Start, part 19.
Sorry it's been so long. Zero inspiration. But here we go. I hope you like it, and MINE! is on it's way. Har har. Y'all are just gonna love it. PLEASE review!! I love it when you do!! *blows kisses*
Always.
Tequila Sunrise
Spike took in the small shop Giles had led him into with one glance. Turned a narrowed stare at the ex-watcher. "I didn't know you still hated me, Rupe. Kinda stings."
"Oh... Shut *up*, you git!" Grabbing Spike by the arm, he led him to the counter.
"Can I help you?" The red-haired lady at the counter addressed them. Her nametag announced that, yes, her name *was* Sheila, the proud owner of the "Yesteryear Costume Parlor."
"Um... Yes..." Giles said, cleaning his glasses. "I need- my.. eh... well, friend. He needs a suit, mid-1860's, gentleman's formal wear. 1860's, if you've got it."
Sheila smiled knowingly, leaned over the counter seductively. "A masque? Aren't those always so..." She drew a finger down her neck. "Ellilcit?"
Spike gave a small smile. "I suppose they are. But, you see, Sheila," he squinted at her nametag, "This is for my wedding."
She backed off immediately, a small pout forming between her eyebrows. "I'll see what we have... Just a moment."
As she walked away, Spike turned a ferocious glare on Giles. "Why on God's earth would you take me to one of these places?? You know as well as I that they never carry any thing of... quality, or... I DO bathe, Watcher. Me AND my clothes bathe."
Sheila interrupted with a small throat clearing.
Draped across her arm was the perfect suit. Perfectly tailored, suiting the period, it had a beautiful swallow-tail evening coat. The suit jacket had the same tail, and came up the the center of the chest with four buttons. The collar was stiff and starched, but not too high, as had taken the trend in the early 1900's; the shirt's color was a slight cream color. The suit was a beautiful charcoal black, soft. His vampiric senses took a tiny wiff and detected nothing but dry-cleaning scent.
Without a word, he took it from her hands and made his way to a dressing room. Sheila followed him in a slight panic.
"Sir! That's... You may need help with some of the-"
Giles stopped her with a hand on her arm. "He's from- well, he's been to a lot of masques... He knows what he's doing."
"Kid gloves." The muffled order came from the dressing room.
"What? Spike, you bloody pervert. There are NO gloves made of children! The very NOTION is appalling, and furthermore-"
"Shut UP! Soft leather. It was... I can't touch her dress. It's the way things went. I need soft cream gloves to match the shirt. Get on it."
He walked out, the suit draped over his left arm. "I'll buy it."
Slightly confused, Sheila said, "Ummm... This is a rental shop."
Measuring her with his eyes, he said quietly, "Five hundred dollars."
A grin encased her face. "Best wishes on your wedding."
He dropped the bills on the counter, waited her for her bag it, and walked out,Giles trailing him.
That night, Spike knocked on Xander's door.
He opened it, arched a brow, and swung the door open. "Come in."
"You're Buffy's best friend," he told the Whelp, coming straight to the point.
"Yeah... One of 'em." Xander was highly confused, and kept a careful eye on him.
"You piss me off. Every damn time you'd turn around. There you'd go. Pissin me off." He looked intensely at him. "First, it was cuz you were stupid. You still are. But then... It was because you had something I couldn't. Her friendship. Then, I had her body." He swallowed hard, sat down. "You still had something I wanted, Xander."
"A beating heart?"
"Her respect. I think... I think this is a good beginning. I think that we're happy. And it would mean a lot to m- to Buffy. To Buffy if you approved. Wanted to stand in as, ya know. Best man."
Xander grinned. "Bachelor party?"
Spike laughed. "God no! I kinda like this beating heart bit... It'd kinda sucks if Buffy killed me."
Xander rubbed his hands together, said slowly, "Best man, uh?"
Spike scowled at him. "Don't let it go to your head. You're still a dumbassed whelp."
Xander let a smiled quirk his lips. "And I still hate you."
Spike stood. "Goodnight, Whelp."
"Night, Grateful Dead."
End, part 19.
Ok... I'm going on VACATION! I will not be writing, posting, or otherwise BREATHING near a computer until the 8th of June. I will, however, appreciate your reviews till I get back. Remember. The 13th is my birthday. A nice note would be so sweet.
OH! Me, Tigerwolf, and MissKittieFantastico are doing an RPG. Tigerwolf will be posting the first part soon. LOOK FOR IT! :) Thanks so much.
Always.
Tequila Sunrise
Sorry it's been so long. Zero inspiration. But here we go. I hope you like it, and MINE! is on it's way. Har har. Y'all are just gonna love it. PLEASE review!! I love it when you do!! *blows kisses*
Always.
Tequila Sunrise
Spike took in the small shop Giles had led him into with one glance. Turned a narrowed stare at the ex-watcher. "I didn't know you still hated me, Rupe. Kinda stings."
"Oh... Shut *up*, you git!" Grabbing Spike by the arm, he led him to the counter.
"Can I help you?" The red-haired lady at the counter addressed them. Her nametag announced that, yes, her name *was* Sheila, the proud owner of the "Yesteryear Costume Parlor."
"Um... Yes..." Giles said, cleaning his glasses. "I need- my.. eh... well, friend. He needs a suit, mid-1860's, gentleman's formal wear. 1860's, if you've got it."
Sheila smiled knowingly, leaned over the counter seductively. "A masque? Aren't those always so..." She drew a finger down her neck. "Ellilcit?"
Spike gave a small smile. "I suppose they are. But, you see, Sheila," he squinted at her nametag, "This is for my wedding."
She backed off immediately, a small pout forming between her eyebrows. "I'll see what we have... Just a moment."
As she walked away, Spike turned a ferocious glare on Giles. "Why on God's earth would you take me to one of these places?? You know as well as I that they never carry any thing of... quality, or... I DO bathe, Watcher. Me AND my clothes bathe."
Sheila interrupted with a small throat clearing.
Draped across her arm was the perfect suit. Perfectly tailored, suiting the period, it had a beautiful swallow-tail evening coat. The suit jacket had the same tail, and came up the the center of the chest with four buttons. The collar was stiff and starched, but not too high, as had taken the trend in the early 1900's; the shirt's color was a slight cream color. The suit was a beautiful charcoal black, soft. His vampiric senses took a tiny wiff and detected nothing but dry-cleaning scent.
Without a word, he took it from her hands and made his way to a dressing room. Sheila followed him in a slight panic.
"Sir! That's... You may need help with some of the-"
Giles stopped her with a hand on her arm. "He's from- well, he's been to a lot of masques... He knows what he's doing."
"Kid gloves." The muffled order came from the dressing room.
"What? Spike, you bloody pervert. There are NO gloves made of children! The very NOTION is appalling, and furthermore-"
"Shut UP! Soft leather. It was... I can't touch her dress. It's the way things went. I need soft cream gloves to match the shirt. Get on it."
He walked out, the suit draped over his left arm. "I'll buy it."
Slightly confused, Sheila said, "Ummm... This is a rental shop."
Measuring her with his eyes, he said quietly, "Five hundred dollars."
A grin encased her face. "Best wishes on your wedding."
He dropped the bills on the counter, waited her for her bag it, and walked out,Giles trailing him.
That night, Spike knocked on Xander's door.
He opened it, arched a brow, and swung the door open. "Come in."
"You're Buffy's best friend," he told the Whelp, coming straight to the point.
"Yeah... One of 'em." Xander was highly confused, and kept a careful eye on him.
"You piss me off. Every damn time you'd turn around. There you'd go. Pissin me off." He looked intensely at him. "First, it was cuz you were stupid. You still are. But then... It was because you had something I couldn't. Her friendship. Then, I had her body." He swallowed hard, sat down. "You still had something I wanted, Xander."
"A beating heart?"
"Her respect. I think... I think this is a good beginning. I think that we're happy. And it would mean a lot to m- to Buffy. To Buffy if you approved. Wanted to stand in as, ya know. Best man."
Xander grinned. "Bachelor party?"
Spike laughed. "God no! I kinda like this beating heart bit... It'd kinda sucks if Buffy killed me."
Xander rubbed his hands together, said slowly, "Best man, uh?"
Spike scowled at him. "Don't let it go to your head. You're still a dumbassed whelp."
Xander let a smiled quirk his lips. "And I still hate you."
Spike stood. "Goodnight, Whelp."
"Night, Grateful Dead."
End, part 19.
Ok... I'm going on VACATION! I will not be writing, posting, or otherwise BREATHING near a computer until the 8th of June. I will, however, appreciate your reviews till I get back. Remember. The 13th is my birthday. A nice note would be so sweet.
OH! Me, Tigerwolf, and MissKittieFantastico are doing an RPG. Tigerwolf will be posting the first part soon. LOOK FOR IT! :) Thanks so much.
Always.
Tequila Sunrise