharp cheekbones and full lips.

She nodded until the ability to speak returned to her. “Please. That would be great.” She laughed softly. “I don’t even know what I’m looking at here.”

“No problem, love.”

He’d called her love. She might have to change her name. Buffy watched in awe as he quickly tugged his pale blue t-shirt off and tucked it into his back pocket of his well-worn jeans. Her mouth went dry. “So nice...of you to look for me --at the car--my car which won’t start.” She was nodding again. She really had to stop nodding. Swallowing a whimper, she stepped out of his way.

He took her place in front of the engine and immediately began checking fluids and other underhood happenings.

She stared at his back. She’d done so before, but never when he wasn’t wearing a shirt. No shirt was a really good look for him. When he reached out, the muscles moved and stretched beneath his pale skin with a sexy fluidity. Her gaze dropped to his denim-clad ass and she licked her lips. She figured it was official at that point: she was a bad person. He was trying to help her and she couldn’t resist ogling his rear end. Buffy wanted very much to believe she was a stronger, better person, but if she couldn’t pull her gaze away from the man’s glutes she was going to have to accept otherwise. “I’m...umm...I just need to call my friend and tell her I’ll be late.” She hurried over to the sidewalk and around the corner of the large brick building that housed most of the science department of Sunnydale Community College.

She yanked the slim silver cellphone out of her back pocket and tapped on the picture of a brunette with a movie star smile.When her friend, Cordelia, answered she launched into a breathless recounting of her situation.

Cordelia stopped her half way through. “The hot one from your Biology class?”

“Yuhuh.”

“Nice. Why aren’t you standing next to him saying super grateful things and laughing at his crappy jokes?”

“He’s kind of a man-of-few-words type, besides...” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “He took off his shirt.”

“And?”

“In a word: yum.”

“So go. Talk to him. Flirt. And most importantly: get laid before it grows back and you’re like a reborn virgin.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“It’s just an expression.”

“I know. I meant the talking. I don’t so much seem to have the ability to say actual words.”

Cordelia laughed throatily. “That hot?”

“That hot.”

“This is not a real person problem, Buffy. Go talk to the hot guy trying to fix your car. Now.”

Buffy bit her lip and nodded. “You’re right. I can...do that. I can—What if I can’t do that? I’m pretty sure I can’t do that.”



Seeing no option other than jumping her battery, Spike walked over to tell her the news. He stopped a few feet away in an effort to give the girl some privacy but couldn’t help moving a little closer when he heard her reporting that he’d taken off his shirt. And that she’d appreciated the view.

It was all way too good to be true. He’d given up trying to pay attention in Bio lecture weeks ago. Frankly, he didn’t understand how anyone could with a girl as distractingly sensual as Buffy Summers in the room. Something about her reduced him to the bundle of anxiety and wistfulness he’d been back at the start of puberty. If she hadn’t had such a strange power over him, he’d have simply talked her into his bed and gotten her out of his system. It wasn’t like he was going to school on a lark. Spike was paying his own tuition. He was there to learn, not gawk at pretty girls.

But once again, lecture had ended and he’d looked down at his notebook to see a blank page. Today though, it seemed fate had stepped in. The time it took him to go by the library and check out the lecture note archive meant that he was the only one still around to see Buffy staring at the engine of her car as though it might leap out at her like an alien in a Ridley Scott film. It was his in and he’d intended to make the best of it. Though, from the sound of her telephone chat, he hadn’t even needed one. Imagine that.

He leaned against the brick wall and waited for her to come back around the corner, taking a touch of a mischievous pleasure at her look of surprise upon finding him so close.

“I think I gotta jump you.”

Her big green eyes went wide. “Huh?”

Spike struggled to fake an innocent expression. “Your battery is dead. I’ll give it a jump. I’ve got cables in my boot.”

“Some of that made sense.”

He laughed. “Come on. I’ll need a hand.”

Spike pulled his car up close to hers and tried to keep things serious while he explained the process and checked to make sure all the lights, radios and wipers were turned off in their cars. He let his hand brush down the length of her arm as he attached the cables. She shuddered and he was forced to think about the serious unpleasantness of helping his grandfather cut his toenails in order to avoid becoming visibly aroused.

“Alright, then. You’ll want to stand clear.” He cupped her elbow gently and guided her a few steps away from the cars before yanking open the driver side door of his lovingly restored DeSoto and starting the engine. He set it up to idle and hopped back out. “Let’s give it a few minutes.”

Buffy nodded. “Thank you. This is--I’m sure you have better things to be doing.”

“Just glad I was here. Place is looking close to deserted.”

She smiled and Spike could have sworn the surrounding area brightened. “Friday afternoon at a commuter school.” She held out her hand. “I’m Buffy. Actually, I’m in your--”

“Biology lecture. I know who you are, ducks.”

“Oh.” Her expression was hard to read: surprise, maybe. She smelled like strawberries, fresh and sweet. He wouldn’t have thought that would be sexy, but it was.

He carefully took her hand and shook. “I’m Spike.”

“Pratt.” She laughed. “I know.”

“Right.” He looked down at the hand he was still clutching and turned it slowly to study her brightly painted fingernails. He brushed the pad of his thumb over the slick, aqua blue surfaces of three nails. “Cute.”

Making no effort to pull her hand away, she shrugged. “A friend of mine is studying cosmetology. She practices on me a lot.”

“The friend you just called?”

“No, that was Cordy. She’s definitely more the hiring type than the working type. Like a queen bee, you know?”

“And you?”

“Worker bee.”

“A worker bee with pretty hands? I don’t know if I buy that.”

She blushed, releasing a tantalizing pink lemonade hue that crept up her sweetly rounded cheeks. Damn, but he wanted a taste.

“So what are you going to be late for?”

“What?” Her brow wrinkled.

“What are you plannin’ to do with the queen bee this evening?”

“Oh. Nothing really. Nothing important.”

“So you were basically just phoning to tell her that I took off my shirt.”

She gasped and tugged her hand back. “What? I didn’t—you heard?”

“I heard.”

“Oh, god.” She started to turn away.

Spike grasped her elbow and leaned close. “Don’t be embarrassed, love. Not like I was actually concerned about getting grease on an old t-shirt.”

Still wide-eyed, she looked up at him. “You weren’t?”

“Nah. I was just hoping you might notice some of that time I’ve been spending in the campus weight room.”

“I noticed.” Her lips twitched before settling on a shy smile.

Spike couldn’t help wondering just how confident his own grin was looking. It was not a concern he’d had in a long time. Something about Buffy brought out the nerd he’d long since buried under punk band tees and leather. “Let’s give this a try, yeah?”

“Give…”

“Your car. Wanna try starting her up?”

“Oh! Right. Of course.” She nodded quickly before darting towards her driver’s side door.

Spike followed her over and watched with satisfaction as her engine started easily. “Brilliant. Just make sure you don’t let her stop too soon.”

“Thank you so much. Really--I don’t know what I would’ve done. Thanks.”

“Not a problem, Buffy.” It was time to go for it, to see just how interested she was. “I could follow you to your place if you like—make sure you don’t have any more problems. I’d hate to have you get stuck on the roadside.”

“Do you think there might be problems still?”

He couldn’t lie. “No. I think you’re all set as long as you let the engine run for a few and charge up the battery. But, if you’d feel safer…I’m not in a rush to get anywhere.”

“I would. I mean, if you’re sure you don’t mind. I don’t live too far from here and I would feel a lot better if you were…”

“Close?”

“Yeah.” She was getting a little breathless.

“Alright.” Spike reached over and brushed a piece of hair back behind her ear. The back of his thumb slid down her cheek. She seemed a tad startled by his touch, but not, he thought, upset. “Give me a mo’ to undo the cables and I’ll follow you.”


Chapter End Notes:
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