Chapter 12: Perfect Evening… (?)
Lost in her thoughts, Buffy did not hear Dawn come in her room. She was staring at her reflection in the mirror, trying to decide what she would tell him.
“So, tonight is the big night?” the teen said cheerfully.
Buffy almost jumped, startled by the intrusion. She turned to her sister, finding her in the process of scrutinizing her outfit.
“Isn’t it a bit much?” Dawn said pensively. “You’re going to scare the guy… Oh wait, it’s Spike we’re talking about. Don’t change a thing!”
Turning back to the mirror again, Buffy inspected herself. The silk chiffon dress was a deep dark red, with black reflects. It showed nicely her cleavage, but not too much of it and had long sleeves, so sheer they were like a mist . It also and most importantly clang to her like a second skin, stopping just above her knees.
“You think he’ll like?”
“No. I think he will love it!” Dawn assured. “And speaking of the devil.”
They could hear the door opening, and Willow talking to someone. Buffy felt a shiver run through her.
“Oh God, he’s early! And I still have to do my hair! Can you.”
Sending Dawn to announce she was almost ready, the Slayer started brushing her hair forcefully. She was feeling more nervous at the prospect of her evening with the vampire than she had had when confronted to some of her near-apocalypses.
Spike was talking with Willow when Dawn came down the steps. He was pleased to see that Red looked much better. Not completely like her old self, but still considerably better.
He was only half surprised as the Nibblet explained that the Slayer was getting ready. She seemed to take an awful lot of time dressing for patrol these days. Did the girl think she would find a date walking out in cemeteries? She certainly appeared to dress accordingly. He tried very hard not to comment on it, tried not to think about it, but his nights were long and lonely after patrolling with her. His days were worse.
At the proposition of a cup of cocoa, he followed the teen and the redhead in the kitchen. Their chocolate wasn’t as good as Joyce’s used to be, but they still had the little marshmallows he liked.
“Mary and Jean told the whole school about you,” Dawn was blabbering. “Just not that you’re a great teacher, but that you’re so hot too! Half the girls at school want to take lessons from you!”
He choked on the hot cocoa and arched an eyebrow at her. Then he heard Willow’s stifled giggles. He shifted his glare from Dawn to Willow. “Oh please! They’re babies!”
“Yeah, and that makes you a cradle robber!” she laughed.
He shook his head, finally noticing that Dawn was glowering. “They are not babies! I am not a baby!”
“Of course not, Nibblet,” he tried to repair. “What I meant is, with someone as old as me, everybody else is like a baby. If I was dating a sixty-years old lady, I would still be more than twice her age!”
Willow giggled even louder, while Dawn’s eyes narrowed. “Gross,” she said with a disgusted tone.
He was going to reply when his gaze fell on the apparition standing behind Dawn. She was simply breathtaking.
“Good evening Spike.”
It took him a couple of seconds to force the words out. “Slayer. I see you took my offer finally. So I’ll be on my way to my merry patrol, and you just have fun with. the lucky guy.”
He rose from his chair, making sure to close his leather jacket around him. Still, Buffy must have noticed the effect she was having on him, because a small smile appeared on her bright red lips.
“I thought you two were going together?” Red asked suddenly.
Spike tilted his head, looking questioningly from one girl to the other.
“We are,” Buffy said on a decided tone. “Spike just didn’t know about it.”
With that, she kissed Dawn’s cheek, leaving a faint mark of lipstick, before walking to the front door. Had the Nibblet actually whispered “good luck”? Good luck for what?
Spike realized Buffy was waiting for him, and, without thinking, he joined her.
“Luv? What is going on here?”
She didn’t sound so sure anymore as she answered: “I thought we could go out for a change. Patrols are so quiet lately.”
“We as in you and me?”
His voice came out much less assured than he would have wanted it. Hers was no more than a whisper. “Yes. You and me. Ok?”
Shaking himself from his stupor, he nodded and opened the door for her. To his surprise, she took his arm as they started walking.
“Uh, Slayer? Were are we going?”
“There’s a new French restaurant just two blocks away.”
He nodded again, her words barely touching his conscience. What game was she playing? Was it some new kind of torture? Or maybe it was a test. To see whether he could remain a gentleman and keep his hands to himself, or if he would turn into the beast he had proven to be. Well, if it was a test, he would pass it with flying colors. He had passed trials more difficult when he was in Africa. The wind turned and he caught a glimpse of her scent. Well, maybe not more difficult. This could prove to be harder than anything he had ever faced. Yes. hard was the word. Cursing himself mentally, he forced his thoughts away from the delectable woman on his arm, trying to focus on anything but her. This was going to be the longest night of his unlife.
And long it was, though pleasurable. Caught up by the ambiance of Le Bistro, he all but forgot this was not a date. He actually had a great time, talking with Buffy about everything except vampires and slayage. He told her a little about his stay in France, conveniently forgetting anything that was related to Drusilla. He even tried to teach her a few French words, though she wasn’t very cooperative.
As they were walking back to Revello Drive, he noticed that she was shivering in the fresh air of the night; he draped his coat on her shoulders, receiving in exchange a beautiful smile.
“Spike?”
“Yes Slayer?”
They had finally reached the Summers home. All lights were out, but Spike saw Dawn’s curtains moving slightly, and wondered briefly what she was doing up so late. He returned his attention to the lady in front of him who was handing him his coat back. She was looking almost shy, which wasn’t an expression he remembered seeing on her face before.
“I had a great time.”
“Me too, luv. Thank you.”
He had been truly anxious at the beginning of the night, but now was glad he had not opted out.
“We have to do that again soon.”
“Sure. Just warn me next time.”
He gave her his trademark smirk, ready to say goodbye. However, the words remained in his throat as Buffy’s face rose toward him, her lips brushing against his almost hesitantly. He shivered at the contact, as if electricity had run through his body. Her touch became bolder, her tongue running against his lips, seeking entrance. He closed his eyes and parted his lips slightly, giving her access to his mouth. She probed gently, delicately, caressing his tongue as her fingers entwined in his bleached locks.
He gave in.
Of their own accord, his arms encircled her, holding her firmly against his body. His tongue began returning the attention it had received, rubbed hers, and discovered it as if for the first time all over again. They had shared many kisses, but none so tender.
When she finally broke the kiss, he almost moaned at the loss.
“I love you Spike.”
He could have sworn his heart started beating again as she whispered these words he had once wanted to hear so badly. He had waited for them so long, needed them so much.
But it was too late.
Letting go of his embrace, he took a step away from her. “This is wrong, Slayer, and you know it as well as I do.”