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A/N At this point I've started adding more of my own plot. However, Buffy and Owen do still go on their date, and most of the episode is unchanged.


Spike pressed the pause button on the remote control and went over to the fridge to pour himself some blood. Things were not going well.

He and the Slayer had agreed to start training together in a couple days. He knew he needed to prepare for it. He needed to be able to show her that he knew more than her about fighting, without tipping his hand to the fact he was a vampire.

Of course he'd known that would be a problem right away, so since he'd arrived in Sunnydale he'd taken to following her when she patrolled and filming her fights. The idea was that he would learn her fighting style. Be able to analyze her moves, find consistent mistakes.

What he hadn't counted on was the raging hard-ons he got every time he watched her fight. It shouldn't have surprised him, after all ever since that long ago night when Drusilla had turned him, he'd been attracted to violence and violent women.

Not that it was a problem here in his own home, but what would happen when he was training her. What if she noticed him hard then. She might be the Slayer, but she was also a teenage girl. He didn't want to offend or frighten her.

The microwave beeped, and he took his cup of blood back to the chair in front of the TV. He started the tape up again, took a sip of blood, and unzipped his jeans, slipping them down off his hips.

He wrapped his fingers around the length of his cock and began to stroke up and down as he watched the screen. That's it baby, he thought, show me what you've got. Show me all those beautiful muscles just begging to be used. The tape he was watching had been filmed right before she'd gone to the Bronze one night, and she was wearing one of those short little sun-dresses she loved and knee high boots.

What a show she must give them, he thought, what a way to go with your last sight being up that short skirt. His hand began to move faster. Whenever it reached the head of cock, he rubbed his thumb over the tip. He began to squeeze himself harder as his hips raised up off the chair.

Careful luv, he thought, she'd delivered a rather sloppy kick. Someone might grab that leg of yours and knock you to the ground.

His eyes lost focus. He was no longer watching the screen, but imagining her underneath him. Her tight, hot, slayer muscles squeezing his cock till he thought he would burst. Another few strokes and he came.

He sat there without moving for a few minutes. Just enjoying the sensation. He knew he'd have to do this several times before he fought her if he wanted to hide his lust from her.

********************************

After his unsuccessful night waiting for the Anointed One to rise, Giles opened his mail box. He had finally given in and let Buffy go to the Bronze. What would it take to get her to except the seriousness of her calling? Now she wanted to date?

Absently Giles looked through his mail, most of it was junk, then he came across a manila envelope that had come from England. His heart leaped. The diary he had requested had arrived! But why would the Council send it through the regular post? Such a valuable item surely should have been insured.

He carefully opened the envelope, but to his disappointment, instead of a small leather journal, he found only a letter, and a large stapled report. The letter read:

Dear Mr. Giles,

The Council regrets to inform you that at this time The Diary of Malcolm Forrester can not be released to the general public. However, The Council wishes to in no way impede the efforts of the Active Watcher, therefore we have sent you the official record on Nikki Wood. We wish you all the best luck.

Sincerely,
Quentin Travers

Bloody hell, though Giles. I don't need the official report. I don't need to know how many vampires she slew, or what demons she faced, I need to know how her Watcher dealt with her.

Giles was livid. He went to poor himself a drink. He'd been so proud of himself when he had remembered hearing his father talk about how much trouble Forrester had had dealing with his Slayer. Nikki Wood had been the last American Slayer, and it had occurred to Giles that perhaps by reading her Watcher's diary he could find some hints as to how to deal with his own reticent Slayer.

Why would the Council refuse to send him the diary? It was a common enough request, not to mention that Giles was hardly the general public, he was the Active Watcher. He was supposed to have all the resources of the Council behind him so that he could aid his Slayer in fighting the forces of darkness.

He could feel a little of his old rebellious streak returning. How dare the Council try and sensor him. What could possibly be in Forrester's diary that they felt they needed to hide from him?

He picked up the phone. "Hello yes, Mrs. Rosenberg, this is Rupert Giles from the school library. Is your daughter Willow there?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that. I just wanted to check with her about a book she had requested we order for a history project."

"Yes, I can wait. Thank you."

"Willow,"

"No, it's nothing like that, actually I had a personal favor to ask of you."

"Yes, you see I'm trying to track down an old friend of my father's. His name is Malcolm Forrester."

"No, no idea. The last I heard from him he was living in New York City. But that was quite some time ago."

"Yes I understand. I'm sure whatever you can find will be a great help to me. Thank you."

********************************

This was the last place Spike wanted to be. He wanted to be back in his apartment *preparing* for his training session with the Slayer. Not looking for her in the Bronze to warn her of some silly prophecy that was supposed to have happened last night anyway. Either Malcolm was starting to slip, or he had decided not to give Spike a heads up, so that Spike wouldn't mess with his bloody prophecies. Spike didn't know which one bothered him more.

He saw Buffy standing by the stairs to the catwalk and headed over to her.

"Hello pet," Spike said to Buffy.

"Spike," she said, even colder than normal.

"I was hoping I'd find you here."

"You were?"

"There's supposed to be some new big noise, The Anointed One, out there. Thought you should know."

"No, not you, too," she said as she tried to leave.

"What do you know?"

"Pretty much what you said. Prophecy, Anointed One, yada, yada, yada. . . "

"So you know. Good. Just thought I'd warn you."

"Warn me? You see that guy over there at the bar?" she said, pointing out Owen, "He came here to be with me."

"You're here on a date?" he asked. He was a little hurt, but at the same time he was glad. It's not like she has anything more than a school girl crush on you, mate, he told himself. Much better for her to be pursuing guys her own age. Let her live a little before nasty death comes to get her.

"Yes! Why is it such a shock to everyone?"

"Here you go," Owen said returning.

"Oh," Buffy looked back and forth between the two men, "Um, Owen, this is Spike. Spike, this is Owen," she said putting her arm around him, "Who is my date."

"Nice to meet you," Spike said.

"Hey! So. Where do you know Buffy from?" Owen asked.

"Met her at her mum's gallery," Spike said. The moment he'd said it, he knew it was a mistake. Buffy had never mentioned her mom to him, and she certainly didn't know that Spike had gone to her mother's gallery to get in good with Joyce. He figured sooner or later his path was bound to cross with the older Summers woman, and life was always easier if a girl's mom liked you.

Luckily, before Buffy could question him, Willow and Xander came running up, out of breath.

"Buffy!" Willow said.

"Look at this. You show up everywhere. Interesting." Owen said.

Xander pointed at Owen, "You don't know the half of it," then pointing at Spike, "What's he doing here?"

"I guess it's the same thing you're doin' here," Spike said.

"Uh, excuse me, what are ANY of you doing here?" Buffy asked.

Xander started up, "Look, we gotta get to, uh. . . " Willow kicked him, "Uhhhh. We thought it'd be fun if, uh, we made this a double date!"

Willow and Xander put their arms around each other.

"I didn't know you guys were seeing each other." Buffy said, obviously not believing them.

"Oh, yeah, well, we knew it would happen eventually, so we figured, hey! Why fight it?" Willow explained.

"And you guys are thinking double?" Owen asked.

"Cause of. . . " Xander laughed nervously, ". . . the fun!"

Owen turned to Spike, "And you're here because of art buying?"

"Hey, maybe we should all go somewhere together," Xander said.

"Gee, that's so nice of you to ask," Buffy said, "but Owen and I were, well, sort of. . . Owen and I."

"You know what'd be cool? The Sunnydale Funeral Home!" Xander said.

"I've always wanted to go there!" Willow played along.

"The funeral home?" Buffy asked, unable to believe this was happening to her.

"Actually, that sounds kinda cool!" Owen said, "Do you think we could all sneak in?"

"We saw some guys in there before. They seemed to be having fun!" Xander said to Buffy.

"Bite me!" Buffy said to herself. Then she looked at Spike. He just shrugged and gave her his best apologetic look. Then she turned back to Owen, "Um, Owen, I gotta go."

"I thought we were going to the funeral home" Owen said.

"No, you can't. I'll tell you what. I'll be back in a little while" Buffy said.

"Buffy. . . " Owen said, leading her away from the others, "What's the deal? Do you wanna bail on me?"

"No! No. . . no. . . uh. . . You remember when you said I was like two different people? Well, one of them has to go. But the other one is having a really, really good time, and will come back. I promise."

Owen just nodded his head and watched her go. She came back and laid a kiss on him. Then she really left with Willow and Xander close behind.

Owen turned to Spike, "She's the strangest girl!"





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