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Disclaimer: not mine. EVIL!!!

this chap goes out to: Kerry, VamptasticA, theladyofspike, and CordyKitten!!! thank's y'all!
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Buffy kept her eyes trained on Willow, refusing to turn her head around and see the man behind her. Refused to admit that he was real, that he was there. She smiled warmly at something Willow said about William.

“I mean, he’s just so cute! With his big blue eyes, and little fingers…” Willow gushed, turning her attention back to her blonde haired friend. She was pretty sure that Buffy was fully aware that the peroxided movie star was staring holes into her back. He would occasionally glance at the two men at the table, say a few words, nod, and then turn to look at Buffy again.

She remembered the shock she had felt when her friend had showed up on her doorstep on the morning of July 18th, shirt inside out, and tears running down her face. She had sat on the couch, head in her hands, and told Willow the whole sordid tale.

Willow, who had also been an avid fan of Spike Giles, became one of his most loyal haters. Every time that she saw him on a movie poster, she would make a face at it.

Every time she heard one of his songs on the radio, she would change the channel.

Every time she heard teenaged girls talking about how sweet they heard he was, she would turn around in and uncharacteristic rage and inform them that her friend had met him, and he had ‘wham-bam-thank you ma’am-ed’ her. Since the town was so goddamned small, every man, every woman, and even every child, teenager and their cousins in different cities knew what had happened to the happy, peppy blonde, and knew who was responsible for it.

And every time that she saw her godson…she would thank that stupid, bleached Brit that he had allowed this child to come into the world.

And then she would internally curse him for the circumstances of which the child came about.

This child was so pure…so happy and bright, that it astounded her that he was the product of a drunken one night stand. This child should have been created with love and tenderness, not drunken stupidity. This child’s mother shouldn’t have had to raise him by herself.

This child’s father should have stayed around.

This child’s father shouldn’t be glaring holes at her friend.

This child’s father…would never, EVER, hurt her best friend again.

She would make damn sure of that.

---

Spike was trying his hardest to listen to Ethan Rayne as he drawled on and on about his new film idea, really, he was! It’s just…it was as if the blonde kept on drawing him back in.

After locking eyes with her, her green orbs had grown cold, and a frown took over her pretty features. She had turned away from him and back to the red head, picking at her napkin.

He had taken a small step towards her, but the hand on his arm, and the disapproving glare of Angel had him sighing and turning towards the table.

So here he was, trying to listen as the elderly man explained his idea, while an irritated looking red-head sent glares in his direction every once in a while.

But SHE wasn’t the one he wanted to be turning around to look at him. No, he wanted the petite blonde to be the one to turn around and pay him some attention, dammit!

But she was ignoring him, talking to her friend. They talked for a bit, before pushing their chairs out and standing up, getting ready to go. The blonde slung her purse over her shoulder and placed her jacket over her arms before pushing her chair back in. She turned around, and her eyes flickered towards him, before settling on the exit. She began to walk towards it, chin high in the air, her red haired friend following her. She left the building about 30 feet ahead of the other one, and Spike stood up, ignoring the protests from his dining mates, and began to walk towards the exit, trying to stop her.

But the person he came face to face with, was her cutie pie friend.

“Listen up, bub,” she said, eyeing him with evident dislike. “She knows you’ve been looking. And she didn’t look back because she wants nothing to do with you. So, leave her the hell alone, and get out of Sunnydale. You aren’t welcomed here.” She turned her head away, as if the sight of him disturbed her. “Sunnydale hates you.”

And with that, she left the mega-movie star standing in the restaurant, a confused look on his face.

“‘Sunnydale’?” he echoed.

---

“Oh, god, Will,” Buffy sighed, letting her head hit the head rest behind her.

“I know, Buffy,” Willow said as she buckled herself in. “That was hard, wasn’t it? Seeing him there?”

She nodded, burying her head in her hands and letting a few tears trickle through her splayed fingers. Willow rubbed her back comfortingly, and after a few minutes, started up the car.

Buffy sniffed and sat up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Okay,” she said, gaining her composure. “Just get me home to Will.”

Willow nodded and put her foot on the gas, setting off towards 1630 Revello Drive.

---

Spike opened the door to his hotel room, sighing.

Everywhere that he had gone tonight, he had gotten dirty looks or glares. Several people had turned away in disgust at the sight of him, and several had given him the finger.

He was un-used to this kind of treatment; more used to the kind where teenaged girls wanted to HAVE him, and men wanted to BE him. He was used to being stopped on the street by a fan who wanted an autograph. He was used to being stalked by the paparazzi and having his picture being splayed on billboards, magazines and posters.

But now…he couldn’t find a single magazine with his picture on it. He was used to going into a 7-11 and finding every magazine imaginable with his face printed on it, but in this town…

…there seemed to be no. such. Thing…

…as Spike Giles.

Guess the red-head hadn’t been lying.

This town hated him, and wanted him gone. _________________________________________________________________
TBC…





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