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Chapter Six

By the end of his date with Buffy, Xander was left with the comforting feeling that nothing else in his life could possibly be as embarrassing as what he'd just experienced. When they'd finally towed the car out of the ditch, it still wouldn't start, so the farmer had taken them back to his house to wait for roadside recovery. The farmer' s mother had immediately insisted that they stay for supper, declaring that Buffy was too thin and needed feeding up. They were then treated to an hour of holiday videos before, mercifully, the AA man had turned up and loaded the mini onto his truck. There was no time for any fancy goodbyes as they dropped Buffy off at her house and, although she'd declared the evening a good laugh, Xander was convinced that she'd never want to speak to him again. He'd crawled into his bed wondering how he could have ever thought a girl like Bufffy would have gone for a guy like him.

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"And the funny thing is," Xander propped his feet up on Spike's couch, "by the end of the evening I was relieved that she didn't want to go out with me."

Spike threw him a beer and sat down opposite him. "So, it didn't go well then?"

"Bloody disaster, mate." He flicked the television remote control. "Match is about to start."

"That's it?" Spike couldn't believe it. "A few days ago you wanted to marry her, and now all you're worried about is Manchester United?"

"Look, I'm trying to disguise an embarrassment the size of Brazil here. You know, with the cool behaviour. No need to keep reminding me how wonderful my love-life is."

"That's what friends are for," Spike saluted him with his beer bottle. He felt sorry for Xander, but he wasn't entirely surprised at how things had turned out. Worse than that, he felt strangely relieved that Xander and Buffy wouldn't be dating after all.

"She's a nice girl and all," Xander looked sad for a moment, "a really nice girl, but kinda scary, you know?"

"Yeah, I've been in a car with her."

"No, I mean, when she opened the door, she was so, so," he searched for the right word," groomed. That's it. Perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect house. I mean, look at me, Spike. She was expecting a five star restaurant last night, and all she got was steak and kidney pie and a randy farmer. I practically had to fight him off her."

"You and me both mate." Spike touched his injured eye. "Guess she's the kind of girl that men want to shag."

"Yeah, you keep saying that."

"Do I?"

They both sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment. Spike tried to concentrate on the game, but his thoughts kept drifting to Buffy. He could just imagine her expression when she'd driven the mini into the ditch. She had the helpless female act down, and god help him if he hadn't fallen for it. The pain over his eye attested to that.

"So, what did you think of that redhead she was with the other night?"

Spike raised his eyebrows. "Xander I am not..."

"Oh, go on Spike," Xander reached for his beer bottle, "what are friends for?"

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Buffy handed Willow her plate, and sat down at the table with her. "And then the farmer kept trying to pinch my bottom, right in front of poor Xander. I felt so sorry for him. Xander, not the farmer."

"So, you won't be seeing him again?" Willow picked up her knife and fork and stared at the food. "I thought he was kinda cute. From what I saw of him. Which wasn't very much at all." She dug into the food. "Nice steak."

"Willow. Are you having the hots for my date?"

Willow felt herself going red. She really wished her colouring didn't betray her emotions quite so much. "No Buffy, I just thought he looked nice, that's all."

"Oh, Will," Buffy put her fork down, "I'm only teasing. He is nice, and it's okay, really it is. Xander and I are going to be friends, but that's all."

Willow felt herself relax as she breathed a little sigh of relief. She didn't want to be jealous of Buffy or encroach on her boyfriends, but she shouldn't be feeling so pleased that the date didn't work out.

"So, we need a plan."

Oh dear, Buffy had the same look on her face that she'd had when she'd made her go into that rude underwear shop. Willow got the feeling that she was about to be roped in again.

"To get you and Xander together."

Willow went a bright scarlet this time. "Oh no, Buffy I couldn' t, I'm not good with boys." She pointed to her face. "Look at me, and this is only thinking about him."

But Buffy was obviously way ahead on her plan. "I've got it, we' ll have a small gathering here. Maybe videos, and I could just happen to have to make an urgent, and very long phone call home, while you and Xander get to know each other better."

"You're not going to leave me alone with him, are you? What if he doesn't like me?"

"What, after the Buffy makeover? He'll be your slave."

Willow choked as a piece of steak went down the wrong way. "No, no makeovers. I'm coming as Willow, if I'm coming at all. Hey, you could invite Spike." She saw Buffy's face fall. "Sorry, are you really mad at him for what he did?"

Buffy shook her head. "Yes, and no. And it's my own fault really, he didn't tell any lies. I just jumped to the wrong conclusion. Wishful thinking, I suppose." She took a sip of her wine. "He' s practically engaged to Xander's sister."

"Oh." Willow could see that Buffy was trying to put on a brave face. "Shame. You really liked him didn't you?"

"Yeah. Never felt anything like it Will." She pushed her plate away, leaving her food practically untouched. "Can't have him though. Let's just skip to the chocolate shall we?"

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He looked so cute in his glasses. Buffy ducked down behind the enormous volume she was pretending to read, and picked up her pen. Come on Buffy, Porphyro and Madeline, concentrate! But how could she concentrate with Spike sitting just a few feet away? He was chewing the end of his pen as he leafed through a book, then he threw it down on the table, leaned back and stretched. 'Umm,' she thought, 'the blue shirt suited him. Made a change from the black. Not that black didn't suit him. In fact he'd probably look good in a bin-bag.' This wasn't good, she was turning into a stalker. She drew a heart on the empty page and then scribbled it out. Half an hour of lurking and she still hadn't plucked up the courage to talk to him. Just because he had a girlfriend didn' t mean that she couldn't, did it? She had the perfect excuse, needed to find out about his cut. If it was healing properly, that sort of thing. She'd been going over and over it in her head. 'So, how are things then? How's your head? Your cut? Your girlfriend?' She took another peek.

"Buffy?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice. Heck, he was right behind her.

"Thought it was you." Spike flicked over the book she was hiding behind. "Latin? I'm impressed."

"Well, you know…" she hadn't even realised what she'd grabbed off the shelf, and how had he got there so fast? "Exercising the old grey cells." Buffy snapped the book closed, causing a puff of air to scatter her notes. She pushed her chair back and stood up but Spike got there first.

"Let me." He crouched down and gathered up the papers. "The Eve of St Agnes , eh? What's your favourite bit then?"

"Meantime, across the moors, had come young Porphyro, with heart on fire for Madeline." Buffy said without hesitation. "It's just so . . . passionate." She gazed up at Spike, her eyes shining. "Like he just can't help himself."

He nodded in agreement. "Daft prat's got the hots for her all right."

"And that bit at the end," Buffy closed her eyes and sighed. "And they are gone: aye, ages long ago. These lovers fled away into the storm." She shivered slightly, and shook her head, glancing away self-consciously. "Sorry, that bit always gives me goose-bumps."

"Don't apologise," his eyes softened, "I enjoyed that. Are you always this responsive?"

"What?" Buffy's head snapped up.

"Er, to poetry." Spike stuck both hands in his pockets. "You looked pretty into it then."

"I don't know," Buffy gathered up her things and stuffed them in her bag. "Sometimes I wish I could be Madeline, disappearing into the night, braving the storm. Taking the big chance." She slung her bag over her shoulder and didn't look at him. "I never will though."

"Why not?" Spike sat down on the corner of the table. "What's stopping you?"

"Life, everything. You must have seen me the other night. Making the big fool of myself. Couldn't even do that right." She suddenly remembered what she was going to say to him. "How's your head by the way?"

"Good."

"Did I thank you for that?"

"Don't rightly remember."

"How's Xander?"

"He'll get over it."

"Good. I like him, he's nice. Would you like to have coffee?" There, she'd said it. Without stuttering or mixing up the words. She waited for his answer.

"Sounds good." He stood up. "But only if you read me some more poetry."

"Only if you promise me something first. Do you need your books?"

"No, I'm coming back." They walked to the door and Spike opened it for her. "So, what would that be? I'm more than willing to help with any of those assignments."

"No, it's not that, but thanks. It's about Xander...and my friend Willow."

"Willow? The redhead??"

"You saw her, in the club?"

"Yeah, with the scary heels."

"She's not usually like that."

He chuckled, "Kinda guessed that."

Well, she thinks Xander's cute, so I'm having this thing on Friday. At my house."

"And you want me to invite Xander?"

"And you can come too. And Drusilla, of course." There, she was being very mature about it all. She could cope with seeing Spike and Drusilla together, couldn't she?

"Oh," he hesitated at the mentioned of Drusilla's name, "she's not very..."

"It's just a casual thing." She didn't want to sound too eager.

"No biggie. Bring your favourite video."

"I'll ask her."

"Good." Buffy had to admit she was curious about Drusilla. And, if she was going to be friends with Spike, she would have to meet her sometime.

She studied him surreptitiously as they walked along the corridor.. He was beautiful. She hadn't realised that men could be. He had a lithe grace.. Power and raw sensuality all mingled together. She was just so drawn to him. He made her smile, he made her blush, he made her feel. And that was going to be one heck of a sexy scar over his eye. God, she was a love-struck jerk. And Drusilla was the luckiest woman alive.

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On the way to the canteen, Spike stopped for a moment. "Wait up Buffy, just got to check something."

He walked over to the English Department notice board and scanned the flyers and announcements. There it was. A Weekend with Wordsworth. Venue, Carlington Manor, Lake District. Strongly recommended for course 47E and 37E. Any questions see Prof. Hartington or William Giles (English Dept)

He ran a finger down the list of names. She'd signed.





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