Title: the One
Prompt: Future: Utopia
Medium: Fic
Rating: PG
Warnings: language
Summary: Spike hasn't met the women he wants to spend the rest of his life with, and it's starting to get suspicious. Then he bumps into Buffy. Companion piece to 'Mr. Right'.

A bad day was a rare occurrence in the year 3908, but for Spike they seemed to happen more often than not. Well, maybe it was a bad idea to think of himself as 'Spike'. His nickname wasn't exactly accepted out in public – it was too scandalous for the Councils taste.

'Wankers' he thought gruffly as he gathered his suit jacket in his arms and began the tiring walk home. His car was deemed 'unsafe' by the Council, and now he could only drive it in the country side or in designated leisure areas. His job, while very accommodating, didn't supply him with the finances to go out and buy a Council Approved vehicle.

Oh, he followed the rules. He didn't want to end up like that prat Angelus or his ex, Drusilla. He liked having his personality completely, one hundred percent in tact, thankyouverymuch. It was already bad enough that he was 33 and single. Most men would have already found an appropriate wife and gotten married. He'd hoped it would be that way with Dru, but after she had a mental breakdown in the middle of the square she was carted off to a corrections facility. She came back a completely different from the woman he had fallen in love with.

He jogged down the street, keeping to the designated walking speed as he tried to get home through the surprisingly well organized crowds. He stuck out with his bleached hair and earring, but the Council hadn't gone that far yet. He still had his sense of style.

He rounded a corner and grunted in surprise when a small blonde body connected with his chest, causing the poor girl to go stumbling backwards. He felt his patience snap.

"Bloody hell, watch where – I mean, sorry."

Rule Number One: Always Apologize.

Instead of looking affronted, she smiled up at him and pushed herself up off the floor. She offered him her hand.

"Buffy Summers." She introduced, "Nice to meet you."

Rule Number Two: Always Accept the Apology

Spike's eyes widened in surprise and a slow cocky smirk stretched across his face. The girl was a spicy little number, dressed semi-casually in a white blouse and khaki slacks that teased him with her small but perfect cleavage. He felt his body react accordingly, and he knew that he had to have this woman.

"Names William." He said, shaking her hand and suddenly pulling her body close against his, "But you can call me Spike. Her cheeks flushed and she smiled coyly.

"You wanna go out sometime, to dinner or something?" she asked.

Rule Number Four: The Man Always Initiates a Relationship

Spike felt his smirk widened as he answered, "I'd love to."

Buffy smiled a bright smile that seemed to just completely illuminate his whole world. In that moment, he knew he couldn't go another day without seeing that smile, without finding out what her laugh sounded like. He needed her like a man needs water.

She pulled out a pen from her purse and without hesitation grabbed his arm and pushed up his sleeve to jot down her phone number on his arm. The feel of her skin on his made his blood race and his heart thunder in her chest. When she pulled her hand away he felt a profound loss that made him want to jerk her against him and snog her good and proper.

"Call me sometime." She demanded. Spike felt his smirk turn to a honest-to-goodness smile, something that was rare to find with him.

"You can count on it." He promised.