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Part Eleven...


Good as his word, he was back in just under
10 minutes.

Buffy watched him approach, her heart beating a
little faster. He was wearing a pair of faded jeans
and a black t-shirt that looked as though it had shrunk
a size in the dryer. The sleeves in particular fit very
snugly around his nicely muscled biceps.

His hair was a soft mop of loose waves, still damp
from his shower, and he was pulling on a short, brown
leather jacket.

"Ready to go?" he asked, holding out one hand.

Buffy nodded. He looked, and smelled, wonderful.

She placed her hand in his, allowing him to draw her
to her feet. Halfway to the door, she pulled back.

"Oh, wait...I need to pay the bill," she said, opening her
bag.

Devlin shook his head. "It's done, love. All taken care of."

"By who?" Buffy asked.

"By me. I told Tim to bring you anything you wanted."

"Oh. Well....thank you."

Those blue eyes looked into hers with definite
intent. "Don't thank me yet, love," he said softly. "I'm
just getting started doing things for you."

The words made her blush from head to toe, but he
had turned around and was pulling her along behind
him and he missed it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


In the rear parking area, Buffy handed him her
car keys. He unlocked her door and helped her
in gracefully.

As she buckled herself in, he went around the
front of her Camry and seated himself in the driver's
seat, then adjusted it slightly.

Before he turned the key in the ignition, he looked
at her. "Much as I'd love taking you someplace
elegant," he said, "it's late and I don't think we'll
find a place like that still open, so...got any ideas?"

Buffy thought for a moment. "There's a place right off
the interstate that's open 24 hours. A little coffee
shop," she suggested.

Devlin started the car. "Sounds good to me. Just
point me in the right direction."

**Me, too...**


************************************************

"Tell me about Miss Buffy."

They were sitting in the very back booth of
Sunnydale's International House of Pancakes.

Outside of a couple of long haul truck drivers,
a group of giggling teenagers, and a CHP officer,
they had the place pretty much to themselves.

In the twenty minutes it had taken them to
drive from Union Jack's to the IHOP, Buffy had
learned a couple of new things about Spike
Devlin.

Number one...that he was a careful driver, and
number two...that in spite of the fact that he made his
living from rock and roll, he had very eclectic taste
in music.

He'd fooled around with the radio, tuning it from one
station to another; jazz, soft rock, country, and even
classical. Every time a station went to a commercial,
he flipped to another one, then asked if she had any
CDs in the car.

Buffy had taken a handful of them out of the small
compartment in the console, displaying them for his
perusal. Surprisingly, he had chosen a Beatles CD,
a collection of their biggest hits.

Even though the band had broken apart years before
she was born, she had always been partial to them.
They had been her mother's favorite group, and Buffy
had been raised with their songs as the background
music for her life.

Sitting and waiting for a red light to change to green,
Devlin had sung along softly...

"I give her all my love
That's all I do
And if you saw my love
You'd love her, too
I love her..."

His fingers kept time on the steering wheel,
tapping it gently.

"She gives me everything
And tenderly
The kiss my lover brings
She brings to me
And I love her..."

Almost hypnotized by the display, Buffy had no
problem imagining him singing this song on stage.

Alone...sitting on a stool with his guitar...bathed in
the soft glow of a single spotlight...singing...

"A love like ours
Could never die
As long as I have you near me.."

Singing to her...

"Bright are the stars that shine
Dark is the sky
I know this love of mine
Will never die
And I love her..."

Buffy had been a little disappointed when he'd
turned into the restaurant's parking lot. She'd
have been quite happy to sit right there and listen
to him forever.

**********************************************

"There's not all that much to tell about Miss
Buffy."

"Come on...tell me something." His voice was a
soft invitation, seducing her into revealing anything
he might care to know.

She drew a deep breath. "Miss Buffy is...a pre-
school teacher. She attended UCLA...moved to
Sunnydale a year ago when her best friend offered
her a job teaching at her school...."

Devlin chuckled. "Okay...we've covered all the
basics. Now let's get down to the details."

Her mouth suddenly dry, Buffy picked up her
water glass and took a sip. "Such as?"

He leaned forward and tilted his head. She'd
noticed this gesture before. It was the kind of
thing that made whomever he was talking to feel
like he was hanging on their every word.

"Such as, is Miss Buffy...involved...with any-
one? Someone...special?" he asked.

Her restless heart once again began pounding
madly beneath her breast. Carefully, she placed
the glass back on the table.

"Not at the moment," she confessed.

Devlin smiled. "Happy to hear that, love. I don't like
invading another man's territory...although I will
if I have to."

"Territory?" Buffy asked, arching her brow. "You
make me sound like the Louisiana Purchase."

"No," he shook his head. "You're far more valuable
than that. And," he added, lowering his voice to a
deeper timbre, "far nicer to...explore."

***********************************************

She was saved from having to respond to his
comment by the waitress arriving with their order.

The woman was no sooner gone, when Buffy
discovered another new facet of this man's
personality. He had a serious sweet tooth.

She watched, fascinated, as he spread butter
liberally over the surface of the pancakes on his
plate, then in between each one as well.

Choosing a bottle from the selection offered,
he poured a veritable ocean of syrup over
them, until they were soaked nearly to the
point of falling to pieces.

When he caught her staring at this spectacle,
he grinned and shrugged. "I know...I'm worse
than a child, aren't I? I can't help it. I've always
been this way. I used to drive my mother crazy
by eating my dessert before my dinner."

Buffy smiled, too. Picking up the salt dispenser,
she shook it lightly over the omelet she'd ordered.

"I'm sure that's not the only reason you drove your
mother crazy," she observed.

He swallowed the bite of pancake he'd taken. "Oh,
sassy," he murmured approvingly. "I love it."

Buffy blushed slightly, forcing herself to maintain
eye contact and not let him rattle her.

After a moment, he asked, "How's your omelet?"

"It's good," she said, taking another bite. "How are
your...?" She gestured with her fork.

"Delicious." He cut off a substantial bite. "Taste,"
he offered, holding the fork out.

"Oh, I don't think so," she demurred.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to go into a diabetic coma."

*************************************************

"...but it's really all I ever wanted to do. From
the day I picked up a guitar for the first time,
I knew."

More than an hour had passed since they'd
finished eating. Absorbed with each other, they'd
paid no attention to the passing of the time,
and just sat there talking.

"Did you always want to be a teacher?"

Buffy nodded her head. "My first day in kinder-
garten? I didn't want to leave. I was in the morning
session and I tried to talk my mother into letting
me attend the afternoon session, too."

"And did she let you?" he asked, amused.

"No...she had to pull me out of the classroom to
the car, dragging my feet every step of the way.
My poor mother. She was so embarrassed."

Devlin smiled, obviously picturing the scene in
his head.

Buffy saw this. "Are you laughing at me?" she
demanded.

"Of course I am," he admitted. "It's funny."

There was light dancing in his eyes as he studied
her face.

"I want to tell you something," he finally said.

Seeing the look on his face, she clasped her
hands together on the table. "What?"

"Do you know," he began, speaking in that
husky voice, the voice she could FEEL, as
well as hear. "that you have the sweetest mouth
I've ever seen? I've been fantasizing about it since
the minute I saw you."

Buffy gulped down a lump in her throat, unable
to speak a coherent word in the face of his dis-
turbing...and arousing...remark.

Devlin reached for her hand. Turning it palm up,
he rubbed his thumb over the bracelet of lines
circling her wrist, pressing down hard when he
felt her pulse quicken.

"Miss Buffy," he said softly. "I could fall in love with
you...without even trying."

Every nerve ending she possessed was jumping
with an electric zing, just from the touch of his
hand on hers.

"Do you think," he added, lacing his fingers with
hers, "that you could fall in love with me, too?"



TBC....

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