Spike swore under his breath as he yanked the wrench around. He didn’t have enough room to do the work comfortably and the shop’s one lift was already being used. He could wait and be there all night or he could squeeze under the damn car and try to make it work. He’d chosen the latter and it sucked. He pushed himself from beneath the car, blinked as his eyes adjusted to the brightness and stood up. “Mack, how much longer you gonna be on lift.”
Mack, a large man wearing a Hawaiian shirt with his standard navy mechanic’s pants stretched as he pulled his hands down and looked in Spike’s direction. “Fuck if I know, Spike. There’s some amateur shit in here. May have to rebuild the whole engine.”
He sighed. “Want a hand? I can’t do shit here without the lift.”
Mack nodded. “Sure.”
Spike wiped off his wrench and put it away. He was heading over to see Mack when he heard someone say his name. He turned to see a small blonde girl talking to one of the guys on the other side of the large garage. Buffy. It had been a couple of days, and he’d wondered if she was going to bring in her car. He watched the other guy point in his direction and saw her turn around. She smiled as soon as she saw him. It felt like getting punched in the stomach. He watched her walk quickly towards him, her ponytail swinging in time with her bell-shaped skirt.
“Spike,” she said. “I wanted to bring you these. You know, to say thank you for helping me.” She held up a basket.
Spike stared at it.
“You don’t have any food allergies, do you?”
He shook his head and watched her pretty pink lips curve back into a smile. They were shiny, like she’d just put on lip stuff.
“Good. I’d hoped not.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“I mean I would hate to make you cookies and then find out that you can’t eat cookies. Oh!” She frowned. “But maybe you don’t like cookies.”
“Everyone likes cookies, girl.” Charles Gunn, the only guy he worked with that he’d honestly call a good friend walked up behind him. “He loves cookies.” He reached out and took the basket form Buffy’s hands. “I’m Gunn.” He smiled charmingly, his dark eyes crinkling in the corners from the width of his grin.
Spike had no idea why it pissed him off, but it did. Buffy smiling back at Gunn only irritated him more. He wondered if Gunn was her type, but quickly dismissed the idea. He was certain that a lot of woman found his buddy attractive but this girl dated clean-cut preppy assholes. He already knew that. “Did you bring in your car?” He asked slightly more brusquely than he intended to.
She blushed. “My mom had already taken it to a shop,” she said apologetically. Why did she think he’d care?
“Good.”
“I just wanted to say thank you again.” She licked her lips. “And, you know, bring by the cookies.”
“Okay.” He nodded.
She nodded a couple more times before turning and walking away. Spike tried not to notice her well-shaped ass. “Oh.” She stopped and turned around again. “They’re chocolate chip.”
Gunn laughed. “He loves chocolate chip.”
Spike turned to scowl at him and missed her leaving. “Don’t you have work?”
“Cute girl, Spike.”
“Shove off.”
“Not your normal type.”
“She’s not—it’s nothing. Found her fighting off some country club shithead the other night and gave her a lift home. That’s it.”
“Ummhmm.” Gunn grinned. “She seems awful grateful for that ride.”
Spike glared. “She’s just a kid, mate. Leave it alone.”
“Fine.” He sighed. “But only if you share the cookies.”
Spike shoved the basket at him and stomped away.
*************************************************************************************
Buffy played with her French fries and sighed. “How do you make a guy like you? You know, if he doesn’t like you and you want him to.”
Her best girlfriends looked at each other and laughed.
“He likes you.” Cordelia said shaking her head and flipping her long dark hair back over her shoulder, before giving a toothy grin. Cordelia’s dentist adored her and loved to claim credit for the smile she’d been born with. Cordelia claimed the man had proposed a half a dozen times already, but Buffy suspected she was exaggerating.
Anya, whose shoulder length hair was blonde this week but likely to be red by the following, nodded in agreement. “You’re very pretty.”
Buffy shook her head. “No. I’m really sure he doesn’t like me.”
Her friends looked skeptical but made sympathetic sounds anyway. Buffy always thought that was one of the best things about having girlfriends; they’re always on your side.
“Have you tried doing the thing where you touch his arm and say his name?” Anya asked before finishing in her typical straightforward manner. “Guys usually like that.”
“I haven’t really had a chance to do that.” Buffy admitted.
“Then I’d say try that.”
Cordelia frowned. “Who are we talking about? Not Rick?” She sneered delicately.
Buffy shook her head emphatically. “No way. He’s…he’s a total jerk.”
“So….”
“It’s no one you know.” She took a sip of her soda and glanced around the diner. It was a dingy place with a menu that heavily featured foods found in TV dinners, but it was very close to campus so they ended up there at least once a week for lunch or what passed as lunch. For Buffy it was a big plate of French Fries today and, as she dipped another one in ketchup, she vowed to eat an actual green vegetable at dinner that night.
“That guy in your geography class?” Cordelia didn’t give things up easily. She also liked to think that she knew every attractive man in the tri-county area, had considered all of them and selected the best one.
“No. Really, you don’t know him.”
“Have you considered offering to have sex with him?”
“Anya!” Buffy felt her face get hot.
Her friend simply shrugged. “Guys like that.”
Cordelia started laughing hard.
Buffy turned her incredulous glare onto her.
“She’s not wrong,” Cordelia said, holding her stomach.
Buffy stared at them both for a few more seconds before breaking into the giggles herself.
Later, as she helped her mother make a salad for dinner, she found herself thinking about it again. “Mom, you know how you always say that you knew Dad was the one the first time you met?”
Her mother froze and looked up slowly. She nodded. “Sure, Buffy. Why?”
“How did you know?”
Her mother put the knife she’d been using down on the table and folded her hands. “I guess it was just a feeling.”
Buffy nodded. “Like he made you feel safe but also sort of…excited?”
Her mother’s eyes grew wide and Buffy wondered if she’d answer. After a moment, she nodded. “Yes, I suppose so.”
Buffy grinned. “That’s what I thought.” She dumped the mushrooms she’d been slicing into the big bowl and stood up. “Thanks, mom.” She kissed her mother’s cheek. “I have to do something real quick before dinner. I’ll be back soon.”
“Buffy, honey, where are you—”
Buffy held up a white paper bag. “I just have to drop off the muffins I made earlier. You said food was the way to a man’s heart, right?”
She didn’t wait for an answer. She just hoped he was still at work. She glanced at the clock as she started the car. It was nearly five but he was probably still there. She drove over quickly and parked next to an old station wagon with a big yellow ‘for sale’ sign. Pushing down her nerves, she checked her makeup in the rearview mirror and, clutching the bag of goodies, hopped out of the car. She wished she’d thought to put on a prettier outfit before coming. Her tan capris and blue tank top were fine for hanging around at home, but a nice dress would have been better for visiting.
She spotted him quickly and headed his way. “Hi, Spike!” He turned around and frowned at her. She tried not to let it bother her. “I brought you some muffins.” She showed him her prettiest smile and held up the bag.
His gaze dropped to the bag for only a second before focusing back on her. “Why?”
“They’re muffins. You eat them. They’re blueberry—I made them myself.” His staring made her nervous and when she was nervous, she babbled.
***********************************************************************************
Spike stared at the girl. Once was odd, but this…this was too much. What was she thinking? He heard Gunn laughing and glanced over his shoulder to glare at him for a second before turning back to the girl. “Look, pet.”
“Buffy.”
He frowned.
“My name is Buffy.”
“I know.”
She shrugged. “You never say it.”
“Why would I? Why would we be talking?” He saw the flash of hurt in her hazel green eyes and wished he’d been a little gentler.
“We’re talking right now,” she pointed out.
“Yeah, but why? I have work to do.”
“Oh.” She nodded. “I didn’t mean to interrupt; I just wanted to bring you the muffins.”
He sighed. “Why are you bringing me food?”
“I thought you’d like them.”
Spike saw her hopeful expression and nearly groaned. “Right.” He nodded. Fuck, but she was a cute little thing: big eyes, bouncy hair and just enough curves to warm a man’s blood. He took her elbow. “Come here.” They were attracting too much attention; he guided her to a slightly more private spot. “Look, you’re very cute.” Her instant smile was almost enough to kill him. “But I don’t do cute.” He watched her eyes widen. “So thank you for the—”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“What? That’s not the point.”
“So, no? No girlfriend.”
Cute, but clearly insane. “This...” He gestured back and forth between them. “Isn’t going to happen. I’m not gonna take you to the malt shop and hold your hand or be your date for the bloody prom.”
She laughed. “Since it’s not the nineteen fifties, I would hope not.” She shook her head and grinned. “Also, I went to the prom last year…right before I graduated.” She said it slowly like maybe he wasn’t clever enough to follow.
Spike frowned; he’d guessed she was about sixteen. It seemed like he needed to tack on a couple years. It didn’t matter though. It wasn’t enough to change things. “Good for you, princess.”
“Now I’m taking classes at Sunnydale U.”
He nearly rolled his eyes. “Good. Great. Now you can go find yourself a nice college boy and bring him your goodies.”
“I don’t want to.”
Spike sighed again. “Then don’t. It doesn’t change things. I’m glad I was able to give you a hand the other night, but that’s it. Got it?”
She bit her bottom lip a little while she studied him. It was a nice lip. The girl had a gorgeous mouth. She still wasn’t his type. Spike didn’t date nice little girls. What the hell was he supposed to do with her? Buy her ice cream and watch cartoons? She was smiling again. He watched in horror as she placed her hand on his arm. “Just enjoy the blueberry muffins, Spike. I made them for you.” She smiled once more and then left.
Gunn was waiting when he went back out on the floor. “I see your girl came back.”
“Not. My. Girl.”
“Come on, man. That girl is all about you. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the way she swings her little—”
Spike shoved that bag in his friend’s face. “Blueberry muffins.”
Laughing, Gunn opened the bag. “Damn, these smell great. Think she’d go out with me?”
Spike rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna help me with this carburetor or not?”
“Yeah, yeah….let’s do it.” He re-closed the bag and dropped it on the counter before following Spike back to the ancient red truck they were trying to will into life for the fourth time.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank You for all the lovely words. I hope you like chapter two. Let me know. :) Thanks to Puddinhead for beta-reading and support.
Chapter End Notes:
Thoughts? Come on. :)