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Buffy had just spent the last hour getting ready. She had to quell the urge to spend more time on her appearance, but it wasn't too difficult once she remembered whom she was going on a date with. She still had the desire, though, to do the knockout thing, both figuratively and literally, and really, it was a toss up, which would win out.

She checked the clock and saw she still had a few minutes before her undesired suitor arrived. She gazed critically at her reflection in the mirror. Buffy hoped she was dressed appropriately. Spike's instructions of, 'dress nicely,' weren't very specific. Her sleeveless, black wool-crepe dress had a mid-calf ballerina skirt and reminded her of Audrey Hepburn. A pair of black sling backs completed the look. Her hair was simply curled so that it framed her face and she wore a pair of emerald earrings that had once belonged to her mother. A final glance in the mirror deemed her fit for anyone or anything.

As she waited, a few fears began to plague her mind. What if Spike didn't come? What if he was playing some elaborate joke on her? Buffy took a calming breath and reassured herself that Spike had gone to too much trouble to ask her out only to stand her up. Just then she heard the front door bell. She smiled and double-checked her lipstick.

As she made her way downstairs, Buffy was grateful that her dad was out to dinner with a colleague. That certainly made the fib that she was actually out on a date with Riley Finn, the well-respected captain of the wrestling team, much easier to tell. By the time she reached the foyer, Marta, the housekeeper, had already let Spike in. He was causally lounging on the divan in the front sitting room wearing a charcoal Prada suit and a red silk shirt.

He looked like he had stepped of the pages of a magazine with his designer clothing and perfectly tousled hair. He was so good looking she nearly forgot to breathe. Ok, she was going to have to give serious consideration on reassessing her opinion that he was not very attractive. Buffy cleared her throat softly and greeted him.

When Spike saw her, it was as if time had stopped. He couldn't believe how even more beautiful she looked when she wasn't wearing her conservative school uniform. For a moment, he gave serious thought to forgetting about the opera and their reservations and slinging her over his shoulder and showing her what naughty things he could do with his tongue, but the moment passed and while he was certain she would be very happy with the outcome, it would be near impossible to convince her of it in one night.

"You look beautiful, luv," he said, gently bringing her right hand to his mouth and kissing it.

Against her will, she felt her cheeks flush. "I'm impressed, Spike, you clean up pretty nice," she said with a teasing smile.

"I have a wonderful night planned. I know how much you love the arts so I arranged for us to see Aida." He smiled and she smiled back, although she had no idea what Aida was about. 'Well, maybe this won't be as difficult as I believed,' he thought as he opened the passenger door for Buffy on his black BMW convertible. Spike hopped in the car, gave Buffy a rakish grin, and sped off towards the Met.

* * *

Spike and Buffy had just arrived at La Cuillère and the valet had seen to the car. Buffy had been strangely silent since they left the Met. Spike tried another attempt at conversation. "Wasn't that wonderful, Buffy? I mean the set alone must have cost a fortune. I think that was one of the best productions I have seen in a while, don't you think?" he asked.

"I have no words," she said quietly. Fortunately she was rescued from having to elaborate further by the Maitre d'.

"Good evening Mr. Harrington. How lovely to have you dine with us again. Allow me to show you to your table," the Maitre d' drawled politely in his heavy French accent.

Spike and Buffy followed the Maitre d' towards the windows. The secluded table offered a charming view of Central Park. "Your waiter shall be with you in a moment. May I offer you something to drink?"

Spike glanced at the proffered wine list. "Château Lafitte 1989."

"I'll have a glass of water, please. Thank you." She smiled then gave Spike a little smirk.

"As you wish," the Maitre d' said as he gave a slight bow and set off for the wine sommelier.

"Spike, wine? You're not even old enough to drink," she commented, frowning.

"Don't worry, luv, I won't be drinking that much. I've been drinking wine since I was ten and I turned out fine. Besides," he continued, his eyes full of mischief, "dinner without wine is like life without song." The comment was corny, but he looked so adorable when he said it, that Buffy couldn't help but smile her first genuine smile of the evening.

The sommelier then arrived with the wine and poured a glass for both Buffy and Spike. The waiter followed shortly with their menus and engaged in a short conversation with Spike in French. Much to Buffy's dismay, the menu was also in French and gave a soft groan. Spike noticed her reaction and gently lowered her leather bound menu. "Don't worry about it, Buffy. I'll order you something you'll like."

He looked so considerate when he said that that she had a hard time placing this version of Spike with the smug, arrogant version she had previously encountered.

The waiter seemed to know exactly when Spike had decided on what to order. Spike gave the orders in flawless French and returned his attentions to Buffy once the waiter had jotted everything down.

"Out of curiosity, what did you order for me?"

"It's a surprise, pet. What fun would life be if there were no surprises?" He winked at her impishly.

Against her will, Buffy felt herself flush again. She wished she had more experience with boys, but she had gone to an all girls' school until her dad had received the headmaster's position at Manchester Prep. Her lack of experience certainly hadn't helped her relationship with Parker. He had wanted to go much further than she was ready for. He couldn't understand that she wanted to be in love before she made love with him. Finally he had gotten tired of waiting and broke up with her. Buffy had even started thinking that she had made a mistake, that she should have given in to him, but her friends reassured her that she had made the right decision. Unfortunately for her, the rest of the school seemed to know about Buffy's decision as well, thanks to Parker. This train of thought led her to think of Spike. Why had someone who was widely known to be the high school equivalent to Casanova ask her out?

"You do know why Parker and I broke up, don't you?"

Spike seemed nonplussed by the abrupt question. "Yes, I know what happened with you and Parker."

"And?"

"And he was a fool." His piecing blue gaze never wavered and in that moment some of her resistance chipped away.

The waiter arrived with bread and a small pot interrupting the intense moment.

Spike set about spreading some of the contents of the pot on a piece of bread and offered it to Buffy.

"What is it?" She was all for trying new things, but she wanted to know what she was about to put in her mouth.

He gave her a warm smile. "It's French bread and lavender honey. It's a delicacy, the best honey you have ever tasted. Here-"

Buffy allowed Spike to feed her a piece of bread smeared in honey. Her eyes widened. "It's so good," she said around the bread reaching for another piece.

Spike laughed at her eagerness.

Lobster bisque soon followed, which was also delicious. While they ate, Buffy and Spike chatted about school and how much they were looking forward to the upcoming Easter Break.

When their meal arrived, Buffy looked at her entrée, her expression something akin to horror. "Um Spike, what did you order for me?"

"Foie gras, why?" Spike glanced up at Buffy and noticed that she had turned a delicate shade of green. "Is everything all right, pet?" he asked concernedly.

"I had a bad experience once with pâté," was all she could manage to get out. She covered her lips up with her napkin.

"I'm sorry, I should have asked you if it was something you would like before I ordered. I'll take care of this." He signaled to the waiter who immediately returned to his side. "Is filet mignon ok with you?"

She nodded mutely and Spike instructed the waiter to take away the offensive goose liver and return with the more palatable steak. Once the waiter had left, Spike said, "Buffy, I am really very sorry about that. I ordered it for you because it is one of my mother's favorites. Are you going to be ok?"

After a moment, Buffy found her voice. "Yeah, I think I will be fine, but I am going to go out on the terrace for some fresh air."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, I won't be long." Buffy hurriedly left the table.

His cell phone started to ring.

"Hello."

"Screw her yet?" Angelus voice asked.

"I'm working on it."

"Loser."

"Later, Peaches." He hung up and Spike gave a little chuckle.

Buffy returned shortly looking much better, and grinned appreciatively at the delicious looking piece of red meat she found waiting for her. "This looks much better, thanks."

"Are you sure you're alright? We can leave if you want." Spike stood, and moved to hold Buffy's chair out for her, and watched her slide into her seat gracefully.

"No, the fresh air did me a world of good. I'm practically a new person," Buffy replied perkily, despite the fluttering she felt in her stomach due to Spike's close proximity.

The dinner went on without another hitch and all too soon it was getting close to Buffy's curfew.

As Spike was diving Buffy home, he kept glancing at her surreptitiously. The date had its ups and downs, but Spike felt certain he had impressed her; box seats at the Met, and a dinner that cost more that what a family of four would spend on groceries for a month. "So did you have a good time?" he asked, confident in what her answer would be.

Buffy turned and faced him. "Spike can you be honest with me? Did you even like the opera? I mean the singing and the costumes were amazing, but I don't know Italian and it was hard to follow the plot. Oh, and dinner, Spike really. I would have had just as much fun getting hotdogs from a vendor and sitting on a bench in Central Park," she offered, not unkindly. "You really didn't have to go to all this trouble. I'm just like every other sixteen year old, I like to have fun."

Spike looked dumbfounded for a moment and then let out an honest laugh. "Well, I guess I screwed up then. I thought this was sort of thing you would like. I just wanted us to get to know each other better. Forgive me?" He took his eyes of the road for a second and gave her the most soulful look she had ever received. Before she could even catch her breath, he had looked away.

Buffy was silent while she contemplated Spike's fate. "There is more to the both of us, I suspect, than meets the eye. I suppose I'll give you another chance on our next date." She smiled and looked straight ahead.

"Glad you see it that way, pet. You just saved me from trying to come up with another crazy stunt to get you to go out with me again."

"Just one condition, no more fancy places, Spike. Just you and me having fun, because I'm getting this feeling you haven't had that for a while." She looked over at him, but Spike didn't respond.

They had just pulled into the drive of Buffy's house. "I'll make it up to you. Our next date will be incredible," Spike promised. He made to get out of the car and walk Buffy to the door, but she stopped him.

"Spike, we won't be having anymore dates if my dad finds out. I can walk myself to the door."

Spike acquiesced.

"Well, it has certainly been interesting. See you at school."

"Ta, luv."

Spike groaned aloud once she was inside the house. That hadn't gone as he had planned. He didn't even get to first base with her tonight. At this rate he would be graduated and going to Harvard before she would let him under her skirts. He was really going to have to step up the soulful charm if he wanted to get this done before graduation.

* * *

The Bradbury Residence: Madison Ave

Spike entered his house and walked up the stairs, noticing Angelus' light was still on. He knocked on the door and entered to find Angelus reading a book.

Looking up from Les Liaisons Dangereuses Angelus commented leeringly, "So I guess you didn't nail her, since it's only eleven-thirty."

"Angelus, if it wasn't a challenge, it wouldn't be any fun. Plus, I laid in some good groundwork tonight. She's starting to buy that there really is a soulful, vulnerable man underneath my hard persona. Before you know it, she will be in my bed, screaming my name, much to the horror of her daddy dearest." Spike laughed mirthlessly. "Then after that I will be in my new penthouse screwing the finest women New York has to offer with a panoramic view of the city as my backdrop." He smiled at that thought.

"Not yet you won't, Spike. I have to see her on tape before I give you the

keys. By the way, your website is getting a lot of hits. Did the poor girl

even know you were taking pictures of her?" Angelus asked looking over at his laptop, which displayed a page entitled "Miss America Bares it All."

Spike cocked his head to the side and spoke with mock innocence. "Hmm, I don't think the judges will like that. I bet by the end of the week Cecily will be stripped of her crown." Throwing off the façade, he shrugged. "Oh well, nothing less than what the bitch deserved."

Angelus chuckled as he stood and moved to usher Spike out of his room. "I agree with you there, but anyways, I have company coming over and your presence hasn't been requested for this session. Goodnight, Spike."

Spike nodded and turned to step into the hallway. "Sweet dreams, Angelus. Don't make her scream too loud." He laughed, giving Angelus a little wink and closed the door.





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