“Okay, Buffy. Time for the big entrance,” Buffy said to her reflection as she readjusted her dress and cleavage. She grabbed her purse, turned off her light and walked towards the stairs. Her heart seemed to be pounding in her chest harder and faster with each step that she took. She knew he was down there, waiting for her, even without hearing the doorbell to give her warning. She could feel him, and it terrified as well as excited her. She took a deep, calming breath and continued slowly down the stairs…

*****

“Spike, you look a bit nervous,” Dawn commented, taking in his rigid demeanor and death grip on the innocent flower stems.

“What? Me? Nah, just waiting patiently…”

Dear God. Get a bloody grip Spike thought. Just as he was focusing on not being a nervous Nancy, he heard as well as felt her presence on the stairs. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. He stood up with a strong feeling of concern washing over him, and walked towards the bottom of the stairs.

“Buffy, you alright…” He trailed off when he first got a glimpse of her luscious legs. The light flutter of the pale blue dress she wore set off the tan on her toned legs nicely, while the heels accentuated her calves. When he stepped directly in front of the bottom of the stair case, her breath hitched in her throat at the sight of him. Good to know I can affect her like that too. He loved the simple pale blue halter dress that she wore. It left her shoulders bare, and displayed an ample amount of cleavage. Involuntarily, Spike began to match Buffy’s rapid breathing. They stood there, him at the bottom of the stairs, her in the middle, staring at each other breathing intensely.

Dawn, noticing Willow shifting uncomfortably on the couch and unsure of what to do, stood up and said, “Hey, don’t you think you crazy kids should get out of here?” That seemed to shake Spike from his staring contest with Buffy.

“Oh, right. You look lovely, pet.” He shifted the flowers uncomfortably. To him, it felt like Dawn and Willow had accidentally witnessed a private moment. His nervous fiddling brought Buffy’s eyes to the roses.

“Oh, Spike…” she said softly, heading down the stairs. The flowers were absolutely gorgeous. It was the third time ever she had received flowers from a man, and receiving those from Spike, meant so much to her. He brought them in semblance of their special occasion, not because he was canceling and not because he wanted to send her some sort of perverse message of wanting to torture her. He was merely showing his affection.

She took them gently from his hands and smelled the delicate petals. They looked unbelievably velvety and unreal, but they were. She recalled the last time she received blood red roses— they were from Angelus. She focused on the big yellow one in the center.

“Yellow?” she asked.

“Yea. Cause um, we started in friendship. Sorta.” She looked up at him with a huge smile.

“I love it.” He gave a half nod with a hint of a smile for a response.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah. Willow? Can you put these in water?” Buffy asked her, extending the flowers in her direction before getting a response.

“Sure. And remember: have fun, but don’t drink and drive,” Willow said as she took the flowers to the kitchen.

“What time will you be back?” Dawn asked.

“Um… don’t wait up. Kay?” Dawn gave her a sinister smile.

“Yuh huh. Night guys,” Dawn called as she headed upstairs. Spike opened the door for Buffy and motioned with his hand for her to step outside. She did as he silently asked and crossed the threshold onto the porch.

“So, where are we going for the evening?” she asked as he entwined her hand with his, walking down the pathway.

“You know, they don’t call it a surprise for nothing, luv.” Buffy merely pouted to his back as he climbed onto his motorcycle. She got on behind him silently, and wrapped her arms tightly around his torso.

Spike ended up driving them to a new restaurant in Downtown Sunnydale called L’Olivier. It was absolutely lovely as well as terribly romantic with its French antiques, and the main dining hall opening up to an outdoor patio filled with fresh flowers. Candles lit every table top, and Buffy loved the elegant ambience.

“Can we get a table outside?” she asked him.

“Of course.” It was a Wednesday night, so the restaurant wasn’t packed. They had their pick. Once they were sitting and settled down, orders in and enjoying a glass of wine, a thick silence began to permeate the air.

“Well, this is certainly much nicer than our last date,” Buffy commented.

“Last date?”

“Well, there was that time at the Bronze, kinda. It could have been construed as a date. And oh! That time in your car and the bogus suspects, and I probably shouldn’t have brought that one up.”

“S’alright. Just makin’ small talk. So, when was the last time you been on a date anyway? Excluding my first two lousy attempts, of course.”

“Um… I dunno. Probably before my mom got sick…”

“Oh.”

“What about you?”

“Me? Dates… Huh. Haven’t been on a real date in… Probably decades. Maybe longer.”

“Really? You and Drusilla didn’t-”

“After awhile you just get to that comfortable stage, you know? That and Dru had been sick for quite a bit.”

“What about Harmony?” He merely arched a brow at her.

“Never mind.”

“Say… You told Dawnie bout us?”

“Well I mean, couldn’t exactly keep it a secret, could I? Considering we live in the same house, and you were picking me up and all.”

“You could have avoided that if you wanted to. Could have met me somewhere,” he said quietly.

“I know. But I… I didn’t want to. Dawn’s my sister, and she was totally excited about it. She adores you, which I’m sure you’re aware of. She had been asking all kinds of questions that I wish she didn’t know about.”

“Like what?” Buffy took a deep breath, a bit embarrassed that Dawn had asked such a thing and that she was now about to repeat said thing to Spike.

“She… more or less asked if we were having sex.” Buffy mumbled before taking a gulp of wine. Spike’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

“Bloody hell! You’re serious? Nibblet asked you that?” he asked with a squint of his eyes, slightly leaning forward in his chair towards her.

“As a heart attack.” Spike suddenly began to laugh uncontrollably. Buffy couldn’t help but smile as well.

“And what’d you tell her?”

“Pretty much ‘no comment.’ I am so not ready to have those kinds of talks with Dawn. In fact, I’ll probably never be ready for talks like that.”

“But are you ready for conversations involving the ‘r’ word with me?” Buffy looked confused for a second before an “Oh” expression bloomed across her face.

“‘R’ as in relationship, right?”

“Yes.”

“With you.”

“Yea…” he said with a hint of impatience.

“Well, it has its possibilities,” she said thoughtfully.

“Is that so?” Buffy looked at him for what seemed like a long while.

“Yes,” she said simply, quietly. “But you have to understand, Spike. I still need time. Relationships with men haven’t exactly been my strong point.”

“I understand.” Buffy’s eyes widened at his reply.

“Really? Just like that?”

“Just like that. It’s something that you’d prefer to ease into. I get that. Besides, if Red and Dawnie know, and you’re really to treat this like a real relationship with public outings, then I can be content with that. I can compromise, you know.”

“Ok. I um… I’d like to know more about you— truthfully.”

“What? I mean… what is it you want to know?”

“How’s about your real name for instance?”

“Oh…” He was extremely silent for a moment.

“Come on, William. Tell me.” Spike clenched his jaw briefly before replying in a slow, measured tone.

“William. Jameson. Pratt. You laugh, and suffer the bloody consequences.”

“What? No, it’s a nice name. Sounds so… proper. And English.”

“Well, I was. Proper, I mean. Before… ‘Proper’ manners, ‘proper’ education… But it just didn’t fit quite right as a vampire. Hard to be tough and swagger when you’re all sheltered and proper.”

“I guess a badass nickname does work better.”

“Yea, that and I got tired of everyone calling me “Willy.” Terribly annoying, it was.”

“How old were you when you were turned?”

“I was... I almost made it to my twenty-seventh birthday.”

“Any siblings?”

“No.”

“Were ya… did you ever marry?”

“No, Buffy. I was never married,” he said solemnly, looking at his wine glass. Buffy gently touched his hand on the table.

“Hey, it’s okay. Marriage really isn’t what it’s all cracked up to be. My parents were genuine proof of that.”

“Is there… is there something else you wanted to know?”

“I’m sorry if this, my questions made you uncomfortable. It’s just… You know so much about me. You know nearly everything about me, my family, my friends and personal life. You were there for a lot of the life changing moments in my life too. I didn’t know much about your personal life beyond Drusilla, and your vampiric age and what those silly watchers knew, which wasn’t much, by the way. I was just curious.”

“You wanted to know what the man, what William was like, right?” You wanted to know what I was like with a soul.

“If it’s alright with you.”

“Well, ‘proper’ certainly described William back then. I liked poetry. Come to think of it, I still do, actually.”

“To read?”

“To read, to write…. Though apparently, I wasn’t very good at it. The writing aspect of it.” Spike gave a laugh that wasn’t joyous or bitter, but just simply was. “But I loved to write it all the same.”

“Do ya still?”

“God, no.” he lied with ease. Poetry, even if he didn’t always write it down, would always come across his mind. The words would just flow easily together in his thoughts unbidden, and sometimes unwanted. The summer of Buffy’s demise, he became inspired greatly by his grief. It was his way of release, so he wouldn’t wallow in the pain. He couldn’t avoid the temptation of writing a few of them down… But she could never know.

“Why? I’m sure it was lovely.”

“Thanks ever so, luv.”

“No, I’m serious. You gotta give me something, Spike.”

“What?”

“Write me something.”

“Buffy…”

“Oh, fine. Well at least… Tell me what you really thought bout me the first time you saw me.”

“That’s easy. The first time I saw you was in the Bronze. You were on the dance floor with Willow and Xander, looking incredibly provocative. There was just something about you. Made me quite randy too.” Buffy just looked at him- mouth agape for a moment before she collected herself.

“Was it cause I was the Slayer?”

“No. It was… it was just you, Buffy. Sure, I had at first wanted a fight to the death before I even saw you or knew who you were, but I will admit that that first time, I felt there was something special, something different about you.”

“If you hadn’t been involved with Drusilla, do you think things would’ve been different? I mean, would you have approached me differently?”

“Initially, I probably would’ve tried just to piss off Angel a bit. But I’m sure it would have only been a matter of time before I fell for you. If Dru hadn’t been in the picture, then I wouldn’t have you to blame for her leaving me, and thusly wouldn’t have hated you so much. But here’s an even better question, luv.”

“What?” she asked with slight trepidation.

“Well, if Peaches- if Angel hadn’t been in Sunnyhell when I first showed up, and I approached in a non ‘fight to the death’ sort of way, not crashing your party and messing up your doilies and such, would you have accepted my proposal?”

“Oh, come on, Spike.” She gave him a grin. “I always thought you were hot. And if when we first met you hadn’t been trying to kill me, then yeah, I would’ve gone out with you.”

“Even without a soul?” He did that sexy head tilt of his as he asked; eyes slightly squinted as if he were trying to figure something out.

“Well… I mean, once I found out, I would have totally freaked. But, this would have been pre-Angelus, coincidentally pre-emotionally damaged Buffy, so, maybe.” Spike pondered to himself quietly at that.

“Um, Spike? Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yea. Sure. It’s just… is that why you’re being hesitant with me? Cause I don’t have a soul?” Buffy looked away from him, and gave a silent sigh.

“I suppose.”

“Buffy, we’ve already been… quite intimate with each other, and I haven’t done anything remotely homicidal.”

“But you have a- ”

“What? The chip? It doesn’t stop me from burning your house down, or one of your mates. Or from being a total bastard to you—don’t need my fist and fangs for that. And anyway, my chip doesn’t work on you luv. And guess what? I could care less. I won’t hurt you, Buffy.”

“I know,” she admitted quietly, large hazel doe eyes boring into his cerulean ones.

“Then why keep bringing it up and harpin’ on it when you know that I wouldn’t?” She seemed slightly ashamed of herself when he said that. She looked at him with sad eyes.

“I don’t know, Spike. I don’t know what’s wrong with me… But I do know that I want to be with you.” Spike grasped one of her hands in both of his on the table.

“I know you do. I know. Just wish you’d stop fightin’ it, is all. Just let yourself go.” And she truly wanted to be able to let herself go completely and just surrender her heart to him. Trouble was, she didn’t know how to anymore.