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Chapter 6

"We're not ready for a cozy French restaurant, she says, but we are apparently all set for the delicacies of fine-food-court-dinning."

"It's dirty. It's noisy. It's well lit. I can't think of a place any less romantic. Eating at the mall was a perfect idea."

Before Spike could put down their tray of food, Buffy cleaned off the table with a napkin.

"Why bother cleaning it? Let's find a different table."

"You honestly think you can find better? That one," she said pointing to her left, "is covered in barbecue sauce, that one is just sticky, and the one next to it is covered in--."

"You could've just told me to sit down and shut my gob, you know."

"I know," she shrugged. She sat and separated her salad from Spike's hamburger and fries. "Shit. They didn't mark the drinks."

"Just try one."

"What if it's the wrong one? I don't want to use your straw," she said, wrinkling her nose. When Spike started to chuckle, she gave him an irritated glare. "Fine, if you don't care, why should I?"

"This table's wobbly," Spike announced. "One of its legs is too short." He gripped the sides and rocked it side to side. "That's going to be obnoxious."

"Only if you keep moving it like that." She unwrapped two straws, popped a straw through each lid, and took a sip from the first Styrofoam cup. "Gross. This is yours."

She quickly swapped the two straws and pushed the cup across the table.

"I'm glad we got that sorted out," Spike said, accepting the drink with smirk.

"Just shut up and eat."

"As you wish." He opened his burger and dumped the carton of fries on the plastic tray. "Want to share?" he asked.

"Do you have any idea when that tray was cleaned last?"

"No. Do you?"

"That's disgusting."

"Well, there's paper on bottom, and it was perfectly spotless. Want to give it a good rubdown with your napkin just for good measure?"

"No," she replied, picking through her salad while refusing to look at him. He was making fun of her, and she did not appreciate it.

"Is that any good, your salad?"

"It's okay." It was less than okay. Most of the lettuce was yellow or wilting. She had already picked off the sorry-looking cherry tomatoes and the pieces of cucumber that she had never developed a taste for.

"We can still share. I've got a knife. I won't even touch the thing until you cut it in half."

Buffy hated that she was tempted by his offer. She looked from her meal to his and sighed. "Give it to me."

"You've never struck me as a girl who'd get squeamish about germs, not with your line of work and all."

"Regardless of who I am, or what I do, I will not voluntarily eat on or near crud. I used to spend a lot of time in the mall. I know how often they don't clean up around here."

"If you find the food court so repulsive, why are we here?"

"I already told you why," she said. She handed him half of the sandwich and took a bite out of the other half. "This is actually pretty good."

"I'm glad."

"The food court is convenient," she continued. She covered her mouth with her hand as she spoke with her mouth full.

"Especially since we're not on a date."

"Exactly."

"And if we were seen by anyone, say, one of your friends, at least we aren't at some place fancy. Then it'd be much more difficult for them to believe that we aren't dating."

"Whoa, dating?" Buffy nearly choked. "Who said anything about dating? Anyone assuming that we're on one date is bad enough, but dating? That means that more is to come, and-hell no. That isn't happening. Ever."

"Alright, forget I said anything." Instead of growing impatient, he grinned. For being so quiet earlier, he seemed to be in a very good mood.

I bet he feels better, Buffy thought, and for some reason that made her feel relieved. His face was still shaded with healing bruises and fading cuts, his eye still looked swollen and sensitive to the touch, but he was acting far from miserable.

"I might be mistaken, but I didn't think it wasn't uncommon for people to come to the mall on dates."

"Those aren't people, those are easy-to-please preteens. Once a girl reaches a certain age, she wants and expects more."

"Such as?"

"Such as what?"

"What do you want and expect, Buffy?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"What else is there to talk about?"

"We don't have to talk about anything. We're supposed to be eating."

"I'm not hungry," he said waving a dismissive hand toward the food. "You can have more if you'd like, help yourself while you tell me about your ideal dream date."

"I'm not telling you a word."

"Would it be quiet and romantic? Maybe it'd be fun and casual? Or would it involve finding a bed and not leaving it until late the next morning?"

Buffy stared at him as if he'd grown two heads and a tail. Either he was teasing her or he was suffering from a bad case of boredom. Buffy refused to think for one minute that he actually wanted to know something so personal. If it had been anyone else she might've disclosed her love of quiet nights at home coupled with ice cream, a good movie, and a great deal of cuddling. But this was Spike. Clearly he was asking just to make her uncomfortable and that was not going to happen. She'd wipe the smug look from his face.

"Why don't you answer your own question?"

"You want to know? Have I piqued your curiosity?"

"No, but there's nothing else to talk about, right? I won't be answering your question, so you'd better for the sake of our conversation."

"Wouldn't want that going to hell."

"No," Buffy added dryly. "So what'll it be? Romantic, fun, or completely sex-filled?"

"Oh, completely sex-filled of course."

Why did he suddenly look like a lion showing his teeth? Buffy wondered. Does he want me to be impressed by that macho, pig-headed answer?

"I'd have to agree with you. Remember when Riley and I were possessed by those sexually repressed teens?"

"God, don't remind me. That was a sodding freak show."

"That was probably the best date Riley and I ever went on." Buffy smiled at the memory. "We were just so into it. We were completely lost in the moment-well, it wasn't a moment, it was hours upon hours. It was amazing."

Spike's swollen eye twitched every time Buffy mentioned Riley's name. She knew Spike had never liked Riley, but it was ridiculous. "Riley and I," she paused to laugh. "Spike, what the hell is wrong with your eye?"

"I have no bloody idea." Now that didn't sound like a happy Spike. "Maybe you should check it out for me."

"I'm sure it's nothing."

"Please," he said. It wasn't a question; it was more like a demand. Buffy wasn't about to be ordered around, but she found herself lifting from her seat. Against her better judgment, she took his face between her palms and gazed into his blue eyes.

"My God," she mumbled. Had they always been so beautiful? They were just blue; they were prism-like. Blues, violets, even hints of silver...

"Buffy?"

"Yes," she swallowed. His face was still cradled in her hands.

"Does it look alright?"

"Huh?"

"My eye, pet. Does it look alright?"

His voice just startled her further. Damn that tone, she thought. Damn his stupid sexy accent.

"Buffy, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, and your eye's fine too." Without thinking, she gave the puffy skin a poke.

"Ow! Bloody hell, woman!"

She flinched. Her hands flew away as if she'd been burned. "Sorry, I-God, I don't know why I just did that," she whispered. People around them were staring as Spike continued to curse. "Be quiet. Stop yelling."

"I can yell if I bloody-well feel like it! You stabbed my fucking eye! My black-fucking-eye!"

"I didn't stab it, you baby. I poked it a little," she answered defiantly.

"Why?"

"I was, um, checking to see if it was healing correctly. I didn't think you'd cry out like a big girl."

"You could've warned me-but wait, I forgot, you don't have the decency to warn a bloke. Crazy bitch," he grumbled. He scooted in his chair, eager to increase space between them.

"You aren't seriously going to sulk about this, are you? I told you that I was sorry."

"And did you mean it?"

"Yes," she said while slipping back into her chair. She had lost her appetite. Her heart was pounding and she couldn't sit still. What was wrong with her? In the past two minutes she had used both ‘beautiful' and ‘sexy' to describe Spike, her worst enemy-no, they weren't enemies now, they were friends. Buffy laughed out loud.

"Your laughter doesn't make your words very convincing."

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It smarted."

"I'm sure it did."

"And you're sorry? Truly?"

"Yes. I'll make it up to you."

"Really?" he asked. One of his brows lifted with interest.

"Within reason! God, what are you thinking about in that twisted head of yours? Do I even want to know?"

"No."

"Spike!" she hissed. She tried not to raise her voice. "What is wrong with you? Just how hard were you hit yesterday?"

"Not hard enough. Are we done here? Would you like to keep your drink, or shall I throw everything away?"

After shrugging, Buffy sat and watched as he strolled across the food court to the trashcans.

"Got to say, I approve of the new boyfriend."

Buffy's head whipped around to the pleasant female voice. She was a tall, slender, dark-haired girl whose face looked vaguely familiar.

"He isn't my boyfriend," Buffy said. No matter who the girl was; Buffy wasn't going to let her believe that Spike was her boyfriend, not even for a second.

"Then is he your brother or something?"

"No, he's-who are you?"

As the girl laughed, Spike returned to the table. "Who's your friend?"

"I was just about to find out myself," Buffy replied. "I'm sorry, but should I recognize you?"

"I'm Jade," she girl offered. When that failed to ring any bells, she continued. "My boyfriend was a part of Riley's frat. We talked at a few parties...?"

"Oh-oh, Jade!"

"You still don't remember me, do you? Damn, and here I thought I made a lasting impression." Jade smiled and put her hand out toward Spike. "I've seen you around campus, but only at night. It's about time I learned your name."

"Spike," he said, taking her hand.

"Spike? Seriously?"

"It's a nickname. It's stuck over the years."

"Night school must be a real drag. Do you work during the day?"

"I do."

"Shoot. Then I guess that means you go to bed early."

"Sometimes."

Buffy stood. She couldn't watch anymore. She was flirting with him! He was flirting back! If she had to see him smile one more time, if she had to witness one more girl throwing herself at him... "I'll be right back, I need to--."

"I hope you can stay up this Friday night," Jade continued, not caring if Buffy came or went. "Do you work weekends? My roommates and I are throwing this party. It's a costume party. We'll supply the costumes, the food, and drinks. You should have Buffy bring you by."

"I'll do that," Spike answered. When Buffy cleared her throat, he added, "If I can fit it in my schedule. You know, school, work, going to bed early...it can eat up a lot of a guy's free time. Can't it, love?"

To Buffy's horror, he was looking directly at her when he winked.

"Buffy, I totally approve of your new boyfriend!" Jade cackled. "He's adorable! Can I keep him?"

"He's not--."

"Until Friday, Buffy. Spike, I'll see you around!"

"She was friendly," Spike commented after returning Jade's wave. "Why didn't you remember her?"

"I meet so many bimbos at school, it's hard to tell them apart."

Spike blinked, and then he added. "I'd think she'd stand out. Especially with that laugh."

"My ears are still ringing."

"You're attacking her. Why?"

"I'm not fond of her, that's all. And you shouldn't be either. Her boyfriend put that chip in your head."

"I wouldn't hold that against her. Did I hold it against you?"

"Yes," Buffy answered, narrowing her eyes.

"Right." He scratched an eyebrow with his little finger. "Well, you don't have to worry about that any longer."

"Because we're best buddies," Buffy snorted. She rolled her eyes and started to weave around and through the mass of scattered tables and chairs. Spike followed her every step of the way until they were out of the food court.

"You're mad again," she heard him mumble in her ear.

"I've been mad all day," she answered without looking at him. They continued to walk aimlessly through the mall. "I woke up in a bad mood and it's been different variations of rotten ever since."

"And it gets worse whenever I'm around." She didn't have to agree, because he was apologizing before she could get another word out. "I'm sorry about that. Pissing you off hasn't been my intention, not as of late."

"Why not? Why have you had this sudden change of heart? Is it because of last night? Do you feel like you owe me something? You don't. I didn't do much. I know I said you owed me, but that was just so you'd help me protect Dawn."

"I'd do it no matter what. She's your sister."

His reasoning set a shiver down Buffy's spine. Surely he wasn't being serious. Surely he was withholding his ulterior motives.

"Why does that matter?" she asked. It came out in a whisper. She couldn't control the volume of her own voice.

"Because you matter," Spike answered. "Because you matter to me, Buffy."
***

She froze mid-stride.

Oh, here it comes, Spike thought. If we didn't make a big enough scene earlier...

"Buffy? Hey, we're keeping up traffic."

She didn't say a word. She didn't move. She glared.

"Sorry. Sorry. Excuse us," Spike mumbled to the shoppers who were forced to walk around them. "Pet, can't we at least move off to the side? We're getting caught up in the bloody stampede."

To his relief she left the middle of the mall. Instead of heading out of people's way, she went right for one of the exits.

He followed her outside and quickly found himself cornered by the angry Slayer. His back was pushed against the side of the building. They were in a dark corner, but they definitely weren't away from all roaming eyes and ears.

"I should matter to you for only one reason," she said while keeping her voice remarkably quiet and steady. "I'm keeping you alive, Spike. Do you think Harmony's scary? I won't play games with you. If I want you dead, you will be dead."

"But you don't want me dead."

"Excuse me?"

It was one of those moments where Spike was certain his mouth had a mind of its own-a very dim-witted mind. "Like you said," he continued, "if you wanted me dead, I'd be a big pile of dust, but here I am."

"Not for much longer."

"Please," he chuckled. You need me around more now than ever before."

"Do not push me, Spike."

"Just why are you pissed now? Is it because I said you mattered to me? You have no idea! I hate to break it to you, but that's just the tip of the fucking huge iceberg!"

"What...what?"

He growled out of frustration. The tension between them was crackling like lightening. If he didn't get away from her soon, he'd do something drastic. "You're either the stupidest, most simple-minded girl on the planet, or you've got the most extraordinary case of denial--."

"Spike, what the hell is wrong with you?"

He stopped listening. His fingers were actually trembling. He wanted to touch her so badly. He couldn't think clearly. He closed his eyes, and just as Buffy started to walk away, he grabbed her. His fingers dug into her upper arms with just enough force to keep her grounded.

"Don't," he rasped.

"Are you trying to get another headache? One black eye isn't enough?"

He closed his eyes. He silently counted to three.

One.

Two.

"Let go. If you don't let go, I'll--."

Three.

He leaned in and did the unthinkable. He gave his beloved Slayer a kiss.
***





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