Author's Chapter Notes:
Okay, I think folks are going to enjoy this extra long chapter. :) If you do, please let me know.
Extra Special Thanks to Puddinhead for beta-reading and enthusiasm!!!
The Clash’s I Fought the Law blared through the garage’s speakers as Spike finished replacing a timing belt in a Toyota. He didn’t often work on the weekend, but when he did he took advantage of the opportunity to play something he liked.

As he worked, he wondered if he’d finish before Buffy came by or if she even would after he’d scared her the day before. And he wondered if her not coming was what he truly wanted. The question grew moot when she strolled in shortly after noon wearing a blue tank top and a white skirt that nearly reached her knees. She was carrying a basket.

“Hi.” She seemed almost shy. The idea amused him. He had himself a shy stalker. Of course that wasn’t entirely true since he could no longer claim that he hadn’t encouraged her.

He smiled. “Hi, yourself.”

She held out the basket. “Oatmeal raisin.”

“My favorite.” He took the basket, flipped the napkin she’d placed on top to the side and snatched out a cookie, taking a bite immediately. He nodded. “Good.” He held the basket towards her.

She shook her head. “I had one before they were cooked.”

Spike laughed. “I can’t remember the last time I ate raw cookies.”

“Should I just bring you the dough next time?”

“No.” Spike put the basket down on a bench. “You shouldn’t bring me anything.”

She laughed. It was a pretty sound, light and soft. “That’s not gonna happen. It’s barely been over a week. I could never give up so easily.”

“That so?”

“Yup. Besides, you like me.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” She grinned triumphantly.

Spike dropped down to sit on the bench beside the cookie basket. “Any big plans tonight?”

“Why? You gonna ask me out?”

He chuckled. She was cute, all right and not wrong; he did like her. He liked her way too much. “I am not asking you out. I was making conversation. Seemed like the polite thing.”

She sighed wistfully. “It’s just as well. A few of us are getting together for a friend’s birthday tonight.”

“And what does that look like? Cake and ice cream?”

She nodded solemnly. “Yes, and then, if my mommy will give me tokens, we’ll go to Chuck E. Cheese.” She laughed. “There’s a Thai place over in Greenspring. We’re meeting there.”

He wondered if he could get her to call him Daddy. That was the kind of thing that was so wrong it might just end up back on the side of right. Maybe she’d wear knee socks.

“Spike?”

“Huh?”

“Where’d you go?”

“Umm…I uh, I guess I was thinking about work.” Or about bending you over one of the cars and flipping up your skirt. Fuck, he thought, I’m a bad, bad, man.

“Oh.” She looked sad for a minute. “I guess I shouldn’t be holding you up this long.”

“Not your fault. I’m bein’ bad company.” He pulled out another cookie. “Thanks for these. They’re brilliant.” Maybe he could just friend-zone her. That could work.

Her cheeks turned a particularly tasty shade of pink and he wanted to lick them. Yeah, that’d be friendly. He’d bet anything though that she tasted like strawberries and cream. “I’m glad you like them,” she said. Her eyes were wide and taking on the glossy sheen she’d gotten the night they’d met. It was the look that said she thought he was a hero. He knew he needed to persuade her to the truth, but for just a minute it was damned nice to bask in that worshipful gaze. It was almost enough to make him want to be the sort of man that deserved such things.

“You should probably go get ready or something, I suppose.”

“Yeah, this is okay for a drop off cookies outfit, but I’ll need to put together a night on the town outfit.”

Spike couldn’t help grinning. “You’d best do that then.” He paused for a few seconds before adding, “I won’t be here tomorrow.”

“I figured.”

“Yeah.”

“So, I guess I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Unless you meet a nice guy while you’re out and about and decide to stalk him instead.”

She giggled again. “Not gonna happen, Spike.”

“A man can dream, can’t he?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Have a good weekend.” She turned and walked out.

“You too, love, have a good weekend,” Spike called out, wishing that he didn’t suspect her visit would be the highpoint of his.

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

The oatmeal cookies were followed by lemon bars on Monday, pumpkin muffins on Tuesday and peanut butter cookies on Wednesday. On Thursday, Buffy decided it was time to up the ante. She was making progress. She knew it. Spike hadn’t admitted it and he’d certainly come no closer to kissing her or asking her out , but his requests for her to stop baking or to bring her treats elsewhere were clearly becoming an inside joke and a couple of times now he had eaten one while she was still there. Buffy really liked watching his mouth while he ate.

What she needed was a really impressive recipe, a treat that would knock his socks off. She sat at the kitchen table flipping through her mother’s old Betty Crocker cookbook and sighing. “Mom,” she called out. “What’s the best, like most impressive, cookie?”

Her mother’s laughter flitted in from the living room. “I’m not sure there’s an answer to that question, sweetie.”

“Arghh!” Buffy closed the book. “But I need a really good recipe.” She stood up and walked over to pout at her mother from the breakfast bar that separated the two rooms. “A special recipe.”

Her mother sighed. “Honey, have you ever considered that maybe this guy isn’t—”

“He’s the one, mom. I’m positive.” Buffy could see that her mom was skeptical but she wasn’t about to be deterred.

“If you’re sure.” Her mom shrugged. “You said he’s British, right? Maybe you can find a recipe for shortbread cookies or scones?”

Buffy grinned and bounced on her toes. “You’re…awesome! That’s a great idea!” She hurried back into the kitchen and dropped to her knees in front of the low shelf that held the cook books. Surely there was a recipe for British treats in one of them.

Three hours later she walked into the garage carrying a large paper bag filled with cream scones. She’d followed the recipe exactly, despite it containing a few odd steps that seemed unnecessary to her. They were yummy. She was sure of that, but she just hoped they tasted right. Her stomach churned from nerves. She gave Gunn a little wave as she passed him and headed to the car that Spike had been working on the day before. It apparently needed a lot of work, as he was once again bent over working on the engine.

Buffy couldn’t help but notice that his butt looked especially nice. The thought brought a smile to her lips and a touch of heat to her cheeks. “Hi,” she said cheerfully.

Spike stood up, turned and stretched. “Right back at you, kid.” His tee-shirt was too short, when he raised his arms over his head it rode up leaving a patch of pale but well-muscled stomach bare. Buffy’s mouth went dry.

“You all right?” His forehead was crinkled slightly and his head tipped to the side.

“Huh? I mean, yeah…I’m good. I…umm…I brought you…”

He laughed. The sound made her thighs ache. She wondered if that was why he did it. Could he possibly know how much his laugh affected her?

“Scones.” She pushed the bag towards him. “I thought maybe you’d like something from home, your home.”

His eyes widened and he just looked at her for a second before opening the bag. “Thanks, kitten. This is…this is nice.” He nodded for a few seconds. “Come in back with me. I have something for you too.”

Buffy’s heart nearly bounced out of her chest. He had something for her? She hoped it was a kiss. Oh yeah, she was definitely voting for a kiss. She followed him with as much coolness as she could muster into the break room next to the office. They were alone. She nearly squeaked with excitement. He had obviously brought her to a private area to kiss her. She grinned, pleased that she’d had a tic-tac before coming in.

She waited as patiently as she could while he washed his hands, even though it seemed to take forever. He scrubbed all the way up to his elbows with an ugly plastic brush and orange soap before leaning down to rinse it all off. He turned back to her as he dried off with a couple of paper towels. “There, on the table.”

Buffy frowned. Huh?

He pointed to a large brown grocery sack. “I figured your cupboards must be about empty by now.”

Buffy looked at the bag; it was not a kiss. “Oh. I thought you were…”

“What did you think?”

She almost groaned out loud. “Nothing. I was confused. It’s not important.”

His eyebrows were arched high on his forehead. “You sure you’re all right?”

“Yeah. Definitely of the good.” She gave him a big grin before walking over to the table to look inside the bag.

“It’s just flour and sugar and whatnot. I asked a girl at the market and she helped to pick out some stuff.”

He’d given her flour. What did that mean? And why did he have to get some other girl to help him at the grocery store? She wondered if he’d flirted with the other girl. “Oh, that was nice of her.”

“Did I get the wrong stuff, love?”

Buffy shook her head. “No, this is great. This should keep the cookies coming for another week easy.” She smiled. “Thank you.”

He shrugged and looked away. “It’s nothing. Like I said, I felt bad thinking that you used up all you food on me.”

“That’s sweet but, at the risk of ruining any chance I have of convincing you that I’m not a child, I should admit that my mom pretty much gets all the groceries. And, she doesn’t mind my using them to bake things for you.”

“Your mum is aware that you bring baked goods to a strange man every day?”

“Yup.”

“And it doesn’t bother her?”

Buffy couldn’t hold back a giggle at his expression. “Actually, she said I should invite you over for dinner sometime but I figured you weren’t ready for that yet.”

“I’m not much of a ‘bring home to meet the folks’ type.”

“If you say so.”

“I’m not kidding.” He frowned at her. He was seriously sexy when he was frowning. Her fingers itched. She wanted to reach up and trace his lips.

She licked her lips. “Okay.”

“Don’t you have classes this afternoon?”

Damn! She glanced at the clock and nodded. “Yeah, I have to hurry I guess.” She reached out and gathered the large bag in her arms. “Thanks again.”

“Here.” He held out his hands. “That bag’s bigger than you. I can bring it out to the car.” He stepped closer and took the bag from her, his hands brushed across her forearms.

Buffy inhaled quickly at the contact. “Thanks.” She sounded breathless.

“Lead the way, pet.” He tipped his head towards the door.

“Right.” Buffy spun around and walked back out through the garage and to her car. When they got there, she opened the hatch in the back and waited while Spike placed the bag inside.

He reached up, closed the hatch and smiled. “You’re all set. Best get to class.”

“I like your eyes.” Her own eyes widened and the blood drained from her face as realized that she’d spoken out loud. “I mean…” She turned away. “I just mean that those are nice eyes…to have.”

He chuckled softly. “I wear contacts, so I’d say they could be better.”

“I meant—”

He reached over and gave her ponytail a tug. “I know what you meant, kitten.” He chuckled again and shook his head, but he was giving her such a soft look that she couldn’t help smiling back. He pulled his arm back down and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You don’t want to be late.”

Buffy was pretty sure that she couldn’t care much less about being late at that moment but she resisted the urge to embarrass herself again by telling him that. She nodded and opened the front door. “See you tomorrow.”

Spike nodded once before he turned and walked back into the garage. Buffy waited until the door was closed behind him before she put the car in drive.

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

Of course he noticed when she didn’t show up on Friday, but he wasn’t worried. Okay, he was a little concerned, but only because she’d seemed rather dazed the day before. Spike figured she had gotten busy or had too many classes that day. It wasn’t a big deal. It’s not like she had to come see him.

When she didn’t show again on Monday, he was officially worried but too cool to admit it. On Tuesday, he was still cool, but he did drive by her house a few times. The house was there and looked exactly the same as it had the night he’d given her a ride home, but her car was not in the driveway.

By midday on Wednesday, when he had not seen her for nearly a week, Spike started to wonder if she had actually moved on. He knew the idea should have made him happy, but it didn’t. More importantly, he didn’t think it was true. She’d seemed no less intent on her plan when she’d last been by.

When he drove by that night, her car was there. He stopped his bike on the other side of the street and looked at the house. A couple of lights were on. Maybe she would walk by a window and he’d know that she was fine.

After a few minutes, the front door opened and she stepped out on to the porch. She was wearing pink and green striped pajamas and she wrapped her arms across her chest. “Were you going to come up and knock or just stare from the street,” she called out.

Spike sighed. She was the stalker. Why did she get to play this cool? He stepped off his bike and walked, slowly over to her. She looked tired, but otherwise fine. “I found myself wondering if you’d gotten into more trouble.”

She smiled. “You were worried about me.”

“A little.” Spike shrugged. “Thought you might be sick.”

Her smile wilted like flowers left on the backseat of a car. “My mom was…I had to take her to the hospital last week.” Her eyes clouded for a moment. “She’s better now. I brought her home yesterday, but I’ve been taking care of her.” She looked up at him. “Do you want to come in?”

“Oh that’s not—I don’t want to disturb—”

“My mom is sleeping upstairs. You won’t bother her.” She grinned suddenly and impishly. “Of course with her just upstairs you also don’t have to worry about me jumping you or anything. Should be safe.”

Yeah, he thought, that’s exactly what I’m worried about. He chuckled. Spike knew that if things ever got out of hand between them it was going to be his fault. “Alright.” He nodded and followed her in the front door, through a tidy living room filled with beige furniture and into the kitchen.

She pointed at the stools next to the kitchen island. “I was going to make some cocoa. Do you want some or, I mean, coffee?” She winced.

“Chocolate sounds great.” He watched her gather a pot from the rack, chocolate from a cabinet, milk from the refrigerator and sugar from the bowl. Apparently Buffy didn’t use a mix. “Do you want to tell me what’s happening with your mum?”

She tensed for a few seconds, her hand jerked splashing the milk she’d just poured into the pot. “She’s going to be okay. Really. It’s just a bad flu, some weird strain. But since my dad—died—it’s just us. So…”

Spike knew he should stay seated on the stool, but he found himself walking over and placing a hand on her shoulder anyway. “You were scared.”

She nodded without turning around.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all that.”

She shut off the stove and turned around. “Would it be okay if I gave you a hug?” Her eyes were lowered but he could see a few tears trapped in her lashes.

Spike reached over and cupped her cheek, raising her gaze up to his. “Should probably warn you, I might steal a kiss if you do.” He watched her eyes widen slightly before he slid an arm around her back and pulled her to him. She rested her cheek against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. He squeezed her tightly and pressed his lips against the crown of her head. She smelled sweet, like cherries and vanilla maybe. He wasn’t certain, but he liked it.

She laughed softly. “That doesn’t count.”

“No?” He wondered if it would count if she knew that he could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra. He gave her another squeeze before stepping back. “I guess you got off lucky then.” He rubbed his thumb over her cheek before walking back to the stool he’d been seated at.

She turned the stove back on and, with far steadier movements, continued making their hot cocoa. She looked tiny in her flannel pajamas, but somehow watching her slice the chocolate and whisk the milk with such quiet efficiency made her seem older. He supposed it was simply because they seemed like things his Mum would have done.

He accepted the steaming mug she held out a few minutes later with a smile. “Thanks, kitten.”

“It’s still hot, so—”

He laughed. She might be taking the whole mum thing a bit too far. “I’ll try not to burn my tongue in my impatience.”

“Good.” She nodded as her gaze settled on his mouth. He watched her cheeks turn pink and had to shift on his seat. She was the kid but his cock apparently reverted back to age fourteen in her presence. “Oh!” She looked up. “Did you want marshmallows?”

“The little ones?”

“Yeah, for the cocoa?”

“I love the little marshmallows.”

She giggled and put her own mug down on the counter. “Okay, then.” She walked back to the cabinet she taken the chocolate from, opened the door, rose up on her toes and reached for the top shelf. After a few moments, Spike went over to help. He stepped behind her and snatched down the bag from its spot three centimeters beyond her fingertips. If he inched his feet forward even the tiniest bit, Spike knew the entire length of their bodies would touch. He imagined resting his hands on the counter, trapping her in his arms and tasting her pretty skin. He’d start at the spot where her neck met her shoulder. Just the thought of closing his lips there made him moan deep in his throat.

She gasped and slowly turned to face him. Spike took a single step back and held up the bag. “You want to go grab a pizza tomorrow night?”

Buffy took the bag of marshmallows and nodded. “Yes.”

“Alright then, we’ll do that.” He turned and walked back to his seat. He needed to keep the kitchen island between them.

“Spike?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t look up. He kept his gaze on his mug and took a tentative sip. “This is good. Best I’ve ever had maybe.” He placed it back on the counter. It was still too hot.

She reached over and dumped several marshmallows in. “What’s your real name?”

“Does it matter?”

He didn’t see her move, but suddenly she was in front of him, putting her small hands on his knees and stepping close. “I just want to know.”

“What if it’s Eugene or Francis?”

She giggled. “Then I guess I’d understand why you prefer Spike. Is it Eugene or Francis?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Tell me.”

He brought face down so their noses almost touched. “What do I get if I do?” He could see chest rising and falling quickly but couldn’t be certain whether that meant she was scared or she was excited.

“What do you want?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

“Unh, unh. Not how this works. You have to make me an offer. What are you willing to give?”

“For your name?” She licked her lips. He could feel her hands trembling against his knees.

“How badly do you want it?” She swayed just a little and he took her elbow in his hand. He shouldn’t be playing with her, not like this, but he couldn’t help himself. “How bad, kitten?”

She leaned in and he knew she expected him to kiss her; instead he brought his mouth close to her ear and spoke very quietly. “If you’re not ready to make an offer, you’ll just have to wait.” He sat back and reached for his mug.

Buffy lifted her hands off his knees and, still shaking visibly, began unbuttoning her top. She had two undone and was starting on the third when Spike grabbed her hands. “Whoa, pet. What are you doin’?”

“Making an offer.” Even her voice trembled, but she lifted her chin and met his gaze.

Spike pulled her hands down. “You’re overbidding. You have to start with something small, like extra marshmallows.” He carefully redid her second button.

“You’ll tell me your name if I give you more marshmallows?” She frowned.

“’Course not. But that’s where you start.” He caught her chin between his thumb and pointer. “Then you’ll try offering some cookies or maybe a bit of cake. Eventually, you’ll work your way up to offering me a kiss.”

“And then you’ll tell me your name?”

“And then, I’ll tell you my name.” He slid his thumb over her bottom lip. “It’s William and I like it well enough, just prefer Spike.”

“William,” she said his name quietly and he knew she was just testing the feel of it but he found that he liked the way her mouth moved when she said it.

“Say it again.”

“William.”

He swallowed hard. “Good.” He slid his hand around to cup the back of her head, pulled her mouth to his, and kissed her. He knew he should keep it soft, a beginning to get to know you kiss. He knew that, but he kissed her the way he wanted to anyway, sliding his tongue over her lips to taste the hot chocolate on her tongue. She melted against him, clutching the sides of his jacket and trying to match the movements of his mouth. He bunched her shirt in his hand at the small of her back so two of his fingertips rested on her skin. She whimpered and pushed herself against him.

She’d never hidden her interest in him, but until that moment Spike had assumed it was a simple crush because he’d helped her when she’d needed it. It was suddenly clear that she felt the chemistry between them every bit as much as he did. She wanted him. And that made it all the harder to pull away. He did anyway.

“Oh.” She stared at him with wide eyes as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Yeah.” Spike nodded.

“But I never actually offered the kiss.”

He laughed and took a couple of long sips of chocolate before standing up. “Kitten.” He dropped a quick, closed mouth kiss on lips. “You’ve been offering up that kiss for weeks now.” He touched his finger to the tip of her nose. She had a particularly adorable nose. “Is seven too late tomorrow?”

“No. That’s—that’s good.”

“Alright. I’ll pick you up then.” He frowned. “Do you need anything first? Want me to fetch groceries or medicine for your mum?”

She shook her head. “No, but thank you, I ran out for a few minutes when she was napping this afternoon.”

“As long as you’re set.”

“I am.”

Spike walked to the door with her following. He turned. “Good night, little girl.” He licked his lips and smirked. “Don’t you go thinking naughty thoughts about me tonight.” He watched her cheeks go red and chuckled. “Just teasing.” He leaned down. “You feel free to let your mind go wherever it wants. Guarantee mine’s dirtier.”

He turned and walked away.


Chapter End Notes:
Thoughts? Come on. :)



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