Oddly enough, the inspiration for this came from something one of the designers from Project Runway said. Weird. Anyway, I don't own Clueless or BtVS
Spike's first order of business upon descending on L.A. was picking new vamps for his entourage. And he had just the girl in mind. She was resourceful, determined, clever, a born strategist, and had that sweet innocence that always made for a really deliciously twisted vampire. Plus, she had a knack for grooming that Drusilla would appreciate. His love always liked to have someone to pet at her and dress up with her. And if she took to this girl, all that time he spent pampering his vicious black kitten could saved for other purposes. Like building and maintaining an evil empire.
He saw her nearly every time he staked out that vampire-fast-food complex: the Galleria. With her zest, boundless confidence, and killer looks she stood out in the in-crowd. She demanded attention. She demanded respect. And as a member of his new posse, she'd demand those things for him. If she, with all her charms deferred to him, everyone who stood in awe of her would hold double awe for him. It was a sort of feudal situation, and an awesome system. It was the chief reason why so many vamps were gorgeous specimens of their sex. Well, that, and the thought that, if you were going to have to look at someone for a century or more, they might as well be attractive. Vampires of Spike's level only turned the unattractive for use as cannon fodder.
This girl was destined not to be food or readily disposable grunt labor. She was going to be much more fun than that.
She wasn't too challenging to catch, though she did struggle with him to the end. It was an excellent sign. She was just what the doctor ordered.
She woke up confused and hungry, like most new vampires. Honestly, the knowledge that there was a supernatural was often more shocking than the discovery that they were a part of it. After her first meal (which she ate more carefully than most ravenous fledges, careful not to spill that most staining of all substances on her attire), Spike decided it was time to start her lessons.
"Right, so, Cher, was it? We'll have to change that. You won't want to stand in the shadow of the original. I've known a good many of our kind less ageless and terrifying that that chit. Something to aspire to, that is.
"Now, as your sire, it's my job to tell you what you need to know to get along. You'll find that your unlife will be much different from what you've known before. Vastly superior, obviously, but very different.
"Lesson the first, luv. Vampires don't wear plaid."