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The stereo blared as William readied himself for his date with Buffy. He surveyed the mess he'd made of his bedroom, feeling a bit like a nervous sixteen-year-old. Every shirt and jacket he owned was strewn across the bed, having been tried on and rejected. He finally settled on a silk cobalt blue button down shirt, tucking it into the waistband of his best black jeans. A heather-gray sports coat completed his look. William glanced at his watch, realized Buffy’s arrival was imminent, and took one last glance in the mirror before making an effort to clean up the room.

A knock on the door interrupted his efforts. He gathered up the last of the clothing in one jumbled mess and tossed it haphazardly in the closet. He hurried to the door as another knock sounded through the house.

William opened the door and stood in awed silence of the goddess standing before him. The Stooges played in the background. William felt himself nodding along to the steady tempo of the song as he gazed at Buffy. “And now I’m ready to feel your hand, and lose my heart on the burning sands. And now I wanna be your dog, now I wanna be your dog.”

He realized he was still staring right about the time Buffy smiled enigmatically. “Are you going to ask me in, or not?” she asked. Her Mona Lisa smile was becoming more of a smirk by the second.

William swallowed. He wasn’t sure he was entirely in charge of his own body. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, come in, please.” He stepped back from the door and watched Buffy as she moved past him into the living room. “You look…” his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You look fantastic, kitten.”

She really did. She wore a short sleeved, off-the-shoulder dress in a blue so dark as to be almost black. The skirt flared out sharply from her waist and ended just above her knees. A blood red sash wrapped around her waist, complimented by her deep red lipstick. Strappy red high-heeled sandals emphasized the curve of her calves and gave her an extra few inches of height. Her stormy eyes were nearly level with his as she passed him. Her hair was arranged in a carefully messy updo; a simple silver chain graced the delicate bones of her neck. Every cell in his body strained toward the silken, creamy expanse of her bare back and shoulders

William licked his lips. Buffy folded her hands primly in front of her and deftly avoided his gaze. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked. He glanced at his wrist. “Although our reservation is in twenty minutes…” He turned away from her as he closed the front door. Looking at her confounded him; seeing her lustrous skin, the soft tendrils of hair that fell to her sharp collarbones, made him dizzy.

“We should leave, then?” Buffy questioned gently. She was watching him obliquely; he knew she was aware of the effect she had on him.

William nodded. He took a deep breath, and just like that, he was once more in control of both brain and body; that eerie sensation of watching himself from afar dissipated. He held his hand out to Buffy. He briefly brought her fingers to his lips when she placed her hand in his. Then he tucked it securely beneath his arm and led her to his 1959 DeSoto. The whitewalls gleamed in the late evening sunshine; he’d had three days to prepare for this night, and a good portion of that time had been spent polishing his baby till she shone.

William ushered Buffy into the passenger seat before hurrying around to get in the car himself. He started the car and the engine purred smoothly as he pulled out onto the street.

***

Buffy was quiet during the drive to the restaurant. William had chosen a high-toned French bistro nestled among the foothills west of Sunnydale. He ushered her into the restaurant, leaving his car in the hands of the pimply-faced valet. The silence that had sprung up between them in the car remained as they were shown to their table.

William held Buffy’s chair as she sat down. She glanced up at him as he walked to his seat. “I’m impressed,” she said once he was facing her.

“Really?” William smiled at her, the picture of a polite English gentleman.

Buffy nodded seriously. “Very impressed. I’ve been in your company for at least half an hour, and you have yet to insult me, or try to pick a fight or, y’know, threaten to tie me up. Did you get brain-sucked or something, 'cause you're being, like, scarily not a jerk.”

William leaned back in his chair, tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans, curled his tongue behind his teeth, and gave her his best leer. He was gratified to see the blush that swept across her tanned skin. “I promised, din’t I?” he smirked. Then he sat up straight with a quiet laugh. He took her hand in his. “I meant it, pet. You’re going to have to beg if you want me to be bad.”

Buffy laughed, too, leaving their hands clasped for a minute before pulling away from him. William immediately missed the contact with her warmth, but the mood between them felt easier, more comfortable. As if now, they could try at being friends.

***

William poured the remainder of their second bottle of wine into Buffy’s glass. Buffy moved her hand toward the glass in a half-hearted protest against his actions. “Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Pratt?” she teased.

William nodded his head. “Absolutely, kitten.” Their waiter glided over to the table as William placed the empty bottle in the wine stand.

“Would you care for anything else to drink?” the waiter offered.

William glanced at Buffy and caught the slight negative movement of her head. “Two espressos, please,” he ordered. “And dessert?” He watched Buffy’s eyes light up at the mention of sweets. “Something chocolatey and decadent.”

Buffy groaned as the waiter walked away. “Ugh, I’m going to burst, William. I don’t think I have room for dessert.”

“You know you want it,” William said with a smile. He picked up his wine glass and took a small sip. “We can go dancing next, burn off all those delicious calories, yeah?”

Buffy grinned. “Sounds wonderful.”

They chatted easily as they shared the rich chocolate torte. Inconsequential conversation; he talked about his family, answered her questions about growing up in England. She was fascinated by the idea living in a place with so much history.

“It’s all so… old,” she explained. “Like Stonehenge. It kind of blows my mind to think about how old that place is. Did you know it took, like, seventy generations to construct it? That is some serious dedication.”

As they sipped their strong coffees, William inquired, "What’s your family like? Are they around here?”

Buffy bypassed her espresso in favor of the rest of her wine. She looked down at the table as she spoke. “My parents got divorced when I was ten. We moved here, my father stayed in LA. He came to visit a couple of times, but after about a year, the visits stopped. He sends cards once in a while, for birthdays and stuff.” Buffy trailed one finger idly through the swirl of chocolate sauce and crumbs that were all that remained of the dessert. She raised her eyes to his and smiled boldly as she licked the chocolate off the slender digit.

William’s brain short-circuited as he watched her little pink tongue swirling around the tip of her finger. “Uh… he sounds like a right git,” he managed eventually.

“You don’t want to hear about my crazy family,” Buffy said matter-of-factly. William opened his mouth to protest, but she waved him off. “I’m enjoying myself,” she said. “I’d rather not… I just want to have fun with you tonight, okay? I don’t want to drag up all my family baggage.”

William nodded in agreement and took her hand in his. “So let’s go have some fun, pet.”

***

The Bronze was loud and crowded when they arrived. William mimed drinking and pointed at the bar, eyebrows raised. Buffy nodded. “Diet coke, please,” she said close to his ear.

Once he had their drinks in hand – soda for Buffy and a beer for himself – he returned to where she stood near the entrance. “I think I see an empty table in the back,” she informed him. He followed her past the busy dance floor to an unoccupied table just beyond the pool tables. They sat in silence for a bit, Buffy's eyes scanning the crowd and William's eyes fixed on Buffy. She glanced at him and smiled. Then she stood up and took hold of his hand.

"Dance with me?" she requested. He quickly drained his beer and followed her to the dance floor.

Conversation wasn't possible, both because of the volume of the music and because William's mouth was too dry to speak. Buffy threw herself into dancing with obvious relish and he was helpless to do anything but watch her shapely figure move in front of him. She turned her back to him and leaned against his chest. He let his hands rest lightly on her hips, moving his body in time with hers. She warmed up as they danced, a soft sheen of glistening sweat coating her skin. Her scent - her jasmine perfume, the floral scent of her shampoo, and that other odor that was pure Buffy - wafted over him, into him, as they danced.

They stayed on the dance floor through several fast-tempo songs. When a slow song started playing, Buffy turned in his arms. She slipped her arms around his neck and twined her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. William closed his eyes briefly and relaxed into her touch. She smiled at him when he opened his eyes, then snuggled against his chest. He tightened his embrace around her as they swayed to the music. They continued their slow swaying even after the song ended and another loud, fast tune came on. William pulled back from Buffy a bit, looked in her eyes. She gazed back at him, an indefinable expression on her face. Then she closed the small space between them and kissed him lightly. His arms convulsed around her back, pressing her as close to him as he could. He explored her mouth slowly, langorously.

They were both breathing hard when they broke apart. They stood together a bit longer, an island of stillness among the mass of gyrating bodies surrounding them. Buffy pressed her lips to William's ear. "Please take me home," she said, a hint of laughter in her voice. "I'm begging you."

William buried his face in the gentle curve of her neck, trying to catch his breath. After a moment he smiled at her. "My pleasure," he answered. "Let's go."

They were out the door in record time. Halfway across the parking lot, arms wrapped around one another, they collided with a tall, dark-haired girl. William placed a steadying hand at the small of Buffy's back.

"Buffy Summers!" the girl said. "I haven't seen you in ages."

Buffy smiled thinly. "Hello, Cordelia."

Cordelia raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly from Buffy to William. "Are you going to introduce me to your... friend?"

Buffy sighed. "Cordelia, William. William, Cordelia." William could feel the tension radiating off of the girl by his side. He moved his hand in soothing circles up and down her back.

The other girl nodded dismissively at William before turning her attention back to Buffy. "Well, look at you. Those shoes are very... last year. Your arm candy's improved since the last time I saw you, though."

William glanced at Buffy from the corner of his eye. She had a saccharine sweet smile plastered on her face. "So glad you noticed, Cordy. Say, weren't you supposed to be in Paris this summer?" Buffy clapped a hand over her mouth in mock-horror. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I totally forgot about your dad's little run-in with the IRS. Did he ever make bail?"

William tried to suppress his laughter as Cordelia huffed and flounced away. "Remind me never to get on your bad side, pet."

Buffy turned impish eyes on him. "That was bad of me, wasn't it?" She didn't sound as if she regretted it in the least. She twined herself into his arms, brushed her lips across his neck and jawline. "So, where were we, Mr. Pratt?"

William tugged her closer to him and insinuated a leg between her soft thighs. He pretended to think about her question for a bit. "I think I was about to take you home and show you just how good I can be when I'm not on my best behavior."

Buffy kissed him hard. "Lead on, then," she commanded.

With a willing smile, William did exactly that.

***

William's eyes popped open when he felt Buffy slide out of his grasp. "Where you sneakin' off to, kitten?" he murmured sleepily.

Buffy leaned over him, warm and naked. She pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Just gotta use the bathroom," she whispered. "I'll be right back, promise."

William smiled as she left the bedroom. His eyes slipped closed, but he stayed awake until she was back in his arms.





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