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Chapter 5

By seven-thirty the next evening, Buffy had been pampered to within an inch of her life. She'd rushed straight from her lecture to a local beauty salon, and had the full works: hair, nails, facial, the lot. Then she'd met Willow, and they'd spent the afternoon trying on clothes in outrageously expensive dress shops. Buffy had eventually chosen three separate outfits - just in case she changed her mind later. After a mad dash back to the university for a meeting with her tutor, Buffy had rushed home, and was now trying on the outfits in front of Willow.

"So, which one?" She appraised herself in the mirror. "Do you think the mauve is too much?" The swirly, flowery dress was a little too summery for an English October, but it set off her colouring perfectly. She'd managed to keep her California tan with the help of a sun-bed which she had in a spare room.

Willow lay on her stomach on Buffy's bed. "Buffy, that's the fourth time you've tried that on. If he's worth freezing to death for, then wear it." She turned the page of the book she was trying to read. "Did he say where you were going? 'Cause that would be a clue."

Buffy turned once more and picked up two pairs of sandals. "No, he didn't say much at all, now, which shoes?" She waggled them in front of Willow's face. "Hey, you're not paying attention - again."

Willow sat up, snapping her book shut. She folded her arms, and looked directly at Buffy. "Okay, so now I am.. Did you call him, Buffy? You know, to see if he's all right?" She pointed to the sandals on the right. "Those would look nice. Because it sounded pretty horrible."

Buffy wriggled out of the dress and stood admiring her designer underwear. Just buying it had given her a delicious thrill. "It was Will." She turned to inspect her back view. "He really should have gone to the hospital. But, you know, men are such babies." She picked up the second dress. "He barely let me patch him up, but I had to practically kidnap him to do it."

"You did what?" Willow looked at her curiously. "You didn't tell me that."

"Umm." Buffy slipped the dress over her head. "He didn't leave me his number, so I couldn't call him, but he would have let me know if there was a problem, right?"

"No, about the kidnapping bit." Willow leaned forward. "Did you bring him here?"

"Well, yes." Buffy stood with her arms out in a 'what do you think?' sort of way. "Well."

"Bra strap," Willow observed. "And that was when he asked you out?"

Buffy twisted. "Oh crap, it is showing." She lifted the hem and started to pull it off, but then she stopped. "He was so sweet Will, all kinda formal and tongue-tied. Very, you-know, English." She picked up the third outfit, a blouse and skirt ensemble. "What do you think, too dull?"

"No, it's perfect Buffy, but," Willow looked serious for a moment. "You will be careful won't you? I mean, he could be anyone." She picked up Buffy's stuffed pig, and pretended to make it talk. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Buffy slipped her arms into the blouse. "I don't think there's anything to worry about, he did try to help me last night" She did up the buttons, then undid the top two. "And he's not just anyone, he's Spike." She frowned. "Stupid name, but it kinda suits him." She pulled on the skirt. "Oh Willow, he's so hot. There was this incredible chemistry. I've never felt anything like it." She fastened the skirt and turned to the mirror again. "Be happy for me."

"I am Buffy. Just don't go rushing into things, you know." Willow swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. "And think of me tucked up with Elements of Psychology." She picked up her book, and put it in her shoulder bag.

Buffy smoothed down her skirt. It was perfect for a chic restaurant, but what if they went to a club afterwards? What kind of thing did Spike like anyway? She realised that she knew very little about him. He was doing a PhD, liked to wear black and seemed to be scared of hospitals. Oh, and he was foolhardy and brave, and good looking.. But what else was there? "Hey, maybe he's like Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre, you know with the mad wife in the attic? But, honestly Will, he seemed like a regular kind of guy, well, apart from the hair...and he was kind of mysterious about his real name."

"Maybe it's Rumplestilskin." Willow walked over to Buffy and gave her a hug. "I think I should be going. Don't want to cramp your style."

Buffy hugged her back. "Oh Will, we've got to find someone for you, then we can all go out together. This year is going to be so great. I just know it. Aagh, that's the doorbell."

For a moment they both stared at each other.

"He's early."

"I'll let myself out the back."

"Oh no, my earrings, where are they?"

"On your ears Buffy, You look great. Go let him in."

"My hair."

"Looks fine, get down there already." Willow blew her a kiss. "Going now."

And then Buffy was alone. As the doorbell rang again, She quickly ran a brush through her hair, checked her teeth, took a deep breath and picked up her evening purse. Time to go.

Willow ran down the stairs and into the rear lobby. She let herself out of the back-door, hoping that Buffy would remember to lock it after her, then tiptoed round to the side-entrance and opened the gate carefully. From where she was, she could see Buffy's date standing at the front door, holding an enormous bunch of flowers. They partially hid him from view, so she leaned out a little more. Funny, his hair was nothing like Buffy had described. She'd expected it to be, well, blonder. She jumped back behind the gate as he turned and looked round. Her car was on the drive, next to where he'd parked his and he was probably wondering who it belonged to. She watched him shuffle from foot to foot. 'Open the door Buffy,' she thought, 'I want to go home.' She couldn't just casually stroll out from the back of the house now, he might think she was a burglar or something.

She sneaked another look. Buffy hadn't been joking. He was good-looking, and that injury seemed to have healed but boy, did he look nervous. He was muttering to himself and holding out the flowers, then shaking his head and repeating the gesture. Then she saw him jump and heard Buffy's voice. At last, she was letting the poor guy in. As she dashed for her car, she couldn't help feeling a little envious. Spike was hot. Just the kind of guy she could go for, in fact. And she was a very bad friend for even thinking such a thing. He was Buffy's date and she'd made it clear that he was special. Willow backed her car off the drive and wondered maybe if he had a twin brother to spare?


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Flowers. He'd sent her flowers. This just kept getting better and better. Buffy couldn't stop the goofy grin that was forming on her face. "Oh, they're beautiful."

"Glad you like them." The man handed them over with a flourish.

Buffy buried her face in the roses and breathed in their fragrance. When she looked up he was still there, looking at her expectantly. Tip. She'd forgotten to give him a tip. "Oh, how rude of me," she said, reaching for her purse, and taking out a five pound note. "Is this enough, because, you know, I haven't really got the hang of English money yet?"

He just stood there, giving her a strange look, and began turning very red. "Er, the flowers are for you Buffy." He clapped his hands, then rubbed them together. "You know, like a gift?"

"Yes, I know and they're lovely," she looked at the five pound note. "Isn't this enough?"

"Umm, you don't have to pay for them."

"Oh dear, you don't tip in this country." Buffy put the flowers on the hall table. "How embarrassing, I'm just so used to it, you know, being American. We have to tip everyone." He still wasn't leaving. "Well," she made a big show of looking at her watch. "I can't stand here talking all night. I have a date and," she leaned out and looked round him, catching sight of Willow giving her the thumbs up as she got in her car, "he'll be here any minute."

"And he'd be me."

"He'd be who?" Buffy took an abrupt step back.

"He'd be me. And I'm thinking we were having a bit of a mix up there. Did you think I was the..."

"Flower delivery man?" Buffy finished. "No, of course not." Realisation was dropping on her like the proverbial ton of bricks. "Are you Spike's...?"

"Friend. Yes." He ran a hand through his floppy, brown hair. "The one he told you about?" He held out his hand, "He did tell you about me?"

Buffy took his hand. "Yes, yes of course. You're, umm..."

"Xander." He shook her hand and did a little bow. "Xander Harris."

"Of course you are." Buffy managed to force out a little laugh. "He told me all about you."

Xander pulled a face, "Not everything I hope. Do you think we could this start again?"

"Okay, shall I shut..."

"The door?" Xander backed away. "Good idea. I'll just be here." He pointed at the door-step.

Buffy closed the door and leaned against it. Her spirits were rapidly nose-diving towards the floor. Spike really did have a 'friend'. How could she have been so stupid to have thought anything else? And that poor guy out there. Trying to tip him? He must think she was a nut-case. And now she couldn't not go out with him, what with the beautiful flowers and all that. He'd be so hurt. How could she have misinterpreted the signals so badly? It had felt so right with Spike the other night. How could he do this to her?


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"You steaming, great, prat. " Xander slapped himself on the forehead and stepped back. "Well, that was a great start." He looked at the door. "Serves you right if she doesn't open it. I wouldn't if I was inside." He paced up and down the step. "You're out of your league here mate. Look at that car." It was a very old Mini, and for the first time he didn't feel the wave of affection he usually experienced. It suddenly looked like what it was. A clapped out old banger with tin-foil over the radiator. How could he take her out in that? This was one heck of a posh neighbourhood. He should have borrowed Spike's car, only that wasn't much better. And look how she was dressed. She'd obviously been expecting more than a pub-meal. He felt such a fool. How could Spike have done this to him?


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Spike had finally tracked down Dru. She was sitting on a bar stool in the lounge of The Frog and Ferrett with a group of college friends and some other people he'd never seen before. She didn't seem very pleased to see him.

"Hi, darling." He put an arm round her and pulled her in for a kiss, but she evaded him.

"My Spikey's been a naughty boy," she announced to the group. "Forgot all about me last night didn't he?" She turned her back on him, and smirked to herself.

Spike dropped his arm and tried to hide his annoyance. He didn't like her new friends and he didn't like her when she was like this. "You were supposed to come with Xander." She had that spaced out look and he guessed what she'd been up to. "He came to pick you up, but you weren't there."

"Oooh, is my Spikey all cross?" she giggled into her hand and turned round. "Gonna make it all up to you later, don't you worry." Her hand started a slow slide up the front of his jeans. "Dru's got something special. Just what you like."

He caught her hand and held on to it. "Come on Dru, we're leaving."

"Might not want to." She pouted and leaned towards the balding man who was sitting to her right. "Johnny's got something special for us. Ain't that right Johnny?"

The man gave a non-committal shrug, "Might have." He looked away, avoiding Spike's glare. "And keep it down Dru. Gonna get me chucked outa here."

Spike pulled her from the bar stool, and she fell into him giggling.

"Ooh Spike, what have you done to your face?" She ran her hand over the cut, causing Spike to pull back sharply.

"Careful love, got into a spot of bother." He turned to Johnny, who was still avoiding him. "Which is what you'll be in if I catch you giving her any more stuff. Got that mate?"

"You don't own her, man." It was one of Dru's college friends. He quickly backed off, and sat down as Spike turned on him. He held up his hands. "I was only saying."

Dru cuddled up to Spike. "He looks after me, my Spike does, and," she wagged her finger at Johnny, "you are a bad man."

"I mean it." Spike turned to Johnny again. "If you come near her..."

"You'll what?" Johnny spoke quietly, without turning round. "Watch it Spike, you're playing with the big boys now. You wouldn't want to upset me or my friends now, would you?"

"Bloody hell." Spike spun round, pulling Dru with him. Who the heck had she got herself entangled with? All he wanted was to finish his PhD, then he and Xander were going to try and make a go of their fledgling computer business. Poetry and computing. A strange combination, but he was good at both and he knew he could make something of his life. He'd even fantasised about him and Dru getting a place together when she'd finished college. This girl who he'd been mad about from the moment he'd set eyes on her, and who these days he hardly recognised. And he missed the old Dru, the sexy, passionate Dru who used to do things to him that no woman had ever done. He'd only just found out about her previous bout of drug addiction, the family had kept that well hidden, and now it seemed she was slipping back to her old habits. It was breaking his heart and she needed him now, more than ever.

"Come on love," he said quietly, "don't fancy being beaten up again."

He'd never fought over a woman before and now it seemed that's all he was doing. As he put Dru in the car, his mind drifted to his encounter with Buffy. The light to Drusilla's dark, he thought, and he wondered how her date with Xander was going.


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"Okay, when I say now, I want you to lift the clutch to the biting point, accelerate just a bit, then push the clutch back down. Got it?"

Buffy stuck her head out of the window. "What was that bit after the clutch?"

"Lift the clutch until it bites." Xander braced his arms on the back of the car. "Gonna start pushing, now." He gave a great heave and nothing happened. "Buffy, are you braking?"

"Oops, sorry. I'm not used to three pedals." She suddenly noticed that the hand-brake was on and she surreptitiously released it. "Think I've found the problem. Want to try again?"

Xander gave a one, two, three and pushed for all he was worth, the car rolled forward, kangarooed several times and then shuddered to a halt.

"Buffy, you've got to accelerate once it starts moving, and dip the clutch, or it will stall."

She opened the door and got out of the car. Another pair of laddered stockings, and she was sure she'd stepped in something disgusting back there. "Perhaps if I pushed?" She walked to the back of the car. "It's only little. I'm sorry Xander, I just don't understand what I'm supposed to be doing."

"No way Buffy." He smoothed back the floppy lock of hair from his forehead and gave the car a kick. "I'm really sorry about this. She does this sometimes. Stops for no good reason. Perhaps I should call Spike?"

"No. Please, not Spike." This was embarrassing enough for Xander. She certainly didn't want Spike to witness it. "Perhaps we can get help." She looked down the deserted country lane which was supposed to have been leading to a cosy country pub. "Was that a farm back there?"

Xander looked back. "May have been. Look, let's have one more try. Hop in Buffy, you can do it."

Buffy climbed back in and Xander pushed. She gave a shriek as the car suddenly veered to the left, "Xander!"

She heard him shout something extremely rude as the left side of the car gently sank into the muddy ditch.


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If his car had been a woman, or a man for that matter, Xander would have strangled it. It wasn't the most reliable car in the world, but why now? This date couldn't get any worse. First Buffy had mistaken him for a delivery boy, then he'd realised that jeans and sweatshirt were not what you wore on a date with this kind of girl. She'd looked a million dollars when she'd opened that door, and she had to be the scariest driver in the world. He'd never seen anyone make such a mess of bump-starting a car before. She couldn't even drive in a straight line.

He ran to the car and opened the door. "Buffy, are you all right?" She had her head in her hands and was shaking. "Oh no, Buffy," he put his hand on her shoulder. "Don't cry, there's no damage."

She looked up at him. There were tears in her eyes, but she wasn't crying. She was laughing hysterically.

Xander didn't know what to do. "And this is funny, why?"

She banged her hands on the steering wheel, accidentally catching the horn and making them both jump. That started her off again. Be, because it's," the laughter overtook her again. "Everything about this is funny, don't you see? Me dressed like this, me sinking your car in a pond. I'm like a walking sit-com." This time she did look close to tears.

"No, no, Buffy." Xander offered her his hand and pulled her out of the car. "It's me, I'm the walking sit-com. These things, they happen to me. And boy, do they happen to me."

The car gave a lurch and sank down a little more. They both stared at it and this time Xander started the laughing, and by the time they stopped they were both completely hysterical.


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"So, what you kids been up to then?" The farmer turned, and winked conspiratorially at Xander. "Bit o' the old 'if it's rocking, don't come a knocking' eh?"

Buffy gave Xander a puzzled look. She didn't understand a word the old farmer was saying. He had a thick country brogue which made it worse and any minute now she was going to start laughing again, which would be terribly rude. He had been kind though. They were bumping along on the back of his old tractor towards Xander's mini, and hopefully, between them, they would be able to get it going again. Xander looked pretty shell-shocked, and Buffy really felt for him. She leaned over and touched him on the arm. "I think we could be really good friends Xander." His face fell, "No, don't look at me like that. I haven't made many since I got here and me and you, well, we laugh at the same things."

"Like my car. "

"Yeah." She stifled a giggle. "Never seen anything like that one. I'd like to see that country pub though. It sounded kinda neat. Gotta do the whole Olde Englishe thing while I'm here. What do you say?"

He covered his face and rubbed his eyes. When he looked at her, he hadn't quite managed to disguise his disappointment. "Okay Buffy, you got a date. A friendly, date, thing." He brightened, "Hey, maybe we can invite Spike and Dru along."

"Spike and who?" The words stuck in her throat. Spike did have a girlfriend.

"Dru." Xander tapped the farmer on the shoulder as they approached the stranded car. "My sister."





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