TITLE: Games People Play
RATED: PG
DISCLAIMERS: I am in no way affiliated with "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," "Roswell" or their creators, but I am borrowing their characters for my story.
SUMMARY: Isabelle Evans moves to Sunnydale and attends a wedding.
"Your game has improved," Spike observed as Xander neatly banked the nine-ball off the far rail and sent it back up and into the pocket on his left.
"There's a pool table in one of the trailers at the construction site," Xander explained, "We've been shooting during breaks."
"So, word is that you and Anya are tying the knot."
"That's right," Xander answered with an edge of defensiveness.
"You knock her up?" Spike inquired.
"No!" Xander answered angrily.
"She's your soulmate, then?"
"I don't know if I believe in that whole one perfect person for everyone deal. It seems unrealistic to me," Xander said.
"I don't think it's so unreasonable," Spike said. "I believe there's one perfect woman for every man. They may start off on opposite ends of the earth or right around the corner. And if the bloke is extremely lucky, he may even cross barriers of time, distance and age and actually meet her. And if the fates favor him, they may even strike up a conversation. But even if all that does occur, he can still find a way to muck it up."
Xander laughed as Spike remained serious.
"But you do love Anya?" Spike half-asked, half-stated.
"More than I ever thought possible," Xander answered. "This might be hard for you to believe, Spike, but I would do anything to make Anya happy. I even love her faults. Sounds crazy, doesn't it? Almost as crazy as you being an usher in my wedding."
Spike did a double-take and stared at Xander.
"So, you wanna?" Xander asked him.
"Yeah, alright," Spike answered.
--------------------------------------------------------
Isabelle Evans needed to get out of Roswell, New Mexico. Since she had rejected her alien origins and decided to live, as much as possible, as a human, she decided to get away from Max and Michael and everything else there. When she got offered a scholarship from a relatively small school called Sunnydale University, she decided that would be the perfect place for her to start over.
Her freshman year was all about academics. She thought of nothing but her classes, and it had paid off with a 4.0 GPA. She had gone back home for the summer to find that nothing had changed. Max and Liz were still pretending to be pals instead of soulmates, Michael and Maria still quarreled but stayed together, and her mom and dad were happy to have her home, but understood her need for independence. Max hadn't received any messages from their home planet, but not for lack of obsessing about it as usual. Isabelle still missed Alex, but the pain had weakened a bit, which meant she was no longer paralyzed by it.
She was glad to return to Sunnydale for her sophomore year. Feeling more confident since she was no longer a freshman, Isabelle still worked hard at her studies, but she found time to make friends and have a little fun. Her friends hung out at this cool club called "The Bronze," where no one seemed too interested in asking for IDs. She joined them there most Saturdays, not for the alcohol (she knew it could affect her as badly as it had Max), but for the girl-talk and the dancing. And there were the guys. Isabelle had never before been in a place that had so many good-looking guys. She and her friends united their efforts for their common goal of separating the immature idiots from the eligible men. They often referred to the former as being "man-washed," which meant these guys believed Ragu makes a pretty good sauce and that farting in public was hilarious. Whenever they spotted the latter, they kept tabs on them to see if they were already taken or gay.
It was during one such Saturday that Isabelle's friend Lydia said, "Eligibles at 10:00." Isabelle and their friend, Vonnie turned to look. They saw two men playing pool. Both were muscular and about 5'10". One was obviously into the punk look, but it seemed to suit him. He was wearing black jeans with a black T-shirt and he had bleach-blonde hair. He moved like a man who knows what he wants. The other one had dark hair and a quick smile. He was wearing blue jeans and a Hawaiian shirt and he looked very comfortable in his own skin.
"So, what do you think?" Lydia asked.
"Very nice," Vonnie replied, "Definitely not man-washed."
"They don't look like they're 'together,'" Isabelle offered.
"Ohhh, wait a minute," Vonnie said, "Here comes a girlfriend."
Isabelle was pleased to see the attractive strawberry-blonde girl grab hold of the dark-haired man's arm.
"Damn!" Lydia said, "The search continues."
"Not for me," Isabelle said, "Not yet, anyway."
They continued to keep an eye on the two men and the girl. After a while, the dark-haired man and the girl walked over to a table and joined three girls. The blonde man sat at the bar.
"Give it up, Isabelle," Vonnie remarked when she caught her friend stealing glances at the blonde man, "He's a little old for you, anyway."
"I've got an old soul," Isabelle said, "Come on, let's dance."
As the girls danced, Isabelle made sure she could keep an eye on the man at the bar. She saw him glance a few times at the table behind where they were dancing. When she looked, she realized that that was where the other guy, his girlfriend and the three other girls were sitting. She positioned herself so that he would notice her whenever he looked over to their table. She didn't do anything too outrageous; she didn't want to come on too strong. But she let herself get into the music and smiled at him a couple times.
Spike was stealing his usual glance over at Buffy when he noticed three girls dancing in his line of vision. The prettiest one with the long, beautiful hair and seductive eyes smiled at him! He thought he must have imagined it, but then she did it again.
After a couple songs, Lydia and Vonnie sat back down at their table while Isabelle went up to the bar to get their drinks. Spike grabbed his duster and laid a couple bucks down on the bar. Isabelle turned to him.
"Leaving already?" she asked.
"What's it to you?" Spike asked back.
"I saw you playing pool earlier. Wanna get your ass kicked by a girl?"
Now she was speaking his language. "What about your friends?" Spike asked.
So he HAD noticed her! "They can't shoot worth a damn. I need a challenge." He smiled at her and she was afraid her boldness would shrivel up and die, right there.
"Alright, then," he said, and they walked over to the pool tables.
They were well-matched and Isabelle beat Spike the first two games, then he won the third. She saw him look past her to the table where his previous opponent sat. The people at the table rose and appeared to be preparing to leave. Isabelle asked him, "Do you have to leave now?"
"What? Oh, no, no. I'm not with them."
"Good," she said, setting the balls up for another game.
"What's your name?" he asked her suddenly.
"Isabelle."
"I'm Spike, Would you like to dance, Isabelle?"
----------------------------------------------------
Over the next few weeks, Spike and Isabelle dated. Because she was so busy with school, they only saw each other on weekends. A couple times she asked him to do something on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, but he was always "busy" during those times. So they went to the movies and to a couple clubs. Amazingly, they never managed to run into Buffy or her friends. One night they went rollerblading through the park. She thought he was being romantic when he'd suggested going after dark. For him, it was merely survival instinct.
Isabelle was a pro with the skates. Spike was not. At one point, he lost his balance and his left skate knocked into her right, sending them both tumbling. When they landed, Spike found himself positioned nearly on top of Isabelle. Not for the first time, he noticed how pretty she was. He hadn't kissed her yet because he knew that someday he'd have to tell her he's a vampire, and her seeming so naïve, she was likely to run. But as he looked down at her, her long hair fanned out around her face, her full lips slightly parted, her breathing heavy, he couldn't resist. He leaned down and kissed her gently. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his back.
Suddenly, out of the corners of his eyes, he saw them. He wanted to smack himself for not remembering that vampires like to prey on couples making out. He leaped off of Isabelle and lunged forward, forgetting his rollerblades.
"Bloody Hell!" he exclaimed going down hard on his hands and knees. He scrambled to get up, but his feet just kept rolling back.
The two vampires howled with laughter. "Hey, Joey!" one said to the other, "I didn't know they were showing 'Spike On Ice' tonight!"
Spike knew it wasn't there as soon as he reached for it. His stake was in his coat pocket, which Isabelle had talked him out of wearing for fear it would trip him up and get him killed. The irony of that didn't escape him. "Run!" he yelled to Isabelle, who was already on her feet.
Isabelle quickly took in the situation. Spike was obviously in good physical shape, and these two boys looked much weaker than him. But he clearly viewed them as a threat. All at once, the two weak-looking boys' faces changed before her eyes. Their eyes turned yellow, like animals, ridges appeared on their foreheads, and fangs flashed. As Spike finally got to his feet, she knew one small push from either of them would send him flying right back down again. And so she panicked. She held up her right hand, palm facing them, closed her eyes and yelled, "No!" The two vampires flew backward as if they'd gotten hit by a train. They landed with a loud "thump" and were knocked out.
Spike looked at Isabelle in disbelief. "What are you?" he asked.
"Why did those monsters know your name?" she asked him.
They stared at each other for a minute.
"Let's get these bloody skates off and go somewhere where it's safe," Spike finally suggested.
He took Isabelle to his crypt. "Don't worry, I'll explain," Spike said, seeing the shock on her face.
Once inside, Spike began. He told her he's a vampire, and he told her about the chip in his brain and how it led to other changes in his behavior. He left out his unrequited love for the slayer. *No sense getting her mixed up in all this*, he thought. "Now it's your turn."
Isabelle told him she's an alien. She told him about Max and Michael and the pods and Tess.
"We're a right pair, aren't we?" Spike said when she had finished.
She smiled and agreed. Then she said, "It's late. I really need to be getting back."
"Alright," Spike said, "I'll walk you back to your dorm."
The following weekend, when Spike called Isabelle, she said, "We have to talk."
He watched daytime TV. He knew what those words meant.
They met at a coffee shop. Isabelle told him that she knew it was terribly hypocritical of her, but she really wanted a regular, human guy. She was mostly human, after all, and she dreamed of marriage and children and of growing old with someone. She said she felt terrible because she really liked him, but she saw no future for them.
Spike was disappointed, but he understood completely. "Can I ask a small favor of you?" he said.
"Sure. What is it?"
"I'm in this wedding in a few weeks, and I need a date . . .."
RATED: PG
DISCLAIMERS: I am in no way affiliated with "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," "Roswell" or their creators, but I am borrowing their characters for my story.
SUMMARY: Isabelle Evans moves to Sunnydale and attends a wedding.
"Your game has improved," Spike observed as Xander neatly banked the nine-ball off the far rail and sent it back up and into the pocket on his left.
"There's a pool table in one of the trailers at the construction site," Xander explained, "We've been shooting during breaks."
"So, word is that you and Anya are tying the knot."
"That's right," Xander answered with an edge of defensiveness.
"You knock her up?" Spike inquired.
"No!" Xander answered angrily.
"She's your soulmate, then?"
"I don't know if I believe in that whole one perfect person for everyone deal. It seems unrealistic to me," Xander said.
"I don't think it's so unreasonable," Spike said. "I believe there's one perfect woman for every man. They may start off on opposite ends of the earth or right around the corner. And if the bloke is extremely lucky, he may even cross barriers of time, distance and age and actually meet her. And if the fates favor him, they may even strike up a conversation. But even if all that does occur, he can still find a way to muck it up."
Xander laughed as Spike remained serious.
"But you do love Anya?" Spike half-asked, half-stated.
"More than I ever thought possible," Xander answered. "This might be hard for you to believe, Spike, but I would do anything to make Anya happy. I even love her faults. Sounds crazy, doesn't it? Almost as crazy as you being an usher in my wedding."
Spike did a double-take and stared at Xander.
"So, you wanna?" Xander asked him.
"Yeah, alright," Spike answered.
--------------------------------------------------------
Isabelle Evans needed to get out of Roswell, New Mexico. Since she had rejected her alien origins and decided to live, as much as possible, as a human, she decided to get away from Max and Michael and everything else there. When she got offered a scholarship from a relatively small school called Sunnydale University, she decided that would be the perfect place for her to start over.
Her freshman year was all about academics. She thought of nothing but her classes, and it had paid off with a 4.0 GPA. She had gone back home for the summer to find that nothing had changed. Max and Liz were still pretending to be pals instead of soulmates, Michael and Maria still quarreled but stayed together, and her mom and dad were happy to have her home, but understood her need for independence. Max hadn't received any messages from their home planet, but not for lack of obsessing about it as usual. Isabelle still missed Alex, but the pain had weakened a bit, which meant she was no longer paralyzed by it.
She was glad to return to Sunnydale for her sophomore year. Feeling more confident since she was no longer a freshman, Isabelle still worked hard at her studies, but she found time to make friends and have a little fun. Her friends hung out at this cool club called "The Bronze," where no one seemed too interested in asking for IDs. She joined them there most Saturdays, not for the alcohol (she knew it could affect her as badly as it had Max), but for the girl-talk and the dancing. And there were the guys. Isabelle had never before been in a place that had so many good-looking guys. She and her friends united their efforts for their common goal of separating the immature idiots from the eligible men. They often referred to the former as being "man-washed," which meant these guys believed Ragu makes a pretty good sauce and that farting in public was hilarious. Whenever they spotted the latter, they kept tabs on them to see if they were already taken or gay.
It was during one such Saturday that Isabelle's friend Lydia said, "Eligibles at 10:00." Isabelle and their friend, Vonnie turned to look. They saw two men playing pool. Both were muscular and about 5'10". One was obviously into the punk look, but it seemed to suit him. He was wearing black jeans with a black T-shirt and he had bleach-blonde hair. He moved like a man who knows what he wants. The other one had dark hair and a quick smile. He was wearing blue jeans and a Hawaiian shirt and he looked very comfortable in his own skin.
"So, what do you think?" Lydia asked.
"Very nice," Vonnie replied, "Definitely not man-washed."
"They don't look like they're 'together,'" Isabelle offered.
"Ohhh, wait a minute," Vonnie said, "Here comes a girlfriend."
Isabelle was pleased to see the attractive strawberry-blonde girl grab hold of the dark-haired man's arm.
"Damn!" Lydia said, "The search continues."
"Not for me," Isabelle said, "Not yet, anyway."
They continued to keep an eye on the two men and the girl. After a while, the dark-haired man and the girl walked over to a table and joined three girls. The blonde man sat at the bar.
"Give it up, Isabelle," Vonnie remarked when she caught her friend stealing glances at the blonde man, "He's a little old for you, anyway."
"I've got an old soul," Isabelle said, "Come on, let's dance."
As the girls danced, Isabelle made sure she could keep an eye on the man at the bar. She saw him glance a few times at the table behind where they were dancing. When she looked, she realized that that was where the other guy, his girlfriend and the three other girls were sitting. She positioned herself so that he would notice her whenever he looked over to their table. She didn't do anything too outrageous; she didn't want to come on too strong. But she let herself get into the music and smiled at him a couple times.
Spike was stealing his usual glance over at Buffy when he noticed three girls dancing in his line of vision. The prettiest one with the long, beautiful hair and seductive eyes smiled at him! He thought he must have imagined it, but then she did it again.
After a couple songs, Lydia and Vonnie sat back down at their table while Isabelle went up to the bar to get their drinks. Spike grabbed his duster and laid a couple bucks down on the bar. Isabelle turned to him.
"Leaving already?" she asked.
"What's it to you?" Spike asked back.
"I saw you playing pool earlier. Wanna get your ass kicked by a girl?"
Now she was speaking his language. "What about your friends?" Spike asked.
So he HAD noticed her! "They can't shoot worth a damn. I need a challenge." He smiled at her and she was afraid her boldness would shrivel up and die, right there.
"Alright, then," he said, and they walked over to the pool tables.
They were well-matched and Isabelle beat Spike the first two games, then he won the third. She saw him look past her to the table where his previous opponent sat. The people at the table rose and appeared to be preparing to leave. Isabelle asked him, "Do you have to leave now?"
"What? Oh, no, no. I'm not with them."
"Good," she said, setting the balls up for another game.
"What's your name?" he asked her suddenly.
"Isabelle."
"I'm Spike, Would you like to dance, Isabelle?"
----------------------------------------------------
Over the next few weeks, Spike and Isabelle dated. Because she was so busy with school, they only saw each other on weekends. A couple times she asked him to do something on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, but he was always "busy" during those times. So they went to the movies and to a couple clubs. Amazingly, they never managed to run into Buffy or her friends. One night they went rollerblading through the park. She thought he was being romantic when he'd suggested going after dark. For him, it was merely survival instinct.
Isabelle was a pro with the skates. Spike was not. At one point, he lost his balance and his left skate knocked into her right, sending them both tumbling. When they landed, Spike found himself positioned nearly on top of Isabelle. Not for the first time, he noticed how pretty she was. He hadn't kissed her yet because he knew that someday he'd have to tell her he's a vampire, and her seeming so naïve, she was likely to run. But as he looked down at her, her long hair fanned out around her face, her full lips slightly parted, her breathing heavy, he couldn't resist. He leaned down and kissed her gently. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his back.
Suddenly, out of the corners of his eyes, he saw them. He wanted to smack himself for not remembering that vampires like to prey on couples making out. He leaped off of Isabelle and lunged forward, forgetting his rollerblades.
"Bloody Hell!" he exclaimed going down hard on his hands and knees. He scrambled to get up, but his feet just kept rolling back.
The two vampires howled with laughter. "Hey, Joey!" one said to the other, "I didn't know they were showing 'Spike On Ice' tonight!"
Spike knew it wasn't there as soon as he reached for it. His stake was in his coat pocket, which Isabelle had talked him out of wearing for fear it would trip him up and get him killed. The irony of that didn't escape him. "Run!" he yelled to Isabelle, who was already on her feet.
Isabelle quickly took in the situation. Spike was obviously in good physical shape, and these two boys looked much weaker than him. But he clearly viewed them as a threat. All at once, the two weak-looking boys' faces changed before her eyes. Their eyes turned yellow, like animals, ridges appeared on their foreheads, and fangs flashed. As Spike finally got to his feet, she knew one small push from either of them would send him flying right back down again. And so she panicked. She held up her right hand, palm facing them, closed her eyes and yelled, "No!" The two vampires flew backward as if they'd gotten hit by a train. They landed with a loud "thump" and were knocked out.
Spike looked at Isabelle in disbelief. "What are you?" he asked.
"Why did those monsters know your name?" she asked him.
They stared at each other for a minute.
"Let's get these bloody skates off and go somewhere where it's safe," Spike finally suggested.
He took Isabelle to his crypt. "Don't worry, I'll explain," Spike said, seeing the shock on her face.
Once inside, Spike began. He told her he's a vampire, and he told her about the chip in his brain and how it led to other changes in his behavior. He left out his unrequited love for the slayer. *No sense getting her mixed up in all this*, he thought. "Now it's your turn."
Isabelle told him she's an alien. She told him about Max and Michael and the pods and Tess.
"We're a right pair, aren't we?" Spike said when she had finished.
She smiled and agreed. Then she said, "It's late. I really need to be getting back."
"Alright," Spike said, "I'll walk you back to your dorm."
The following weekend, when Spike called Isabelle, she said, "We have to talk."
He watched daytime TV. He knew what those words meant.
They met at a coffee shop. Isabelle told him that she knew it was terribly hypocritical of her, but she really wanted a regular, human guy. She was mostly human, after all, and she dreamed of marriage and children and of growing old with someone. She said she felt terrible because she really liked him, but she saw no future for them.
Spike was disappointed, but he understood completely. "Can I ask a small favor of you?" he said.
"Sure. What is it?"
"I'm in this wedding in a few weeks, and I need a date . . .."