Author's Notes: This is part three of A/S/L. The story is called A/S/L
because when I first started to get into chat rooms on the Internet the
first thing anyone would ask me is A/S/L, which of course stands for
age/sex/location. This part is rated PG-13 for slight cursing.
Note: I got a little bit of criticism on this part that I want to cover (although this might spoil some of the story so feel free to read the story first and then this part). When Willow tells Buffy she met someone on the Internet, it seems logical that Buffy would point out the failed Internet relationship in Season 1. At the time I had not seen the episode, so it doesn't make it to the story. Sorry!
See part one for other Author's Notes.
*~*~*
Willow dropped the brush on her bare foot and cursed aloud. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was a mess. The day had been filled with clumsy little mishaps as her nerves took their toll. She needed to relax. Tonight was the night she'd meet him. She wanted to look her best.
She slipped her clothes off her lithe frame and stepped into the shower. As the water washed away the day's nervousness, she began to think of what she should wear. She didn't want to appear too suggestive, but on the other hand, she didn't want to make it seem there is no chance for something in the future. She smiled a little as she mulled over the problem.
*~*
"Christ!" Spike fumed as he tried to make his TV set work. It wouldn't. Unless he wanted to watch the wild world of fuzz, he was TV-less. "Great. Bloody everlasting hell!"
Spike turned the TV off and started to pace in his small domicile. Still daylight. Stuck. He sighed and for the millionth time today, his thoughts turned to his date tonight.
What would she look like? What would she say? Would she notice his lack of heartbeat? Should he have told her? What does he care? Why is he so damn bothered by this? Why is he scared she'll turn away?
He wisely didn't let his mind linger on that last question too much. He had enough to worry about.
Spike looked down at his clothing. All black today. Fitting. He had his tightest pair of black jeans on, tight tucked in black t-shirt, sleeves rolled up a bit. He took off the black nail polish. That was his compromise. But the duster was coming with him, definitely. He knew he looked good. He only worried about looking too informal.
What were they doing tonight? Where were they going? What would they talk about? Would they even know how to talk without the computers? Would she be pretty? Would she like he way he looked?
There he went again. Chalk that up to a million and one times today.
*~*
"Willow?" Pause. "Willow? Hey Will!" Buffy waved her hand in front of Willow's face.
Willow's eyes snapped wider than usual and she looked at Buffy, horrified to have been caught daydreaming about him. But Buffy couldn't possibly know she was daydreaming about a guy. She smiled to her best friend.
"So who is he?"
Willow nearly choked. "Who is who? There is no who." Willow busied herself with flipping through the book on ancient magic in front of her.
Buffy chuckled. "Right. So? You gonna give me the juicy details or do I have to ask Xander?"
Willow's eyes widened. It was well known that Xander could get most secrets from Willow by singing "Henry the Eighth" or other such annoying songs.
"Anything but that." Willow smiled.
"Ok then. Who is he?"
"A guy I met on the Internet."
"Ooo! Intrigue! So spill!" Buffy leaned in, interestedly.
"Well.he's really sweet. A poet. And he's funny and charming. He seems to like me. And well, we are meeting tonight." Willow smiled dreamily.
"What's he look like?"
Willow faltered and looked at the book. "I don't actually know."
"Well duh. Describe him how he described himself." Buffy smiled and then stopped. "Wait, you don't even have a description?"
Willow shook her head.
"What's his name?"
Willow sunk down in her chair.
"No name?" Buffy's voice was flat with disbelief. "So let me get this straight. You're going to go on a date tonight with a man you met on the Internet that has given you no description and no name?" Buffy's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "Willow? Where is the sensible level-headed friend I know you to be?"
Willow stood up and busied herself by putting the book back. Buffy followed.
"I'm still that girl. It'll be fine, Buffy. You just have to get to know him. He's really sweet."
"Uh-huh. Where are you two meeting, and what time. I'll be there to make sure he doesn't try anything funny."
"NO!" Willow whirled around, wide-eyed and then tried to compose herself. "I mean you don't have to do that. It'll be ok."
Buffy narrowed her eyes in thought. She didn't want anything to happen to Willow, but Willow really didn't seem to want her to go. Besides, Willow was a witch. She could hold her own when necessary.
Buffy sighed. "Alright, but if you come up on the Missing Persons I'll never forgive myself and I'll hunt him down."
Willow smiled. "No worries. It's going to be great."
*~*
Willow stood in front of the all-night diner and waited. She wished she had gotten a description of him, or at least knew what he'd be wearing.
She had a little bit of a problem coordinating her own wardrobe this night. Shirts, pants, and skirts of all colors and lengths were strewn all over her room and whole drawers of clothes were dumped on her bed. Finally she came away with a decent ensemble consisting of black jeans that were tight around the hips but loosened up down around her legs. Her top was a dark green knit shirt that contrasted beautifully with her hair and brought out the green in her eyes. She had carefully taken the time to wear some make- up this night, even though she regularly didn't bother with it. Her eyes were lightly outlined in black and her lips had a bit of rose added to them.
Nervously she waited. She carefully looked at the faces of all the men who entered the diner. She checked to see if they looked like they were looking for someone. Again, she wished she had gotten a description of some kind.
Willow turned toward the diner, checking to make sure there wasn't anyone sitting alone, looking toward the door as if they were waiting for her, and then she turned her attention back out to the street. That's when she saw him. Walking up to her so confidently, so sure of himself.
"Bloody hell, pet, what are you doing here?" Spike asked, exasperated. Couldn't he even go out on a date without one of the Scoobies following him?
"Well, I should ask you the same thing!" Willow frowned at him.
"Well for your information, I'm waiting for someone. So I'll just wait over here, and you do you thing there." Spike walked about ten feet from her and waited. He wished he had thought to get the chit's description. This was going to be harder than he thought.
Willow and Spike waited in an uncomfortable silence, each hoping their date would come soon.
Spike glanced over at Willow and lit a cigarette. She looked good. Real good, actually. He didn't think he'd really ever seen her dressed up before. Spike let his eyes roam up and down her lithe body for a moment. He wondered who she was waiting for, and then his eyes widened. He blinked. She was waiting. He was waiting. She was dressed up. WW as in Willow.. something. Or something Willow. Whatever. He softly cursed to himself. How could he be so stupid?
He put the cigarette out and walked over to Willow. Willow glanced at him when she saw him coming closer and she took a step back, suddenly defensive.
"What?"
Spike silently walked right up to her, toe to toe, and his eyes searched her face, for something. Something to make him come clean with his confession. Willow's eyes searched his. She looked confused. But there was no hate there. No contempt. She had never really treated him with hate, no matter what he had done to her in the past.
His hand came out and cupped her little chin in his hand.
"What does WW stand for?"
Willow's eyes widened in shock. Spike? It was Spike? BB.she searched her mind for what it could mean, and then it came to her. Big Bad. Her mouth twitched in a smile. Of all the people she could meet in the chat room, she met Spike, and found she actually liked him.
Her eyes twinkled a little. "Willow Witch." She blushed a little, the blush only bringing out the beauty of her face even more.
Spike leaned his face down to hers, a surreal feeling enveloping him as his eyes closed and he prepared to kiss her. Willow's eyes closed and when his lips touched hers, she felt electricity course through them, setting body parts on fire. She rose up on her tiptoes a little and opened her mouth to him. His tongue very slowly, very hesitantly slipped past his lips and then finally past hers and one of her arms went around his neck, pulling him closer.
They stood there in front of the diner and made that kiss last. When Spike pulled away, he searched her face for any hint of regret, and was glad to find none. He straightened and held his arm out to her and she took it with a smile.
"Shall we?"
Willow smiled and nodded.
Spike led her to the diner door.
"So you're a poet?"
*~*
The End.
Note: I got a little bit of criticism on this part that I want to cover (although this might spoil some of the story so feel free to read the story first and then this part). When Willow tells Buffy she met someone on the Internet, it seems logical that Buffy would point out the failed Internet relationship in Season 1. At the time I had not seen the episode, so it doesn't make it to the story. Sorry!
See part one for other Author's Notes.
*~*~*
Willow dropped the brush on her bare foot and cursed aloud. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was a mess. The day had been filled with clumsy little mishaps as her nerves took their toll. She needed to relax. Tonight was the night she'd meet him. She wanted to look her best.
She slipped her clothes off her lithe frame and stepped into the shower. As the water washed away the day's nervousness, she began to think of what she should wear. She didn't want to appear too suggestive, but on the other hand, she didn't want to make it seem there is no chance for something in the future. She smiled a little as she mulled over the problem.
*~*
"Christ!" Spike fumed as he tried to make his TV set work. It wouldn't. Unless he wanted to watch the wild world of fuzz, he was TV-less. "Great. Bloody everlasting hell!"
Spike turned the TV off and started to pace in his small domicile. Still daylight. Stuck. He sighed and for the millionth time today, his thoughts turned to his date tonight.
What would she look like? What would she say? Would she notice his lack of heartbeat? Should he have told her? What does he care? Why is he so damn bothered by this? Why is he scared she'll turn away?
He wisely didn't let his mind linger on that last question too much. He had enough to worry about.
Spike looked down at his clothing. All black today. Fitting. He had his tightest pair of black jeans on, tight tucked in black t-shirt, sleeves rolled up a bit. He took off the black nail polish. That was his compromise. But the duster was coming with him, definitely. He knew he looked good. He only worried about looking too informal.
What were they doing tonight? Where were they going? What would they talk about? Would they even know how to talk without the computers? Would she be pretty? Would she like he way he looked?
There he went again. Chalk that up to a million and one times today.
*~*
"Willow?" Pause. "Willow? Hey Will!" Buffy waved her hand in front of Willow's face.
Willow's eyes snapped wider than usual and she looked at Buffy, horrified to have been caught daydreaming about him. But Buffy couldn't possibly know she was daydreaming about a guy. She smiled to her best friend.
"So who is he?"
Willow nearly choked. "Who is who? There is no who." Willow busied herself with flipping through the book on ancient magic in front of her.
Buffy chuckled. "Right. So? You gonna give me the juicy details or do I have to ask Xander?"
Willow's eyes widened. It was well known that Xander could get most secrets from Willow by singing "Henry the Eighth" or other such annoying songs.
"Anything but that." Willow smiled.
"Ok then. Who is he?"
"A guy I met on the Internet."
"Ooo! Intrigue! So spill!" Buffy leaned in, interestedly.
"Well.he's really sweet. A poet. And he's funny and charming. He seems to like me. And well, we are meeting tonight." Willow smiled dreamily.
"What's he look like?"
Willow faltered and looked at the book. "I don't actually know."
"Well duh. Describe him how he described himself." Buffy smiled and then stopped. "Wait, you don't even have a description?"
Willow shook her head.
"What's his name?"
Willow sunk down in her chair.
"No name?" Buffy's voice was flat with disbelief. "So let me get this straight. You're going to go on a date tonight with a man you met on the Internet that has given you no description and no name?" Buffy's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "Willow? Where is the sensible level-headed friend I know you to be?"
Willow stood up and busied herself by putting the book back. Buffy followed.
"I'm still that girl. It'll be fine, Buffy. You just have to get to know him. He's really sweet."
"Uh-huh. Where are you two meeting, and what time. I'll be there to make sure he doesn't try anything funny."
"NO!" Willow whirled around, wide-eyed and then tried to compose herself. "I mean you don't have to do that. It'll be ok."
Buffy narrowed her eyes in thought. She didn't want anything to happen to Willow, but Willow really didn't seem to want her to go. Besides, Willow was a witch. She could hold her own when necessary.
Buffy sighed. "Alright, but if you come up on the Missing Persons I'll never forgive myself and I'll hunt him down."
Willow smiled. "No worries. It's going to be great."
*~*
Willow stood in front of the all-night diner and waited. She wished she had gotten a description of him, or at least knew what he'd be wearing.
She had a little bit of a problem coordinating her own wardrobe this night. Shirts, pants, and skirts of all colors and lengths were strewn all over her room and whole drawers of clothes were dumped on her bed. Finally she came away with a decent ensemble consisting of black jeans that were tight around the hips but loosened up down around her legs. Her top was a dark green knit shirt that contrasted beautifully with her hair and brought out the green in her eyes. She had carefully taken the time to wear some make- up this night, even though she regularly didn't bother with it. Her eyes were lightly outlined in black and her lips had a bit of rose added to them.
Nervously she waited. She carefully looked at the faces of all the men who entered the diner. She checked to see if they looked like they were looking for someone. Again, she wished she had gotten a description of some kind.
Willow turned toward the diner, checking to make sure there wasn't anyone sitting alone, looking toward the door as if they were waiting for her, and then she turned her attention back out to the street. That's when she saw him. Walking up to her so confidently, so sure of himself.
"Bloody hell, pet, what are you doing here?" Spike asked, exasperated. Couldn't he even go out on a date without one of the Scoobies following him?
"Well, I should ask you the same thing!" Willow frowned at him.
"Well for your information, I'm waiting for someone. So I'll just wait over here, and you do you thing there." Spike walked about ten feet from her and waited. He wished he had thought to get the chit's description. This was going to be harder than he thought.
Willow and Spike waited in an uncomfortable silence, each hoping their date would come soon.
Spike glanced over at Willow and lit a cigarette. She looked good. Real good, actually. He didn't think he'd really ever seen her dressed up before. Spike let his eyes roam up and down her lithe body for a moment. He wondered who she was waiting for, and then his eyes widened. He blinked. She was waiting. He was waiting. She was dressed up. WW as in Willow.. something. Or something Willow. Whatever. He softly cursed to himself. How could he be so stupid?
He put the cigarette out and walked over to Willow. Willow glanced at him when she saw him coming closer and she took a step back, suddenly defensive.
"What?"
Spike silently walked right up to her, toe to toe, and his eyes searched her face, for something. Something to make him come clean with his confession. Willow's eyes searched his. She looked confused. But there was no hate there. No contempt. She had never really treated him with hate, no matter what he had done to her in the past.
His hand came out and cupped her little chin in his hand.
"What does WW stand for?"
Willow's eyes widened in shock. Spike? It was Spike? BB.she searched her mind for what it could mean, and then it came to her. Big Bad. Her mouth twitched in a smile. Of all the people she could meet in the chat room, she met Spike, and found she actually liked him.
Her eyes twinkled a little. "Willow Witch." She blushed a little, the blush only bringing out the beauty of her face even more.
Spike leaned his face down to hers, a surreal feeling enveloping him as his eyes closed and he prepared to kiss her. Willow's eyes closed and when his lips touched hers, she felt electricity course through them, setting body parts on fire. She rose up on her tiptoes a little and opened her mouth to him. His tongue very slowly, very hesitantly slipped past his lips and then finally past hers and one of her arms went around his neck, pulling him closer.
They stood there in front of the diner and made that kiss last. When Spike pulled away, he searched her face for any hint of regret, and was glad to find none. He straightened and held his arm out to her and she took it with a smile.
"Shall we?"
Willow smiled and nodded.
Spike led her to the diner door.
"So you're a poet?"
*~*
The End.