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~*~

Buffy had expected for the next day at the diner to be worse than the day after Angel had opened his mouth about her and Spike, given that Cordy had seen their little display last night. That day, she’d arrived at the diner on her guard, ready for the onslaught of teenage pettiness that characterized Cordy and her friends.

It never came.

She was on edge when Spike came in around five in the evening. She was wiping tables down then, her apprehension lending her a violence she didn’t normally use on the poor wooden surfaces.

“Bloody hell,” he said when he saw her. “Rough day, sweets?”

“No!” She almost kicked the table she was currently cleaning in frustration. “In fact, my day was just about perfect. Everyone was nice, and courteous, and no one called me a slut!”

“That’s a problem?” Spike asked. She could hear that he was being careful…and for some reason, it enraged her.

“Yes!” she all but screamed, whirling to face him. “Spike, Cordelia was there last night! Faith was, too! Faith my friend so she might not babble, even if she does have a really big mouth, but we’re talking about Cordelia, Spike. The Prom Queen herself. She’s totally going to blackmail me if she hasn’t talked by now!”

Spike cocked his head at her, and Buffy resisted the urge to whack him—could he not see how urgent this was? Okay, it was kind of teen-movie-of-the-week-ish of her, but still…Cordelia with blackmail material was like Norah Jones with a microphone. Only scary, scary things could result.

“You sure ‘bout this, luv? Maybe she knows it won’t do her any good.”

“Who’s the teenager here, me or you?” Buffy demanded good-naturedly. “The Prom Queen is the biggest bitch in Sunnydale, Spike. There is no chance of her keeping this to herself.”

“Bit cynical, don’t you think?”

“Not about Cordy,” Buffy said firmly. “She’s evil, Spike.”

Her boyfriend just laughed. “Whatever you say, pet. After you’re done cleanin’ we’re going to the movies, right?”

Buffy froze. They’d made this date almost a week ago, but…”Sorry, I can’t,” she admitted, ducking her head.

Spike frowned. “What d’you mean, you can’t?”

“I kinda promised Willow that I’d go with her and Oz to the movies…she’s wicked scared of going alone,” Buffy admitted. It hadn’t been something she’d wanted to do, but her friend had been so incredibly nervous that Buffy had agreed almost before thinking twice.

“And I can’t tag along, eh?” Spike voice was dry; he knew what her answer would be.

She thought she knew what her answer was going to be, too, until it popped out of her mouth. “Sure.”

Spike blinked. “What?”

“Um…well, I think I said it was ok.” Buffy bit her lip. I guess I could tell Willow we’re gonna double-date…but it’s Spike! My ten-years-older-than-me boyfriend!

So? Another part of her shot back. He’s your boyfriend, which means that unless you decide to boink him in the middle of the theater, it’s totally okay for you to take him.

“Buffy, pet?”

“Sorry,” she apologized, coming out of her reverie to smile at him. “I was having a devil on the shoulder moment.”

“Oh, really?” He moved closer, until he was almost pressed up against her. Buffy gulped and fought hard—no, not hard!—to remember that they were in the middle of her dad’s diner. “An’ what was this devil ‘f yours sayin’?”

“He was telling me to take you to the movies, just as long as I didn’t kiss you or anything,” Buffy said perkily.

Spike’s face fell. “You coulda played along at least a little…”

“Hey, just be glad I didn’t tell you what the angel was saying. She didn’t want you to go at all,” Buffy teased, pressing up against him ever so slightly.

Spike shuddered. “Point taken. So, the movies is a date?”

“A double date,” she corrected primly. “Willow and Oz will be there.”

“Right, then,” he said, releasing her reluctantly. “Meet you there in an hour?”

She grinned at him. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

~*~

Deciding what to wear? Really not easy.

She’d been friend with Spike long enough that he’d probably seen every single article in her wardrobe before…but this whole date thing was putting new pressure on the all-too-familiar quandary of what she should wear.

Finally, she just grabbed a jean skirt and a purple top, and to hell with consequences. This whole date was so generic and—tame was the only word that came to mind—that Spike ought to be glad she was even dressing up at all.

Besides, knowing him, he’d just sit there and talk about how much he wanted to get her out of the clothes.

Lecherous old man.

But even as she thought it, Buffy was grinning. He might be a lecherous old man, but she loved him for it, just like she knew he loved her for being a pervy teenager. With them, that was just the way things worked.

Now, if she could just convince everyone else of that, life would be peachy with a side of keen.

“Buffy!” her mom yelled suddenly.

Buffy finished applying her lipgloss. “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it!” she yelled down the stairs, grinning.

“I know,” her mom replied. “Spike’s here to pick you up!”

“Crap,” Buffy muttered. She’d told him not to come get her, but had he listened? No, because his stupid, bleached, British ass never listened to anything she said.

“Butthead,” she muttered, before grabbing her purse and running down the stairs…

Into a scene straight from last night’s rerun of Cops.

“If I catch you with so much as a hand on her, they’ll be finding your body for weeks,” Hank promised.

Buffy saw Spike’s eyebrow twitch, and no wonder: Hank had picked that statement up from Buffy, who’d gotten it from Spike himself.

To Spike’s credit though, he didn’t so much as smile. “’f course, sir,” he said, sounding almost as formal as the first time he’d met her parents, back when Buffy was almost thirteen. “I’ll have her back safely.”

“Oh, come on, Dad!” Buffy cut in, whining. “It’s Spike, for God’s sake. He’s the one who taught me all that stuff to do to guys who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer, remember?”

Hank relaxed slightly at that. “I’m just nervous, is all,” he grumbled. “My baby girl, going out on a date with a guy who isn’t Angel.”

“Which, given that Angel was a cheating rat bastard, is probably a good thing,” Buffy quipped. “Come on, Dad. Spike and I are going to be late!”

Hank’s scowl didn’t lessen, but he did nod and say, “You kids have fun, then.”

Joyce smiled at them both almost benevolently. “Have a nice night, Buffy.”

“I will. We both will. Nice, innocent night—bye guys!”

When they finally left the house, Spike rubbed his arm, wincing. “Think you just yanked my arm out ‘f it’s socket,” he complained.

“Yeah, well, small price to pay if it got us out of the house,” Buffy shot back.

He got into the driver’s seat. “So you say. It’s not your arm. ‘sides, if I get injured, who’s gonna drive?”

Buffy just grinned at him.

He affected a horrified face. “Oh, no. There is no sodding way ‘m gonna let you drive. You’re a bloody menace!”

“Oh, please.” She pouted. “You didn’t think I was a menace yesterday, when we—“

“That had nothing to do with driving.”

“So did!” Buffy protested. “What was that you said about steering around all the corners? And—“

“You have a nasty, dirty mind.” One of his hands came off the wheel to whack her on the head; but as soon as it connected with her hair he settled for stroking it and then rubbing her mostly bare shoulders.

“Said the guy who’s just itching to feel me up,” Buffy shot back.

“Bitch.”

“Pinhead.”

“Slut.”

“Pig.”

“And the award for originality goes to…”

“The girl who will totally not let you make out with her in the dark back of the movie theater if you don’t shut up,” Buffy said with a tiny smirk of her own.

Spike groaned but was silent; settling back in the seat, Buffy smiled, proud to have won another argument.

They arrived at the movie theater to find Willow and Oz already waiting for them. Buffy sent Willow an apologetic look. “Parents,” she said by way of explanation. Willow nodded and whispered a question; Buffy giggled and whispered back.

Oz had spent the few minutes since the couples had met sizing Spike up. Now he nodded at the older man and said, “Hey.”

Spike had been versed in Oz-speak by Buffy, so he just nodded back. “’lo.”

“Guess we’d better get into the movie.” Oz tapped his girlfriend on the shoulder. “Willow.”

“Time to go in?” Willow elbowed Buffy with a conspiratorial smile. “They want to get us seats in the back, where we can make out, and laugh at all the little preteens.”

Buffy smiled back, then turned her eyes to Spike…who, for reasons he preferred not to examine, given that he liked his delusions of masculine superiority, gulped. “See, even Willow’s getting into the naughty feelings,” she teased. “What about you?”

“If you’d come a little closer,” he all but growled back, “’d show you just how naughty I was feelin’.”

“But it’s not dark enough,” she pouted. “I can’t let everyone see you corrupt me, Mr. Kingston!”

He all but laughed at the absurdity of that statement. “Kitten, you were born with all sort of dirty thoughts in that head of yours,” he teased as they began to head towards the theater where their movie would be shown.

“Yep—and gimme a few minutes, and I’ll put my head to use.”

That last comment had Spike all but chasing after her.

~*~

A/N: Sexy action in the movie theater? Meh. I know I promised angst, but I felt the need to write some fluff…and maybe some slut, if I get enough reviews. ~_^ Bridging the Gap has been nominated at the Blood Ties awards, so please click the link to head over there and vote for me =) I really can’t say how much I appreciate all the support I’ve been getting for this fic. Thank you!





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