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5. Baby You Can Drive My Car

They had agreed to meet again on the following Saturday for the promised ‘real’ dinner and possibly a movie. While on the one hand Buffy wished that she could complete her assignment without pretending to date Spike, on the other hand she was looking forward to seeing him again. He hadn’t informed her exactly where they would be going, so she had spent the majority of the afternoon searching her closets for exactly the right thing to wear.

Jeans were definitely out – too informal. And a dress, while looking terrific, might imply that she was trying too hard, or expecting too much from a casual night out. She felt it was important that she strike just the right tone with him – one that said, ‘I’m interested, but not too interested.’ She hoped that they’d be able to discuss their relationship tonight, and she’d tell him again that she simply wanted to remain friends.

All other issues aside, Buffy just didn’t think she was comfortable leading him on while what she was really doing was working undercover to find evidence against him. Even if she was sure that said evidence would prove his innocence and not his guilt. Being duplicitous just wasn’t in her nature. She was beginning to think that even if the opportunity for undercover work came up again, she would refuse it.

She was looking forward to spending time with Spike, and knew that if things had been different she would have been totally interested in really dating him. Unfortunately things were as they were, and she would never get the opportunity to find out. Even her Agency friends were no help. Willow spent all of her time behind a computer screen, and rarely dealt with live people at all, so she had no idea what Buffy was going through.

At the other end of the spectrum was Faith. She was an experienced undercover agent, and she had no trouble at all divorcing herself from any and all feelings she might have about a suspect in an investigation. As far as Faith was concerned, it was all just a game. The undercover gig no different from her real life. Sometimes Buffy doubted whether Faith had any feelings of her own or not.

She couldn’t even confide her conflicted emotions to Xander. Xander, of course, didn’t like Spike for his own reasons. And although he had been her best friend for ages, Xander didn’t know about Buffy’s second career, and she had never felt the need to tell him. He was overprotective enough without bringing the idea of actual danger and real criminals into the mix.

She wasn’t sure what she expected from the evening, but the stretch limo that pulled up outside her apartment at seven o’clock on the dot wasn’t it. She was glad that she had opted for the black silk pants and slightly more fancy looking (although slightly revealing) white lace top. She would have felt uncomfortable sitting next to him in short skirt, and the leather pants she’d also considered would have looked far too trampy.

Another problem had been what to do with her hair. Loose implied that she hadn’t spent any time at all on it, while an upswept style would imply that she’d spent too much. Again she went for what she considered middle of the road, and pulled most of it back so that it was held by a clip, but leaving enough tendrils loose to hang down and frame her face. She was embarrassed at how hard she had worked to get that ‘carefree’ look, like it was something she had done just at the last second.

She was feeling nervous, so she met Spike at the door. She obviously knew that he was coming, and she didn’t think it was really necessary to have him climb up to her apartment just so that they could leave again. Besides, if he wasn’t going to show her his, (as he had said) she didn’t think it was fair that he get a good look at hers. House, that is. Or, condo in her case.

He’d obviously already had a complete tour of the gallery, and she didn’t want this to get any more personal than it already was. If nothing else, she was trying to keep the “you show me yours and I’ll show you mine” as a last resort to try to get a look at the inside of his house. And she really did want to see it.

Tonight he was also dressed more casually. The suit and tie were gone, replaced by black slacks and a red shirt that he wore untucked, and unbuttoned over a tightly fitting black undershirt. Looking closely she saw that the both the red fabric and the black shirt were almost translucent and she could see his chest and abdominal muscles rippling beneath the fabric. It was almost risqué, except for the black suede jacket that covered it, and which hid most of his frame, except when he moved. His hair was brushed back, and obviously held in place with gel or mousse. She thought it had looked prettier the other night at the café, when it had curled because of the rain. She wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Spike had spent almost as much time as she had preparing.

Not being accustomed to limos, Buffy was somewhat surprised when as they approached the driver came out to open the door for them. Once again Buffy was grateful for the impulse that led her to wear slacks rather than a skirt. She could see how getting in and out of this thing with two men standing over her could be problematic if she wasn’t careful.

Then there was the whole, ‘what do you say’ problem. She wasn’t quite sure how to deal with a chauffeur. All that she could think of was the hackneyed phrase “Home, James,” and she had to stifle a giggle as she wondered if the chauffeur’s name was in fact James.

As she neared the door she looked briefly at the shortish man standing at attention, she figured a brief “thank you” was always polite, in any situation. But the words didn’t come. Buffy had realized that she knew the driver, and his name was not James, although it was close.

“Jonathan? Is that you?”

Not sure how to answer a guest who he obviously knew, Jonathan stumbled for a reply. Finally he settled for something simple, “Hi Buffy. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised to find you left Sunnydale behind too.”

“Yeah. College was okay, but I didn’t see much point to sticking it out in smallville when L.A. was so close. How have you been?”

Spike was nonplussed. “You two know each other?”

Buffy figured it was her place to respond. Jonathan was obviously embarrassed caught talking to his employer’s guest. After all she didn’t want him to lose his job because of her.

“Jonathan and I were at Sunnydale High School together. He presented awards at Prom. I still have the parasol somewhere; it was a very sweet gesture Jonathan.”

“I just presented the award, Buffy. I’m not the only who voted for you.”

“You’re just modest Jonathan. I know we weren’t best friends in high school, but it’s still nice to see you again. The only people I really keep up with are Willow and Xander.”

Spike smiled. “How about we actually get in the car and start off to the restaurant? You two can continue with the ‘old home’ week on the way.”

Once they were seated, Jonathan smoothly moved the car into traffic. He wasn’t going to say anything else unless Buffy started it. He thought Spike would be okay with it, but on the other hand, Buffy was on a date with his boss. It probably wouldn’t be too cool to monopolize her conversation even if Spike wasn’t his employer. And it’s not like they were ever really friends in high school.

Buffy surprised him when she rapped on the glass as soon as they were on their way. “Do you keep up with any of the old gang?”

“Only Andrew and Warren.”

“Oh. I don’t remember Warren. And I’m not sure about Andrew. Was he our year?”

“Andrew is Tucker’s brother. I’m not surprised that you don’t remember Warren, though. He was only in high school for a short time before he transferred out directly to college. We all work for Thorndale Industries.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Spike’s a really good guy.” I never hurt to try to get in good with the boss. Especially when Jonathan was talking with his date. “You two know each other long?”

In all the time he’d known Spike, he’d never driven him anywhere with a date. Oh, there’d been plenty of women once upon a time, of one type or anther, but Jonathan wouldn’t go so far as to actually call any of them dates.

When he’d first stated working for Spike, there had been about a six month period when Jonathan had driven Spike to a different bar or night club practically every night. Spike would get so pissed drunk he could barely remember his name let alone how to get home, so Jonathan would act as designated driver. On the nights when he didn’t pass out in the bar, Spike almost invariably found some babe or other who was more than willing to spend the night with him. Jonathan would drive them all back to the house, and in the morning, after Spike had miraculously risen early and gotten himself off to work, it would fall on Jonathan to give the girl the brush off and then drive the her back to her own home. Needless to say, it hadn’t always gone smoothly.

Jonathan was infinitely grateful when Spike had decided to give up that lifestyle after a brief stint in a clinic. Jonathan had his own theories as to what had brought about the radical change in his employer’s destructive behavior. It might simply have been that the pain of Dru’s leaving had started to fade, or perhaps Spike had realized that drinking to excess was not a good long range plan, but Jonathan suspected it was something more. Maybe one of Spike’s castoffs had decided to make trouble about what had obviously been intended as a one night stand. Whatever the reason, Spike he had begun to spend more and more time at home, and hired his own in-house entertainment. But Jonathan had remained his designated driver.

So Jonathan was more than a little curious as to how Spike had met Buffy, how close the two of them they were, and whether anything more would come of it. Andrew especially would be interested in the gossip. Back in the day, Andrew had been jealous of Jonathan’s nightly outings with his employer, imagining they were actually more fun than they really were. The one time Andrew had volunteered to act as driver had been a disaster. For reasons that weren’t obvious to Andrew, the girls in the bar had apparently assumed that Andrew and Spike were together, and left them to themselves. Spike had gotten no less drunk, but he’d been mean as piss the following morning.

“I’ll take that opening to join the conversation,” Spike groused. “Was beginning to think I should just have you pull over and let the two of you get on with it.”

Buffy decided to take it in a good natured way, hoping that was the way it was intended. Besides, as nice as it was to see an old familiar face, she could never be interested in Jonathan.

“Hey you,” she smiled as she slid over to the other side of the limo so she was seated next to Spike rather than across from him. “You have nothing to worry about. I’d never dump you for Jonathan,” her eyes lit up and she glanced quickly up and smiled into the mirror so that Jonathan could see she was teasing before she continued mischievously, “that is, seeing how it’s your limo and all.”

“Very funny, pet. Say goodbye to Jonathan. You can catch up later on your own time if you like. Tonight you’re mine.” And he pushed the button to roll the window partition up again.





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