Chapter 5

Back at my vastly different home that now seems dark and cluttered, Willow steps back and surveys me with her arms planted firmly on her hips.  "Uh huh.  I think that'll do it." 

"A new set of clothes will win over Buffy?"  I frown, examining my reflection.  Clad in a dark blue suit, off-white casual shirt and deep blue tie, I feel distinctly uncomfortable.  I'm not used to such attire. 

"Well, you do look quite dashing, if I may say so," my good fairy, a.k.a. genie, says thoughtfully. 

I've always thought of myself as fairly decent looking, not exactly handsome but not ugly either.  I've never looked in the mirror and thought "dashing."  "I don't think people use 'dashing' anymore, pet."

"Okay, scratch 'dashing' from the vocabulary.  How's handsome?" 

"Look, Willow, I don't feel like myself in this outfit."  I glance longingly at my black jeans, T-shirt, and leather jacket.  "Why can't I dress as myself?"

Willow ignores me and narrows her eyes.  "Something isn't quite right."

"Bloody well right, it isn't!"  I'm rapidly losing patience. 

"I think it's the hair."  She reaches up to touch my carefully arranged, bleached curls.

My eyes widen in alarm.  "You are *not* touching my hair!  I like my hair just the way it is!"

Too late.

What I now know is "magic smoke" drifts through the air from Willow's fingertip and encircles my head.  "Damn it, witch!"

The smoke clears.  Gone is the bleach that I so consistently keep up.  My hair is coiffed into a nice blondish-brown style that I've seen on commercials.  I'm now a businessman, ready for the first day of my new job as head of a corporate company.  All I need now is a briefcase.  I scowl at myself.

"Don't frown.  Your face might freeze that way," Willow teases, overlooking my "witch" comment.  "We have to change your name, too.  I think Spike is a little over the top.  What did you tell me your real name is?"

"Aladdin."

"Well, you'll officially go by Aladdin. . . . What's your last name?"

I use the name of my adopted caretaker, "Giles."

"Aladdin Giles."  Willow beams at me.

"I have a small problem with what you've done to me," I state when I'm sure I have the genie's full attention

"And what's that?"

"How am I supposed to win Buffy if I can't even be myself?"  The question seems to have an obvious answer, but I don't suppose Willow will give me the one I expect.

I'm right.  "You're not going to win Buffy over with just your looks, silly."

"*Exactly* my point!  So, turn me back.  Fix me."  I sound like I'm whining.  I'm not normally a whiner.  The outfit and the hair are turning me into a poofter.  Boy, I'm glad Xander's not home yet to see me wearing this get up. 

Willow bats her eyes at me.  "No, you look great.  You're just going to use your looks to get Buffy to notice you.  Why, you look better than any of those guys who were standing in line at the office!  After she notices you, then you'll turn on the charm, be yourself. . . show her who you are."

"Like a butterfly to a candle?"  I'm starting to understand the relevance of what the genie's doing.

"Yes."  She nods.

Something suddenly dawns on me.  "I don't understand.  You magically did whatever you did to give me this outfit.  Where do the wishes come in?" 

"Ahhh.  Good question."  Willow lifts a finger as if I've hit upon the idea of the century.  "Now that you have the proper look, you must wish to be wealthy."

"Wealthy?  I have no use for riches," I scoff. 

Willow is insistent, "Don't you understand that you will have to be wealthy to even have a chance with Jasmine?"

"Buffy.  Her name is Buffy," I correct, recalling Buffy's expression when her father called her Jasmine.

"To have a chance with *Buffy*, you'll have to have a full pocketbook." 

"I don't even own a wallet.  I've never had a bank account, and I have never kept more than twenty dollars in my pocket at one time," I maintain proudly.  "I don't need money to win Buffy."

Willow changes tactics, "You may not need money to win Buffy, but you will need money to win over her father."

I sigh.  Why does this witch, genie, whoever she is, always have to be right?  "Okay.  How should I word the wish?"

"Word it anyway you like.  I'll carry it out how I like."

"Now that's fair," I complain, rolling my eyes.  I give up.  "All right.  I wish to be wealthy."

"Good job.  Now don't move while I concentrate."  Little lines form between Willow's eyebrows as she dons a determined expression. 

Smoke erupts out of her fingertip, and my world is transformed in ways I have only dreamed about.

* * *

Chapter 6

"What the hell happened to the house?" Xander bellows as he charges up the now exquisitely fashioned stairs. 

Having been expecting my roommate, I brace myself for his reaction to the total transformation of the abandoned building where we've been living for the last three years.  I'm still a bit shocked by my surroundings myself.  Willow has agreed to allow me to tell Xander about her to help explain the mansion that's been literally thrown up around me. 

Xander is out of breath as he reaches the sitting room where I'm lounging in the same stupid business suit Willow is forcing me to wear.  His eyes are big as saucers, and his face is pale as if he's seen a ghost.  He probably thinks he's in some sort of alternative dimension, especially if he's seen the foyer and the kitchen complete with maids and a cook.

"*What*, I repeat, is going on here?" he demands at the top of his lungs. 

The pat story I had down suddenly drifts out one ear, and I try to do an impromptu explanation, "Um, well, it's kind of a long story.  I went to Charlie's to get a gift for a girl, and he gave me this lamp. . ."

"I almost didn't think I was at the right place!  The only clue I had was the fact that Mr. Andrews is still living by the garbage can under a cardboard box outside!"  Xander pauses in his rant as my appearance sinks in.  "And why the hell are you wearing such a pansy-looking outfit?  And what'd you do to your hair?" 

"I. . . um, you like the new look?"

"No," Xander says bluntly.

"Good.  Well, I hate it, too."  I glare at Willow in the shadows.

She decides to make her fortuitous entrance at that moment.  "Hello!  You must be Xander!  Aladdin has told me so much about you!"

Xander gives Willow the once over.  "Is this the chick that you went to see Charlie about?  Cause she isn't. . ."

"Umm, no," I hurriedly cover because I know Xander's about to say that Willow isn't my type, and I don't want to anger the genie in any way.  "Willow's a friend.  She actually did all this." 

"Oh."  Xander raises his eyebrows with renewed interest.  I know he's wondering if she's single and available. 

"She's a genie."  I don't know quite what else to say to make him understand. 

"A *what*?"

Willow grins at him and raises her arms to show off her golden restraints.  "Yep.  A genie.  Licensed and everything!  That's how you got this house.  Aladdin wished for it!" 

Xander chooses to ignore the wish part and focuses on the irrelevant, "Aladdin?  He doesn't go by that name!  He goes by. . . ."  The phone begins to ring shrilly.  Xander's attention zooms to the source of the sound.  "When did we get a phone?"

"Since Aladdin wished to be wealthy!" Willow continues, undaunted. 

A lanky man dressed in grey, my butler, comes from the direction of the library and picks up the phone.  "Hello!  You've reached the Giles Manor.  How may I help you?. . . One moment, please."  My butler presents me the cordless phone, carefully covering the receiver with his hand.  "Mr. Giles, there's a Mr. Summers on the phone.  He said it's urgent.  Would you like to speak with him?"

Willow gives me a thumbs-up sign.  Xander raises both eyebrows.  I shrug and take the phone from the butler.  Here goes nothing!

* * *

Chapter 7

Apparently, Mr. Summers makes his daughter's dates for her. . . at least of late.  Since I wished to be wealthy, I've also become well known within the city for being an eligible young bachelor.  Mr. Summers didn't waste time ferreting me out of the plethora of men after his daughter. 

So, here I am in the living room, waiting for my first date with Buffy.  The clock on the mantle above my new marble fireplace reads five minutes past seven.  She's late.  My stomach is doing flip-flops.  I can't recall when I've felt this nervous.  I quit smoking a couple of years ago, but I must admit that I snuck in a few while I got ready.  I hope she doesn't notice. 

Willow approaches me, wearing a long, white gown.  She takes my hands in hers.  "You're shaking.  Don't be nervous.  It's going to be okay.  Just go out with her like it's a normal date.  Be yourself.  She'll be won over by your charm."

I shake my head.  "You don't understand.  I've never been on a real date before. . . not a proper one."

Willow isn't even fazed by my lack of experience.  "Don't worry.  You'll be just fine.  And I'll be here if you need me. . . just a phone call away.  You got the cell phone?"

"Yeah.  And the little paper with the phone number on it."  I don't even know my own phone number at the mansion.  How competent am I going to look?  "What are you going to do?"

"Don't worry about me.  I have Xander and a house full of servants to keep me company.  Just have a good time."

I nod my head.  "Okay."  The doorbell rings, and I about jump out of my skin.  "She's here!"

The butler answers the door before I have a chance to gather my jacket.  Disappointment rips through my gut when I notice that Buffy hasn't come to the door, but her limousine driver has.  I thank my butler and follow the driver to the long, white stretch limo that rests in the driveway.

Heart hammering like an out of control racehorse, I slip inside the dimly lit cavern of the vehicle.  My breath catches when Buffy fills my vision.  She looks like a goddess dressed in a black leather skirt and beautiful white peasant top that shows off her delicate collarbones and neck.  Her blonde hair is swept up in a chignon of curls that make me just want to pull her close to me and bury my hands in her hair. 

The scene would be perfect except for the frown she wears on her face and the fact that she's avoiding my gaze.  Self-conscious about my own "corporate" wardrobe, I curse Willow for not letting me dress how I wanted. 

As the limo begins to drive away, I try to catch her eye and introduce myself, "Hi, I'm Aladdin. . . Aladdin Giles."

She doesn't reply.

I try again, "I hope we can have a nice time tonight."  There, that wasn't so bad. 

What comes out of her mouth shocks me, "What kind of name is 'Aladdin'?  How lame is that?"  Her green eyes blaze through my skull as she turns to me for the first time.

My temper rises before I have a chance to hold it back.  "What about *Jasmine*?  Isn't that a shrub?"

"My name is *Buffy*!" she snaps. 

Boy, what a bitchy little shrew.  No wonder she hasn't married.  "Like that's much better than Jasmine.  Whoever heard of the name Buffy anyway?"

"Actually, *Aladdin*," she retorts with an emphasis on my name that makes me cringe, "I believe there's actually a singer or something with that name.  Anyway, it's short for Elizabeth."

"Well, I prefer Spike," I practically shout.  "*Not* Aladdin!"

"Spike?  That's even lamer than Aladdin.  How'd you get that nickname?"

Wouldn't you like to know, sister!  "So, where are we going for dinner?"

She crosses her arms.  "You know I'm only going on this date with you because my father's making me."

My anger dictates one response, but the memory of her father's selfishness gives me pause.  I offer her a regretful smile, and my words are soft,  "Yeah, I know."

The contempt in Buffy's eyes melts away, and for a second, I glimpse her vulnerability.  Silence reigns for the rest of the ride.  A few minutes later, she lets me take her arm to assist her when she climbs out of the limo.  She gives me a small smile as we enter the restaurant.

Maybe this evening won't be a waste after all.

TBC. . . What happens on their first date?  Will Buffy return to her bitchy self?  Stay tuned. . . . 

Next chapter will be chapter 10 of "Binding to Earth!" 

Also, I've written my first NC-17 ficlet. . . nothing brilliant. . . but it's at my site: Eternal Devotion: http://www.secretloft.com/ed/ if you wanna take a peek!

Thanks for the great reviews!!! :o) They help me keep writing!

Take care,

Sandy :o)