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A MURDER IN SUNNYDALE



Chapter 13: ‘The Date’


A/N: Still no response button on my home computer.
Please give this fic a read??? (Please)

This chapter is for the sole purpose of building the Spuffy relationship. I hope someone reads and enjoys this. Please review. Thanks, Luv Spuf


Buffy practically skipped out of work, at precisely 1:45 PM that Saturday afternoon. She was on her way to her rather homely little lime green Porshe, and then on to Anya’s dress shop. The owner, Anya herself, had called Buffy early that very morning to inform her that she had found the perfect red dress for her dinner date that night. A size 3 no less and everything that Buffy wanted in the dress. Daring but classy; cut low in back, decent in front and most of all ‘deadly.’

After picking up the ‘dress’ that Anya had chosen for her, Buffy headed home for a nap and to prepare for this date tonight. Spike had called, earlier while she was at work, to firm up their plans. If Buffy was surprised at her date’s choice of a restaurant, she quickly overcame it. He, Spike, had arranged a reservation for them at Sunnydale’s own ‘Bayou Bistro’ and that in itself was almost a miracle. Spike was to pick Buffy up at 7:00 PM and spirit her off to the magnificent Bistro for supper at 7:30.

“Wow,” Buffy gasped as she had hung up the phone with Spike earlier, “that’s amazing. I don’t think even Angel O’Connor could have gotten reservations on such short notice at the ‘Bayou’ not in a day, anyway.”

Something about Spike’s pull in Sunnydale nagged at Buffy, just a little, but she pushed her fears aside and prepared her nice, relaxing bath.

Spike nervously paced about in his hotel suite, smoking one cigarette after another. ‘I’m hopeless,’ he derided himself. ‘Fucking 35 years old and stumbling about like a school boy on his first date.’ What was it about Buffy Summers that did this to him? He had only just met the woman (note here, Spike thinks of Buffy as a woman, not a girl!!!) but she had managed to turn his life around in just a matter of days.

He decided to take another shower, especially after smoking like a bloody chimeny for the last hour. “Don’t want Buffy to smell so much smoke on me,” he sighed with consideration, “she doesn’t like cigarette smoke. It’s obvious.”

Spike had chosen the most elegant black silk button down shirt he could find to wear tonight. ‘I’ll probably shock the poor thing,’ he chuckled to himself as he eyed the shirt and pants he’d chosen.

‘All’s poor Buffy has ever seen me in in mostly black Levis, black tee shirts and my leather duster. She just might freak out over the change!’ He laughed joyfully as he stripped down to take another shower for their date tonight.

Buffy lay back in her massive tub and relaxed against the cool tile. She had mixed vanilla and lavendar bath oils into the near hot water, to soak in. After her bath, she would wash her hair, seperately, with vanilla scented shampoo, her favorite scent, and let is dry on it’s own. No hair dryer tonight, just air dried. Then, she planned to wear it down, curled just ever so slightly.

Her makeup would be perfect. Smokey hues, but a red lipstick to match the shade of the ‘deadly’ dress. As she settled back into the tub, again, thinking of Spike’s reaction to her appearance, Buffy sighed with contentment, ‘Mr. William Williamson,’ Buffy giggled into the air about her, ‘you are so toast.’

Spike was showered, again, changed into his attire for the evening and was just about to gel back his naturally curly hair, when his cell phone rang. ‘God,’ he flinched anxiously, ‘if this is Buffy, canceling our date…I’ll go over to that apartment of hers and…’

“Spike, it’s Wesley,” came his cousin’s clipped voice over the cell line. “I’ve got some really interesting news for you, cousin. Just came across it. Has to do with Holden’s will. I think it will make a certain blonde Homicide dectective very, very happy,” Wes continued rather smugly.

“Speak,” Spike ordered, resisting the urge to light another smoke up. What Wesley proceeded to explain to him, both shocked and made him rather happy. For Buffy’s sake that is.

Buffy was ready, ten minutes early, which was in itself a true miracle. She glanced in the full length mirror of her bedroom and realized that she looked, well…PERFECT!

“Damn, I look good,” she giggled at her reflection. “Just hope Mr. Williamson agrees!” ‘Oh, he will, Buffy,’ her mind giggled along with her as she inspected herself in the mirror.

Spike arrived at Buffy’s apartment, precisely at 6:59 PM. He would have arrived sooner, but he did not want to seem ‘too’ pushy. “Can’t wait to tell Buffy about my cousins’ last will and testament,” he crowed, out loud. “Might help the lady to give in to me, a little more easily,” he mumbled to himself as he rang Buffy’s doorbell.

When Buffy answered the door, all thoughts of his pushing the issue with her escaped Spike’s mind. Buffy was beautiful, no surprise there, but what she had on? The dress was a kind of silk, to be sure, red, but not just any shade of red. This confection was blood red and even though it was not too short, or too low cut, it draped on Buffy like a dream.

As Buffy asked Spike in, she turned to reveal a very low cutout back, almost down to her pretty little rump. All in all, Spike’s mouth was suddenly quite dry and his appetite just went from hungry to starving, however, not necessarily of the ‘food’ kind of starving.

“You look gorgeous, Buffy,” Spike gasped. “Honestly, you look amazing.”

“Thank you, Spike,” Buffy responded quickly, but coyly. “Just let me get my wrap,” Buffy purred as she grabbed a silky red stole from her coat rack.

‘I’ll give you a wrap, Princess,’ Spike thought to himself, ‘I’ll wrap my arms around you and have you wrap your…”

Buffy smiled at Spike, brightly, and all of his naughty thoughts took back seat to the giddy feelings that he now felt. He offerred Buffy his arm, which she took, easily, and led her down the stairs of her aprartment to his rented BMW.

“Hope you’re in the mood for French food, luv,” Spike grinned at her. ‘Or just French, that is,’ he thought naughtily to himself.

“I love French food, Spike,” Buffy murmered to him as he held her passenger side of the car door for her.

‘I think I just may love you, Buffy,’ Spike thought to himself, only slightly nervous about this realization. Then, ‘but you’ll never accept that, will you luv? Not my unconditional…’

When they reached the Bayou Bistro and had been seated, by a very anxious, obliging waiter, Buffy glanced around the place. She had only been here one time before, with Parker, actually. He had been nervous, anxious and out of place, it seemed. Later, at her apartment, Buffy couldn’t help but send him home to his own place for the night. She did not even remember why she had behaved that way. But, she did.

“Have I told you that you look amazingly beautiful, Buffy?” Spike asked sincerely, taking her tiny hand in his.

“Yes,” she murmered with a slight giggle, “you did, but please, don’t stop now.” They laughed, easily together.

“Ready to order, luv?” Spike asked politely as he surveyed Buffy, yet again. ‘I know what I’ll have,’ he thought to himself as he felt his pants, in the groin, get suddenly tighter.

“Uhm,” Buffy began to respond, her face flushed with embarrassment, “I don’t speak French,” she finished shyly. “Could you possibly order for both of us?”

Spike grinned, happily, and proceeded to order for both of them, from the menu and then clasp the wine list with authority. He requested some bottle of something, Buffy noted, and then leaned back in his side of the plush booth seat, comfortably. Which is more then Buffy could claim at the moment. She felt like a fish out of water at this wonderful place. With it’s murals of Paris, New Orleans and it’s live music in the bar connected to the dining area.

“Wine,” Spike offerred Buffy after the waiter had poured enough for him to taste and okay. “It is wonderful, pet,” he purred as he nodded at the waiter to pour her a healthy glass of the grape. He grinned at his date as she smiled, warmly, when she sipped from her crystal glass.

“It is wonderful,” she cooed, softly herself with a smile.

“So,” Buffy began with polite hesitation, “I was wondering…what’s your story, Spike?” She was almost matter-of-fact about it and hoped that it would put Mr. Williamson at some ease.

“My story?” he asked with a smirk. “What story?” ‘She’s digging,’ he surmised, not at all offended. ‘I’ll give her my story, if that’s what she really wants. Then, when it’s time, I’ll pull out my ace card and nail her.’

“You know,” Buffy prodded playfully as she twirled her glass to make the red wine swirl inside of it, “your childhood. Don’t tell me you know nothing of mine, Spike. You admitted yourself you had me checked up on and found out some things, so…”

He blushed and then laughed heartily, “too true, luv. I did that. So, turn about’s fair play, right?” She smiled at him, so sweetly, but yet, so seductively.

“I was born a poor British child,” Spike began in mock dramatic tones. “Okay, I wasn’t born poor. Actually, I was born better then well off.” Buffy giggled, he noted with glee.

“My parents, the honorable Johnathan and Anne Williamson were well on their way to upper class status before I was even thought of.”

“A Lord and Lady, no doubt,” Buffy interjected with an unladylike snort. She actually winked at Spike, then blushed hot with embarrassment, ‘geez,’ she scolded herself, ‘get a grip. He is only a man, after all.’

“Hardly royalty, luv,” Spike chuckled as he sipped his wine and eyed Buffy carefully. “My Mum, she was a lady all right, but not ‘that’ kind I’m afraid. My Dad was anything but a blue blood, however, his ‘family’ had already made it’s mark in London society by the time he married Mum.”

Buffy shivered at the ‘family’ implications that Spike spoke of, and took a healthy sip of her wine to fortify herself. “So, your family, as you put it. Who exactly does that consist of Spike?”

He gave her a mischivious grin and winked back at her, “oh, my Dad, Mum of course, my sister Katie and assorted others.” Spike watched, with amusement, at the puzzled look on Buffy’s pretty face.

“So,” Buffy began again, tentively, “your family does consist of others besides blood relatives?” She scrunched up her brows and surveyed Spike, who was looking much like the cat that ate the mouse.

“Some others, Princess,” Spike responded, evenly, “some I’d rather not mention in ‘your’ company, that is.” He scowled, momentarily, that is until the waiter appeared with their salads and he dropped the unpleasant discussion completely.

They talked of many things, but not of the case and his cousin’s murder. Buffy did feel like she should mention that Katerina McClay had been a cousin to Tara, her friend, Willow’s, significant other.

“I’m sorry for the family,” Spike mumbled quickly and looked towards the bar. Buffy followed his lead and saw him looking at the dance floor that lay in the bar area. Some guitar player was strumming soft, almost bluesy tunes.

Buffy glanced at the singer/guitar player and recognized Daniel Osbourne, from college as the source of the lovely music.

“I know him” she said matter-of-factly to Spike, “from High School and College. He dated by best friend, Willow.”

Spike grinned at her, “he’s good,” he nodded at the man in the bar. “Wonder why he’s in a podunk place like Sunnydale? Which reminds me, luv. Why are you here, still in Sunnydale and tell me some about your childhood. Especially since I’ve settled some of my more mentionable past on you?”

Buffy had to laugh, albeit softly, “why don’t you tell me about ‘my’ childhood and past, Spike?” she asked coyly. “You yourself admitted to checking up on me and all.”

Spike knew a challenge when he heard one, and he certainly could not let this opportunity pass him by. “All right, Buffy Summers,” he scooted closer to her and even took her tiny hand in his, “I’ll give you a short, but sweet bio of your life.”

She suddenly felt a little more then overwhelmed. The dress she wore, Spike’s attire, his amazing blue eyes and the nearness of him. Maybe she had overstepped her bounds in trying to ‘play’ Mr. W. Williamson?

“You, Buffy Summers,” Spike began slowly as he gently ran his long fingers across the back of her hand, “are an amazing woman. However,” he held up his other hand to stop her obviously sarcastic reply, “you’ll never admit it. That would be just too bloody egotistical of you, sweet.” He gazed into her green eyes and tried to convey the sincerity he felt with his words.

“You were born in on a Commune up near Eureka, on January 18th, 1975 to Hank Summers and his beloved wife, Joyce. Though your given name is Elizabeth, you go by Buffy to friends and family because your Mum, at present an Art dealer in Los Angeles, decided it suited you more, years ago at the Commune you were born on.”

Buffy was beginning to feel even more uncomfortable and she began to object to Spike’s continuance, but he shushed her gently.

“From the day your Dad became a cop, you were destined to follow in his footsteps, even though you were a mediocore student in High School and barely graduated College. In fact,” and Spike just had to smirk at this, “you were blamed for the unfortunate ‘rah rah rally’ incident of your senior year in high school when you accidently burned down the gymnasium?” He winked and grinned wickedly at Buffy when she blushed profusely.

“No one could ever prove that,” she offerred weakly and focused her green eyed gaze on her wine glass.

“You have a younger sister, Dawn, who is married to a solid bloke, school teacher by the name of Connor Crawford Little sis is about to make you an Auntie and you love the idea although…”

Buffy flinched as Spike’s hesitation, knowing he stopped himself before he could mention the fact that she should have been a mother by now. Her eyes became clouded with pain and guilt.

“Stop it,” Spike ordered harshly as he clutched her tiny hand in his, tightly. “You’re not to blame for the loss of your child Buffy,” he continued sternly. “A ‘cranked’ up loser of a gang banger shot you instead of your partner. If Thomas Ford couldn’t handle the guilt, so be it. His problem, just like it was your bloody arse of an ex-husband’s problem that he couldn’t make you happy.”

She looked at him in utter shock. No one had ever thrown that much of her past at her in one sentence, not even her shrink, Willow. A moment ago, Buffy was slightly amused at how much Spike ‘knew’ about her; now, she was pissed about it.

“You married Riley Finn,” Spike continued evenly, gazing into her green eyes, “probably for one main reason. You thought that since your were both cops, fighting the good fight and all, together, that you’d make a perfect team. Turned out, you were wrong. Your idiotic ex wasn’t near good enough for you,” he finished with a shrug.

“We are finished with supper, Spike,” Buffy whispered softly. “I think you should take me home now,” she murmered as she tried to stand. Spike held her still.

“ And I think it’s time you reliazed what a truly amazing woman you are Buffy Summers,” Spike murmered as he tucked a loose hair behind her ear. “Just because some worthless men in your life chose to batter your self esteem, to make themselves feel more important, no doubt, doesn’t mean you have to continue to buy into this bullshit of theirs.”

Buffy felt her throat tighten up and she found it hard to breathe, all of a sudden. “Please, Spike,” she rasped as she looked about to make sure no one could hear them.

“I’m sorry, Buffy,” Spike’s blue eyes fell to look at the wine glasses on the table, momentarily. “I just can’t stand to see such a wonderful woman, as yourself, keep beating herself up for shit that some idiotic blokes decide to use against her. And you are,” he stated sincerely, taking her small hand in his again, “you are a wonderful woman. Knew it the first time I looked into those emerald green eyes of yours.”


A/N: Short chapter to connect to the next series of events. There will definitely be Spuffy loving in the next chapter. And no, Spike may not have to use that ‘ace’ card to get Buffy’s affections.
Thanks for reading, please review. Luv, Spuf





“

CHANGE THE WORLD (Eric Clapton)

‘If I can reach the stars
Pull one down for you
Shine it on my heart
So you could see the truth’

‘That the love I have inside
Is everything it seems
But for now I find
It’s only in my dreams’





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