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Chapter Seven

Buffy had no luck whatsoever in persuading Willow to have a makeover. In fact, by the end of the week, Willow had gotten herself so worked up about the whole thing that she turned up at Buffy's house wearing her oldest jeans and baggiest sweatshirt.

"You said casual, right?" She avoided Buffy's disappointed look. "And these are comfy, and when I'm comfy, I'm more relaxed. Look, Steel Magnolias." She held up the video she'd borrowed for the night.

"You look adorable Will." Buffy didn't sound very convinced.

Willow pulled her sweatshirt down, stretching it even more. "Don' t be mad Buffy. I know you're only trying to help but, well, I just want to be Willow."

"Oh dear," Buffy looked contrite, "there I go again, always trying to organise everyone's life. Just be you, Willow. You're fine just as you are. Maybe If I stopped trying so hard I'd have more luck in, well you know."

Willow looked at her video, "Maybe this wasn't the best choice for tonight. What have you got?"

"Ghost." They both burst out laughing. "And lots of tissues." Buffy looked down at her outfit. "There's the doorbell. Let him in Will, I think I might just go upstairs and change." She raced up the stairs, pulling at her blouse buttons as she went. "Drinks are in the kitchen."

Willow stared at the door. Let Xander in. How did she do that? Turn the door handle, and open the door, but first stop shaking. The bell rang again. Okay, one, two three. She opened the door and there he was. And he looked amazing.

He was wearing a pair of neatly pressed Chinos, a shirt and a tie. He was actually wearing a tie, and what had he done to his hair? Looked like it had gel in it. Willow stared at the package that was Xander and he stared back and then they both looked down at themselves and said, "Oh!"

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Buffy slipped out of her skirt and reached for her sweatpants. She could do dressing-down. She could. Never mind that they were designer sweatpants. Willow was right. This was a fun evening around the television with friends, not a reception with the queen of England. She had to learn to let go a little. To stop trying so hard all the time. She opened a drawer and took out a big white t-shirt, which she would usually wear for working out. Tonight she would be comfy, after all, who was she trying to impress? If Spike turned up, he'd be with Drusilla anyway. He wouldn't be looking at her. She looked doubtfully at herself in the mirror and fluffed up her hair. This was a new look for her yet again, she thought. Usually she would rather die than appear in front of anyone without spending at least an hour in the bathroom, and then trying on every single outfit in her closet. She took a tissue and started to scrub at her lipstick but then she stopped and grabbed the lipstick and re-applied it. Not ready to go that far.

When she got downstairs, Xander and Willow were sitting on opposite sides of the room, both staring fixedly at their feet. Xander had a beer bottle in his hand and goodness, what was he wearing? He looked good, though, even if he was a little overdressed. She waved cheerfully at him. "Hi Xander, glad you could come. I see you' ve met Willow." She put a big emphasis on the word Willow.

He jumped at the sound of her voice and she noticed the look of dismay on his face when he realised how she was dressed. "Who? Oh. Yes." He took a big gulp of his beer.

Buffy sat herself down next to Willow. "So, what did you bring?"

"What?" Xander pulled at his tie.

"DVD." Buffy pointed to the box beside him on the couch. "What've you got for us?"

"Night -of-the-Living-Dead."

"Oh, my favourite," Willow piped up, then looked down at her feet again. "Well, one of..."

"Really?" Xander managed something approaching a smile. "Mine too, you like horror then?"

"Love it. I like to get really scared, then go to bed and hide under the blankets."

"Yeah? When I was a kid I'd pretend I was in a tent..."

"And you'd have a flashlight?"

"And I'd shine it on my face..."

They both lapsed into silence again, but Buffy hadn't failed to notice the buzz of excitement that had passed between them. Willow a horror freak, who'd have guessed it? Well, that was a good start.

The doorbell rang and they all jumped together. Boy, things were tense tonight. Buffy shot out of the chair. "That'll be Spike and Dru Willow, why don't you check out Xander's DVD or something?" She motioned towards Xander as the doorbell rang again. "I'll go let them in."

Buffy stopped for a moment in the hallway and gathered her wits.. Why was she so nervous at the thought of meeting Dru? Would Drusilla be beautiful? Of course she would. But so what, why should that bother her? She knew very well why. She pasted a smile on her face as she reached for the door. How on earth was she going to handle seeing Spike in the arms of another woman?

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Spike pulled the video out of his pocket. Bloody Drusilla. They' d been here once already. She'd been up for it right until the last moment, and then had decided that she wanted to go to the pub instead. He'd tried his best to persuade her, but then she'd accused him of not wanting her any more, or some such nonsense and jumped out of the car. He'd tried to follow her, but she'd just laughed at him, and he'd lost it. Told her to go. And she'd gone. So now he stood on Buffy's doorstep, holding a copy of Dracula has Risen from the Grave and feeling utterly miserable. Frustration at his inability to make Dru love him the way she used to, guilt at the way he was looking forward to seeing Buffy again, anger at himself for being love's bitch - he was feeling it all at the moment. And sorry for himself. It wasn't often he indulged that one, but tonight he felt like a little boy who'd just been told that Christmas had been cancelled. He knew he was getting near to the end with Drusilla, but he couldn't cut himself free from her right now without seeming like the world's worst, biggest...

The door opened and there was Buffy, smiling at him. Her expression changed to one of mild concern as she seemed to pick up on the emotions written in his face.

"No Dru?"

He shook his head. "Brought a video."

"Good." Her face still held a questioning look. "Come in Spike."

He stepped inside, avoiding her gaze as he shrugged out of his coat. "Hope you like horror."

She picked up the video, "Dracula? Nice one. You okay Spike?"

He threw his coat into the closet. "Yep, right as rain. I see Xan's here, how are he and Red getting on?"

"I'm working on it. Beer?"

"Sounds good. Shall I?" He pointed to the kitchen.

"No, you go through, I'll get it."

He watched her disappear into the kitchen. Cute get-up. Sexy, and dangerous. He shouldn't have come. He was feeling vulnerable and needy, and Buffy was the last person he trusted himself to be around. It wasn't fair to any of them, not him, not Dru and definitely not Buffy. This had major hurt, all round, written all over it.

He took the beer she'd fetched for him and followed her into the television room. Why was life so bloody complicated?

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Buffy was pleased to see that Willow and Xander were at least on the same couch now, even if they were both still staring at their shoes, but she was worried about Spike. He'd looked terrible, almost close to tears when she'd opened the door. No sign of Drusilla. It was obvious that something had happened but he didn't look as if he wanted to talk about it, hadn't offered any explanations. Xander had mouthed something at him when he'd seen Spike was alone, but Spike had just shaken his head. Still, she was glad he'd made it, and she was secretly relieved that she didn't have to meet Dru just yet.

"Okay, horror or weepie?"

"Horror." The three of them spoke in unison. Willow picked up Night of the Living Dead. "This one?"

Xander flashed her a look of approval, and Spike shrugged his shoulders, "Sounds good to me."

"Okay then." Buffy popped the disc in the player, then padded back to the couch and sat next to Spike, tucking her feet up underneath her. He leaned back, but didn't look very relaxed at all. Waves of tension rolled off him and her heart went out to him. The butterfly bandages were gone, leaving him with an angry looking red slash over his eye. She wondered if Dru had taken them off for him. She hoped he was remembering to put antiseptic cream on it. He didn't want to catch an infection, did he? What he needed was a good shoulder massage, to loosen the kinks and get those knots out. With some wonderfully exotic massage oil. She indulged in her fantasy for a few more moments until she realised that since the film had started she hadn't seen any of it. How on earth was she going to concentrate with him stretched out so invitingly beside her?

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Willow hadn't been exactly telling the truth when she'd declared her love of horror movies. It had seemed like a good way to engage Xander in conversation, but now she was beginning to feel seriously freaked. She was never going to sleep tonight, she thought, jumping violently as something surprising happened on the screen.

Xander chuckled and leaned close. "You'll love this bit."

"Will I? Yikes," she jumped again. "Umm, sorry about that." She gave everyone an apologetic look. "Wasn't expecting that. O-mi-god, what's he doing?"

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It turned out that nobody but Xander actually watched much of the film at all. Buffy spent the whole time giving Spike a mental back rub, imagining the feel of his muscles moving under her oil-slickened hands, happily lost in her little fantasy. Spike meanwhile, spent the entire film re-living the bust-up he'd had with Dru, wondering what there was left to say to her, and trying not to notice the heady perfume Buffy was wearing. Willow ended up with a cushion over her face, peeking out occasionally but mostly secretly watching Xander. She wanted to take his tie off. Slowly, like she'd seen a woman do in a film once, but the thought of actually doing it both horrified and excited her at the same time. She'd have to sit on his lap, astride him, so she could look him in the eye. Perhaps she could pull it off with her teeth. Erk, where did that come from? She'd never have the courage to do that, would she?

---------------

As the credits rolled, Buffy jumped up and grabbed Spike's hand. "Come on Spike, why don't you help me fix us something to eat?"

He was a little slow on the uptake, I'm not really hungry, oh!" He finally seemed to realise why she was rolling her eyes towards Willow and Xander in such a strange fashion, and allowed himself to be pulled up. "Right, I'm starving."

Willow was halfway to her feet as well. "I can help you Buffy."

"Got all the help I need." Buffy frantically motioned her to sit back down. "We might be a while, but I'm sure Xander will look after you, won't you?" She nodded at Xander who was having a lazy stretch. The film and several beers seemed to have put him in a very good mood, but he still wasn't really getting it. He flashed Willow a friendly grin and then picked up Spike's video, which was on the end table, and proceeded to read the back cover.

Buffy pulled Spike out of the room, frustrated beyond belief. "What the hell's it gonna take to get those two together?" She noticed Spike was smiling for the first time that evening.

"Bossy thing, aren't you?" He looked down at her hand, which was still entwined in his, and let it go. "You can't just throw them together and expect them to, well you know."

"But they like each other, I know it." She took another discrete peek round the door. Still no progress. "Willow likes Xander anyway."

"And I'm pretty sure Xander could go for Willow." He leaned back against the wall and folded his arms. "Of course he's only just got over you."

He was looking at her through half closed eyes and she couldn't really tell what he was thinking. "That's not fair, Spike. I never did anything to lead him on."

"You didn't see you in that club."

She looked down and inspected her fingernails. "That wasn't the real me."

"Is this the real you then?" He nodded towards her outfit.

"No, this is actually workout Buffy."

"What, like Workout Barbie?" That earned him a shove. "Ow."

"Never mind me. What are we going to do about those two in there?"

"Oh for heaven's sake." Spike opened the door. "Xan, need a word with you."

Xander looked up, perplexed, then got up and came to the door.

Spike pulled him out of the room and closed the door. "Okay, listen up. The nice lady in there. Major hots for you. You're in man." He spun the very surprised-looking Xander around. "We won't be disturbing you any time soon, will we Buffy?"

"No, She really likes you Xander. She's just a bit shy that's all."

With that, Spike opened the door, and shoved Xander back into the room.

He turned to Buffy. "Okay, that's sorted. Now, we just need to amuse ourselves for the next hour or so." Got any suggestions?

Buffy caught the hint of a smirk on his lips. Was he flirting with her, because she could play this game too? "I play a mean game of snap. "

He laughed out loud at that one. "Don't think I could stand the suspense right now, love. You'd beat me hands down."

"Yeah," Buffy beckoned him to follow her into the kitchen, "I noticed you were a bit tense. Coffee?."

"Love one, and yeah, that's a bit of an understatement at the moment." Spike pulled out a chair and turned it round, sitting astride it. "Got a few problems."

Buffy busied herself with the coffee making, not wanting to distract him now he was opening up. "Oh yeah, with the PhD and all?"

"No, that's going okay, more personal."

"What, family, that sort of stuff," Buffy spooned the coffee into the filter, "because my dad drives me mad sometimes. Don't get me wrong I love him to bits, but you know?"

"Yeah, know exactly, but this, it's out of my control. Can we talk about something else?" Spike folded his arms across the back of the chair. How are you finding England?

"Cold." She flipped the switch on the coffee maker, and sat herself down at the kitchen table. "You know, after California. But it' s really quaint, the bit's I've seen anyway."

He leaned his chin on his hands. "Try and see some of the real stuff while you're here, it's not all about Shakespeare and singing shortbread tins y'know."

"And Americans aren't all about big cars and guns."

He grinned back at her, "nice one, you got some brains inside that blondie head of yours."

"Why you," Buffy knew he was only joking, but she wasn't about to let it go. She picked up a wet dishtowel and threw it at him, "have you looked in the mirror lately?"

Spike intercepted the dishtowel and bunched it in his hand. "That' s no way to treat a guest, Summers." He jumped up and came towards her, brandishing it.

Buffy felt a moment of pure panic before she shot out of her chair and made for the kitchen door. He got there first and blocked it, waving the dishtowel menacingly at her. "Now what shall I do with this?"

Boy, he could do 'evil grin' when he wanted to. She shrieked and looked around, but there was nowhere else to run so she charged at him, hoping to duck under his arm, but he was too fast for her. His arm snaked out and caught her, pulling her tight against him and he proceeded to stuff the wet dish towel down the back of her tee shirt. Her frantic struggles and squeals only made him pull her in tighter.

"Nobody attacks William Giles and gets away with it, ouch," he recoiled as Buffy pushed him into the wall.

She stuck her tongue out at him, and shot out of the kitchen, pulling at the dishtowel as she went. Which way? Mustn't disturb Willow and Xander. He was after her. The lounge, she ran inside and tried to push the door closed, but he already had his arm round it. She didn't want to hurt him, so she let go and ran behind the couch, holding up the dishtowel. "I'm not - afraid - to - use - this Spike," she was hysterical now, her breath coming in short pants and she almost couldn't get the sentence out.

He cocked his head at her as he stalked slowly towards her. "Oh, I'm really, really scared."

Buffy's heart went into overdrive. Nowhere to run. She threw the weapon, gave another very girly shriek, and ran to one end of the couch.

He fended off the dishtowel and kept coming. "Gonna get you Summers," he taunted, "you can't escape."

"No, Spike," Buffy made another attempt for the door, but he threw himself at her, bringing them both down and knocking the breath out of her as he landed on top of her.

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Spike hadn't intended to squash her. She ended up beneath him sucking in mouthfuls of air, her hair tangled all over her face, his full weight on her. He rolled over onto his back, taking her with him, so that she was on top, and held on to her as they both struggled to regain some composure. "They were both still on the verge of hysterical laughter, which was pretty difficult when there was no breath to laugh with, and they lay there, chests heaving, doing nothing but try to breath and not laugh for a few moments. Eventually he found enough breath to speak. "Are you okay Buffy?"

She muttered something against his chest and lifted her head, "William Giles?"

He smoothed the hair away from her face. "That's me, you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," her face was still flushed from her exertions, her eyes luminous. "You?"

Was he okay? He had a beautiful, sexy, woman lying on top of him, her soft curves moulding themselves to his body, her scent all around him. And not just any beautiful woman. This was Buffy, who he' d been having secret fantasies about ever since the night she'd fixed his head for him. The forbidden fruit he wasn't supposed to have, but wanted desperately.

He knew he could let her go any time now, there was no reason to keep holding on to her, stroking her hair, other than he was thoroughly enjoying it, and didn't want to stop. Her t-shirt was bunched in his hand as it rested against her back, his other hand was sliding behind her head, threading itself into the hair at the back of her neck. She couldn't fail to feel the reaction he was having to her nearness.

As he shifted beneath her, her eyes widened in realisation, and she went very still. "William?" Her voice was like a soft caress, asking him an age- old question.

He pushed his hand further into her hair, and slowly brought her face down to his. "Yes?" He whispered it against her mouth, as he brushed his lips to hers, and surrendered himself to the inevitable.





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