~
Buffy typed aimlessly on her iBook, story ideas pouring out from her fingers. She sighed when she read down the list. None of them were appropriate for S&M.
"My, my." A British voice said behind her, "That's, er, quite a list. I'm afraid we may not be able to use many of them." Buffy spun around and came face to face with an older man with a round face, still handsome, with wire- rim glasses resting upon the bridge of his nose. He smiled at her and ducked his head,
"Please excuse me for just interrupting you in this manner. Rupert Giles. I own the magazine." Buffy smiled back and held her hand out.
"Buffy Summers. I'm new here."
"I assumed as much. I read your, uh, your column...quite impressive. I believe I nearly, well, I nearly cried from laughter." Buffy raised her eyebrows...not so much at his comments, but at the man himself.
"So...you're like the Head Honcho guy around here." Buffy stated to which Giles nodded.
"Yes. This magazine began in my family and it has finally been returned to its original roots. It started with my uncle, er, Christopher Sanders, and his partner, Maurice Martisan. Back then it was a, uh, an underground political magazine. When Uncle Sanders, um, as he was known, when he, uh, died, the, the Martisan family took it over. Eventually Sanders & Martisan shaped into the empire that it is today." Buffy stretched her fingers out and looked back up at the man in front of her.
"Would your uncle like S&M now, do you think?" Giles widened his eyes in shock.
"Well, well. You really are , uh, a, a, a, a journalist, aren't you? In, um, in all perfect honesty, my guess would be no. He was always a, uh, an um, an upstanding gentlemen, n-not the type to read a magazine entitled S&M." Buffy detected the note of disgust as he stated the more, um, modern name for the publication. She gave him a half-smile, but kept her bewilderedness to herself. The stuttering, helplessly adorable man in front of her was the one responsible for the magazine which she had been so adamantly against. Buffy and Giles exchanged a few more words until he had to get back to work. They said their goodbyes and Buffy sat back down in her chair, a strange feeling taking her over. She had *liked* Mr. Giles. She honestly liked him. .
Buffy stood up from her desk and walked across the room to her boss's office. She knocked on the swirly-glassed door.
"It's open!" A North London accent beckoned. Buffy stepped in and opened her mouth, but Spike thrust two pictures in front of her face.
"Which one?"
They were two cars.
"Excuse me?" She asked, looking down.
"Which one do you like best?" Buffy cocked an incredulous eyebrow, but scanned over the picture. One was a Boxter, the other a 9-11.
"Um, the Boxter?" Spike rolled his eyes.
"Figures you'd pick the chick one."
"You asked me which one I'd like better and me being a chi- a *woman* that's the one I'd pick. And just so you know, not many people would call a Porsche Boxter a "chick car."" Spike sighed.
"This is so frustrating!" He flopped back into his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Buffy contained a laugh.
"Could you take a moment out of dealing with your Oh-So-Serious issues for one minute to answer some of my questions?" Spike perked his head up.
"Sure, luv. What's on your mind?" Buffy folded her arms, a little taken aback by just being handed the floor.
"Um, it's about Mr. Giles. What's his story?" "You mean why is a scone- eating, literature reading bloke like him doing with a magazine like this?" Buffy avoided his gaze, "It's perfectly understandable. A lot of people wonder the same thing. I've had a few investors comment that I'd make a much better top editor than him." Spike's smirk molded into a smile, "But they're wrong. Wanna know why, kitten?" Buffy shrugged, feigning indifference, when curiosity was truly bubbling up inside her at his words.
"Because he's the Ripper."
This didn't have quite the effect Spike was hoping for.
"Huh?" Spike rolled his eyes again.
"The Ripper, woman! Haven't you ever of Jack the Ripper? Giles is the Ripper!" Buffy wrinkled her nose.
"He kills prostitutes?"
"Well, no one actually takes the allusion seriously, pet. It just means that's he's got balls of steel, he doesn't take anyone's shit. Me, on the other hand, I'm a bloody doormat when a gorgeous women strolls in. Melt like bleedin' putty."
"Oh." Buffy stated simply.
The pair stood in awkward silence for a few moments until Spike cleared his throat.
"So, you think I should go with the 9-11, then?"
~
"Ooh! Turn to page 54 and check out the top right picture! It's perfect!" Buffy exclaimed into the phone she held between the crook of her neck. She smiled as she heard Willow sigh on the other end.
"Buffy." Willow spoke very slowly, "It's yellow. Brides do not wear yellow." Buffy rolled her eyes.
"Doi. What sort of idiot do you take me for? I was talking about the bridesmaid dresses. It would look sooo good on me."
Pause.
"Will?"
"It's too pretty." Willow admitted sheepishly. Buffy bolted upright.
"Please tell me you're joking."
Another pause.
"Willow!"
"I'm sorry!" The redhead screeched, "It's true though!"
"Don't you dare go all Lucifer's Bride on me now." Buffy swore she could hear Willow's eyebrows being drawn in.
"Lucifer's Bride? Never heard of that one before..."
"Well," Buffy reasoned, "I'm sure if the devil * did * have a bride, she wouldn't be a very happy camper." Suddenly, Willow gasped.
"Oh...Oh! Buffy! Turn the page! It's the perfect bridesmaid dress!!" Buffy turned to page 56 and lifted a corner of her lip.
"The blue one? Kinda..." Buffy began, but soon found that there were no words.
"It's soo great for a winter wedding!"
"A winter wedding in California." Buffy reminded her.
"A winter wedding none the less. I'm definitely gonna order it." Buffy sighed inwardly, examining the picture. The dress was navy blue with long sleeves...it was pretty, but it just...it seemed to come straight out of a Renaissance fair.
"Yay." Buffy replied half-heartedly. Quickly realizing that she might hurt her friend's feelings, Buffy changed the subject.
"How weird is this? Looking through bridal catalogues on the phone together for you and Oz's wedding. I mean, I remember when you were hesitant to go out with him because he was shorter than you." Buffy laughed.
"I know! The time has flown by so quickly. Flip." Buffy turned the page, "It's just...god, I can't believe I'm getting married. It's really nerve wracking. Not just for me, I'm sure."
"Oh, believe me. My nerves are wracked." Buffy replied, twirling the phone cord with her index finger.
"At least we'll never have to go through this with you."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Buffy asked defensively. "Am I *that* repulsive to men?"
"Oh, no! No! I just meant that you're always going on about your career and Newsweek and everything and I just assumed that marriage isn't your, er, n- number one priority and..."
"Breathe, Wills." Buffy consoled her back pedaling friend, "I get where you're coming from. I don't come off as the most marriage-friendly gal on the block."
"Very true."
"But I do, you know." Buffy said.
"Do what?"
"Want to get married."
"Oh."
The two women sat in comfortable silence, the only sound to be heard was the changing of pages from each of their respective magazines.
"I met a guy. His name's Angel." Buffy commented.
"That's nice."
"He's nice."
"Flip."
"Okay."
~
The next day, Spike and Anya gathered around the desk inside Anya's office.
"Is Giles coming today?" Anya asked.
"No. Old Man had to ship out to England for some emergency business with the investors."
"All of the business with the investors are emergencies. They control our money." Anya stated.
"Right." Spike said with a little shake of his head, "Moving on...what do ya got for me?"
Anya brightened.
"I have many, many ideas. I organized them all into a pamphlet." Spike waved her forward. She cleared her throat.
"Idea number one: How to Fully Enjoy Your Orgasm. Idea number two: Orgasms and Everyday Household Items. Idea number three: Miss Kinky Answers All of Your Orgasmic Questions. Idea number four: Why Giving Her Orgasms Will Increase Your Pleasure: Dr. Williams M.D. Explains. Idea number five: Orgasms, Org-"
"Would you lay off the orgasms? Bloody hell, woman. There *are* other things men are interested in besides sex you know."
"You mean things such as cars and tools? I have those ideas in these other pamphlets." She held up two other piles of papers, both of which were considerably thinner than the first. Spike sighed.
"Alright, um...here it goes. I liked the M.D. idea...do we definitely have him lined up?"
"Yes."
"Sick bastard. Still, that would be a "yay" for us. And the...the Miss Kinky idea...great name. Do you think it sounds too Hustler-ish, though?"
"Absolutely not!" Anya proclaimed with a huge grin.
"Fine, then. I'll get someone on that ASAP. Oh, and I'll probably take out the word 'orgasmic'...it just freaks me out."
Anya pouted, but waved her consent.
"Brilliant. That settles everything. Now, what about those two other pamphlet things ya got there?"
Anya cleared her throat again.
"Idea number one: How Cars Can Be Used to Lengthen Your Orgasms. Idea number two..."
Spike inwardly groaned.
It was going to be a long day.
~
"So then the Dingoes are doing a show up in Redding on the 10th and Eureka on the 11th. I'll fly back by the 12th leaving time for any last minute panic attacks and the rehearsal dinner." Oz explained as he, Willow, Xander, and Buffy sat around an oblong table at The Robot's Apartment - a hip LA club - the next weekend.
"And for the bachelor party!!" Xander said, pounding the table. However, with a death glare from Willow, he instantly backed down, "Or not."
"So we'll have the rehearsal dinner and then the ceremony'll be on the 14th." Oz finished.
"I'm getting married on Valentine's Day!!" Willow squealed, clapping her hands together like a manic clown. Buffy smiled warmly, doing her best to bite her tongue about her feelings toward that particular day. Even when she and Riley were together, she never liked it. He would always try to buy her something or do something with her (or just do *her*) but she never let him. She didn't see why love had to be celebrated on a day that was invented by the card companies just to rip everybody off. However...
"That's so romantic." Buffy said. Willow gave her a little look of gratitude for not ruining her moment. The friends sat in silence for a moment.
"Well, everything's getting a little too bittersweet for me." Buffy commented, "Who wants to get their ass kicked in pool?" Oz contemplated the notion and then pushed out his chair.
"I think I'm up for the occasion." Xander pulled on his friend's arm.
"Just a warning, man. When Buffy says 'who wants to get their ass kicked,' she's talking literally."
"Oh, don't be so dramatic. You're just a sore loser. C'mon, Oz." Buffy dragged the short man with her. Willow and Xander shrugged at one another and followed them. Buffy quickly secured a table and grabbed two sticks. She threw one to Oz who caught it.
"You wanna break or do you wanna shoot for it?" Oz asked, rubbing blue chalk on the tip of the stick. Buffy thought about it for a moment.
"I'll just do it." Oz nodded and picked the frame off. Buffy aligned her shot and smoothly sent the white ball toward the perfect triangle, dispersing all of balls across the red felt. A blue ball plopped into the right corner pocket on the opposite end of the table. Buffy smiled.
"Looks like I'm solids." Buffy loved being solids. They always seemed to work for her. She shot again, hitting the green ball in. It, however, decided to be stubborn and popped back out again.
"Shit." Buffy said, pouting. Oz gave a half-smile and took his shot. He didn't hit anything.
"At least you're still going to win." He said, "Cuz I suck."
"Well, where's the fun in that?" Buffy asked, sending the nasty green ball to its final resting place.
"I don't see it." Buffy widened her eyes at the familiar voice. She spun around and practically knocked a smirking Spike over.
"Hey, pet." He said.
"Spike. Wow. How, um, unexpected." She replied. Spike shrugged.
"These your mates?" He motioned around the table.
"Oh! Yeah...everyone, this is Spike, my boss. Spike, this is Oz..." Oz and Spike nodded at each other, "...Xander..."
"Howdy." Xander said with a tiny salute.
"'Ello." Spike replied coolly.
"...and Willow." Buffy finished.
"How's it goin', Red?" Willow's hand flashed up to her hair. She giggled and then just shrugged.
"You playin' some Billiards?" Spike asked the hypothetical question as he ran his finger around the edge of the table, "Nice...you're pretty good, luv. Give me a run for my money."
"I am so not gonna challenge you to a game of pool." Buffy replied. Spike raised his eyebrows.
"Oh? And why's that?"
"Cuz you're my boss and I'd hate to have to let you win." Spike laughed.
"You wouldn't have to *let* me do anything, luv."
"Oz is in a band!" Willow squeaked out randomly. Everyone turned to stare at her. "Well, he is..."
"What do you play, mate?" Spike asked, curious.
"Bass guitar." Oz replied.
"Really? I used to dabble in guitar a bit. I mean, I'm no bleedin' Clapton, but I know a few tunes. You guys travel around?"
"Yeah, we usually stay in California, Arizona, Oregon, and Nevada, though."
"Still. Sounds like you get around. Have a big following?"
"Decent sized. We're called the Dingoes Ate My Baby." Spike smirked.
"Great name."
"We thought so."
As Spike and Oz continued to converse, Buffy pulled Willow and Xander to the side.
"They're bonding!" Buffy hissed, "They're bonding like their some sort of...bondage buddies!"
Xander raised his eyebrows. Buffy made a face.
"Okay, I'm gonna have to live with *that* imagery in my head for the rest of the night. But you knew what I meant." Willow shrugged.
"I don't see what the big deal is."
"The big deal is that he's the boss of the job that I'm going to quit in about 2 1/2 months! They cannot be friends!"
"He seems like a nice guy." Willow said, "And look, Oz is actually laughing. He really gets along with this guy! You can't take that away from my baby." Buffy sighed and nodded...grudgingly, however. Next to them, Xander began to panic.
"What? Spike made him laugh? Out loud? I've never done that! Oh my god...he's laughing again, look!" Buffy leaned over and saw that, indeed, Oz was laughing with Spike, "Stop laughing!! This is not good, this is not good. Oz likes him better than me!"
"No he doesn't." Buffy stated.
"Maybe not yet, but he will! You know he hasn't asked me yet, right?"
"Asked you what yet?" Willow burrowed her eyebrows.
"To be his best man. And now I'm not going to be because of *Spike*" Willow laughed.
"Xander, don't be ridiculous! Oz definitely has you pegged as the best man...he's just not good at asking the sentimental stuff."
"And now he's not going to at all because he can just ask Spike, who makes him laugh, so it won't be as big of a deal!" Buffy shook her head and whispered in Willow's ear.
"We're gonna have to hear about this until he's standing up on the altar with us, isn't he?" Willow stifled a laugh. The three friends moved back over to Spike and Oz.
"...and then he said, 'that's not a pick, that's a checker piece!'" Oz finished his story and Spike burst out laughing.
"You're a bloody good storyteller, mate." Oz shrugged.
"Devon's a funny guy to tell stories about. You should come to one of our after show parties, meet the guys. We're playing in LA next weekend."
"Sounds like a plan."
Willow yawned and rolled her arms above her head.
"What time is it?" She asked, leaning her head against her fiancee's shoulder. Oz looked down at his watch and raised his eyebrows.
"Pretty late. We should probably get going."
Xander looked down at his watch and nodded his agreement.
"Yeah, I have to be at the site tomorrow. Apparently there's some frame- work problem that can't wait til Monday." He turned around and hugged Buffy. "See ya next weekend, Buffster."
"Bye." Buffy said, still hugging her friend. Spike raised one eyebrow at the display...unanswered questions playing on his face.
He broke his gaze away from Xander and Buffy when Willow cut in. Spike said goodbye to Oz, and firmly shook his hand, promising to keep in touch. Soon, Buffy was the only one left of the group. She gave him a little smile and then pulled out a phone.
"Los Angeles, California." She paused, "Hi, uh, yes...I need the number of a cab service."
"Luv-" Spike began.
"Any one, it doesn't matter." Buffy said to the person on the other side of the line, ignoring Spike.
"Pet-"
"Yes, that's fine."
"Buffy!" Spike exclaimed, trying to get her attention. Buffy looked over at him.
"Wow. You do know my name." Spike glared at her. "Sorry."
"Say you're sorry if you mean it, not just because I control your paycheck." He replied. Buffy quickly jotted down the number that was given to her. "I can give you a ride, if you'd like." Spike wondered. But, none the less, his heart was pounding wildly as he anticipated her answer. Buffy crinkled her brow.
"No, thank you." She finally replied. Spike gave her a wan smile.
"You'd rather throw out some of your perfectly useful money than accept a ride from me? That's a bit harsh, luv."
"Really, I don't want to be a bother." Buffy said, beginning to punch the numbers into her phone. Spike's hand wrapped around hers, stopping her movement.
"I don't bite, Buffy." He said, his eyes blazing into hers. Buffy gulped and put her phone away.
"Okay." She finally agreed, "I'll go." Spike smirked.
"Great." Buffy nodded and smiled back.
"Just let me get my coat."
Spike breathed in and swung his hands idly.
Buffy typed aimlessly on her iBook, story ideas pouring out from her fingers. She sighed when she read down the list. None of them were appropriate for S&M.
"My, my." A British voice said behind her, "That's, er, quite a list. I'm afraid we may not be able to use many of them." Buffy spun around and came face to face with an older man with a round face, still handsome, with wire- rim glasses resting upon the bridge of his nose. He smiled at her and ducked his head,
"Please excuse me for just interrupting you in this manner. Rupert Giles. I own the magazine." Buffy smiled back and held her hand out.
"Buffy Summers. I'm new here."
"I assumed as much. I read your, uh, your column...quite impressive. I believe I nearly, well, I nearly cried from laughter." Buffy raised her eyebrows...not so much at his comments, but at the man himself.
"So...you're like the Head Honcho guy around here." Buffy stated to which Giles nodded.
"Yes. This magazine began in my family and it has finally been returned to its original roots. It started with my uncle, er, Christopher Sanders, and his partner, Maurice Martisan. Back then it was a, uh, an underground political magazine. When Uncle Sanders, um, as he was known, when he, uh, died, the, the Martisan family took it over. Eventually Sanders & Martisan shaped into the empire that it is today." Buffy stretched her fingers out and looked back up at the man in front of her.
"Would your uncle like S&M now, do you think?" Giles widened his eyes in shock.
"Well, well. You really are , uh, a, a, a, a journalist, aren't you? In, um, in all perfect honesty, my guess would be no. He was always a, uh, an um, an upstanding gentlemen, n-not the type to read a magazine entitled S&M." Buffy detected the note of disgust as he stated the more, um, modern name for the publication. She gave him a half-smile, but kept her bewilderedness to herself. The stuttering, helplessly adorable man in front of her was the one responsible for the magazine which she had been so adamantly against. Buffy and Giles exchanged a few more words until he had to get back to work. They said their goodbyes and Buffy sat back down in her chair, a strange feeling taking her over. She had *liked* Mr. Giles. She honestly liked him. .
Buffy stood up from her desk and walked across the room to her boss's office. She knocked on the swirly-glassed door.
"It's open!" A North London accent beckoned. Buffy stepped in and opened her mouth, but Spike thrust two pictures in front of her face.
"Which one?"
They were two cars.
"Excuse me?" She asked, looking down.
"Which one do you like best?" Buffy cocked an incredulous eyebrow, but scanned over the picture. One was a Boxter, the other a 9-11.
"Um, the Boxter?" Spike rolled his eyes.
"Figures you'd pick the chick one."
"You asked me which one I'd like better and me being a chi- a *woman* that's the one I'd pick. And just so you know, not many people would call a Porsche Boxter a "chick car."" Spike sighed.
"This is so frustrating!" He flopped back into his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Buffy contained a laugh.
"Could you take a moment out of dealing with your Oh-So-Serious issues for one minute to answer some of my questions?" Spike perked his head up.
"Sure, luv. What's on your mind?" Buffy folded her arms, a little taken aback by just being handed the floor.
"Um, it's about Mr. Giles. What's his story?" "You mean why is a scone- eating, literature reading bloke like him doing with a magazine like this?" Buffy avoided his gaze, "It's perfectly understandable. A lot of people wonder the same thing. I've had a few investors comment that I'd make a much better top editor than him." Spike's smirk molded into a smile, "But they're wrong. Wanna know why, kitten?" Buffy shrugged, feigning indifference, when curiosity was truly bubbling up inside her at his words.
"Because he's the Ripper."
This didn't have quite the effect Spike was hoping for.
"Huh?" Spike rolled his eyes again.
"The Ripper, woman! Haven't you ever of Jack the Ripper? Giles is the Ripper!" Buffy wrinkled her nose.
"He kills prostitutes?"
"Well, no one actually takes the allusion seriously, pet. It just means that's he's got balls of steel, he doesn't take anyone's shit. Me, on the other hand, I'm a bloody doormat when a gorgeous women strolls in. Melt like bleedin' putty."
"Oh." Buffy stated simply.
The pair stood in awkward silence for a few moments until Spike cleared his throat.
"So, you think I should go with the 9-11, then?"
~
"Ooh! Turn to page 54 and check out the top right picture! It's perfect!" Buffy exclaimed into the phone she held between the crook of her neck. She smiled as she heard Willow sigh on the other end.
"Buffy." Willow spoke very slowly, "It's yellow. Brides do not wear yellow." Buffy rolled her eyes.
"Doi. What sort of idiot do you take me for? I was talking about the bridesmaid dresses. It would look sooo good on me."
Pause.
"Will?"
"It's too pretty." Willow admitted sheepishly. Buffy bolted upright.
"Please tell me you're joking."
Another pause.
"Willow!"
"I'm sorry!" The redhead screeched, "It's true though!"
"Don't you dare go all Lucifer's Bride on me now." Buffy swore she could hear Willow's eyebrows being drawn in.
"Lucifer's Bride? Never heard of that one before..."
"Well," Buffy reasoned, "I'm sure if the devil * did * have a bride, she wouldn't be a very happy camper." Suddenly, Willow gasped.
"Oh...Oh! Buffy! Turn the page! It's the perfect bridesmaid dress!!" Buffy turned to page 56 and lifted a corner of her lip.
"The blue one? Kinda..." Buffy began, but soon found that there were no words.
"It's soo great for a winter wedding!"
"A winter wedding in California." Buffy reminded her.
"A winter wedding none the less. I'm definitely gonna order it." Buffy sighed inwardly, examining the picture. The dress was navy blue with long sleeves...it was pretty, but it just...it seemed to come straight out of a Renaissance fair.
"Yay." Buffy replied half-heartedly. Quickly realizing that she might hurt her friend's feelings, Buffy changed the subject.
"How weird is this? Looking through bridal catalogues on the phone together for you and Oz's wedding. I mean, I remember when you were hesitant to go out with him because he was shorter than you." Buffy laughed.
"I know! The time has flown by so quickly. Flip." Buffy turned the page, "It's just...god, I can't believe I'm getting married. It's really nerve wracking. Not just for me, I'm sure."
"Oh, believe me. My nerves are wracked." Buffy replied, twirling the phone cord with her index finger.
"At least we'll never have to go through this with you."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Buffy asked defensively. "Am I *that* repulsive to men?"
"Oh, no! No! I just meant that you're always going on about your career and Newsweek and everything and I just assumed that marriage isn't your, er, n- number one priority and..."
"Breathe, Wills." Buffy consoled her back pedaling friend, "I get where you're coming from. I don't come off as the most marriage-friendly gal on the block."
"Very true."
"But I do, you know." Buffy said.
"Do what?"
"Want to get married."
"Oh."
The two women sat in comfortable silence, the only sound to be heard was the changing of pages from each of their respective magazines.
"I met a guy. His name's Angel." Buffy commented.
"That's nice."
"He's nice."
"Flip."
"Okay."
~
The next day, Spike and Anya gathered around the desk inside Anya's office.
"Is Giles coming today?" Anya asked.
"No. Old Man had to ship out to England for some emergency business with the investors."
"All of the business with the investors are emergencies. They control our money." Anya stated.
"Right." Spike said with a little shake of his head, "Moving on...what do ya got for me?"
Anya brightened.
"I have many, many ideas. I organized them all into a pamphlet." Spike waved her forward. She cleared her throat.
"Idea number one: How to Fully Enjoy Your Orgasm. Idea number two: Orgasms and Everyday Household Items. Idea number three: Miss Kinky Answers All of Your Orgasmic Questions. Idea number four: Why Giving Her Orgasms Will Increase Your Pleasure: Dr. Williams M.D. Explains. Idea number five: Orgasms, Org-"
"Would you lay off the orgasms? Bloody hell, woman. There *are* other things men are interested in besides sex you know."
"You mean things such as cars and tools? I have those ideas in these other pamphlets." She held up two other piles of papers, both of which were considerably thinner than the first. Spike sighed.
"Alright, um...here it goes. I liked the M.D. idea...do we definitely have him lined up?"
"Yes."
"Sick bastard. Still, that would be a "yay" for us. And the...the Miss Kinky idea...great name. Do you think it sounds too Hustler-ish, though?"
"Absolutely not!" Anya proclaimed with a huge grin.
"Fine, then. I'll get someone on that ASAP. Oh, and I'll probably take out the word 'orgasmic'...it just freaks me out."
Anya pouted, but waved her consent.
"Brilliant. That settles everything. Now, what about those two other pamphlet things ya got there?"
Anya cleared her throat again.
"Idea number one: How Cars Can Be Used to Lengthen Your Orgasms. Idea number two..."
Spike inwardly groaned.
It was going to be a long day.
~
"So then the Dingoes are doing a show up in Redding on the 10th and Eureka on the 11th. I'll fly back by the 12th leaving time for any last minute panic attacks and the rehearsal dinner." Oz explained as he, Willow, Xander, and Buffy sat around an oblong table at The Robot's Apartment - a hip LA club - the next weekend.
"And for the bachelor party!!" Xander said, pounding the table. However, with a death glare from Willow, he instantly backed down, "Or not."
"So we'll have the rehearsal dinner and then the ceremony'll be on the 14th." Oz finished.
"I'm getting married on Valentine's Day!!" Willow squealed, clapping her hands together like a manic clown. Buffy smiled warmly, doing her best to bite her tongue about her feelings toward that particular day. Even when she and Riley were together, she never liked it. He would always try to buy her something or do something with her (or just do *her*) but she never let him. She didn't see why love had to be celebrated on a day that was invented by the card companies just to rip everybody off. However...
"That's so romantic." Buffy said. Willow gave her a little look of gratitude for not ruining her moment. The friends sat in silence for a moment.
"Well, everything's getting a little too bittersweet for me." Buffy commented, "Who wants to get their ass kicked in pool?" Oz contemplated the notion and then pushed out his chair.
"I think I'm up for the occasion." Xander pulled on his friend's arm.
"Just a warning, man. When Buffy says 'who wants to get their ass kicked,' she's talking literally."
"Oh, don't be so dramatic. You're just a sore loser. C'mon, Oz." Buffy dragged the short man with her. Willow and Xander shrugged at one another and followed them. Buffy quickly secured a table and grabbed two sticks. She threw one to Oz who caught it.
"You wanna break or do you wanna shoot for it?" Oz asked, rubbing blue chalk on the tip of the stick. Buffy thought about it for a moment.
"I'll just do it." Oz nodded and picked the frame off. Buffy aligned her shot and smoothly sent the white ball toward the perfect triangle, dispersing all of balls across the red felt. A blue ball plopped into the right corner pocket on the opposite end of the table. Buffy smiled.
"Looks like I'm solids." Buffy loved being solids. They always seemed to work for her. She shot again, hitting the green ball in. It, however, decided to be stubborn and popped back out again.
"Shit." Buffy said, pouting. Oz gave a half-smile and took his shot. He didn't hit anything.
"At least you're still going to win." He said, "Cuz I suck."
"Well, where's the fun in that?" Buffy asked, sending the nasty green ball to its final resting place.
"I don't see it." Buffy widened her eyes at the familiar voice. She spun around and practically knocked a smirking Spike over.
"Hey, pet." He said.
"Spike. Wow. How, um, unexpected." She replied. Spike shrugged.
"These your mates?" He motioned around the table.
"Oh! Yeah...everyone, this is Spike, my boss. Spike, this is Oz..." Oz and Spike nodded at each other, "...Xander..."
"Howdy." Xander said with a tiny salute.
"'Ello." Spike replied coolly.
"...and Willow." Buffy finished.
"How's it goin', Red?" Willow's hand flashed up to her hair. She giggled and then just shrugged.
"You playin' some Billiards?" Spike asked the hypothetical question as he ran his finger around the edge of the table, "Nice...you're pretty good, luv. Give me a run for my money."
"I am so not gonna challenge you to a game of pool." Buffy replied. Spike raised his eyebrows.
"Oh? And why's that?"
"Cuz you're my boss and I'd hate to have to let you win." Spike laughed.
"You wouldn't have to *let* me do anything, luv."
"Oz is in a band!" Willow squeaked out randomly. Everyone turned to stare at her. "Well, he is..."
"What do you play, mate?" Spike asked, curious.
"Bass guitar." Oz replied.
"Really? I used to dabble in guitar a bit. I mean, I'm no bleedin' Clapton, but I know a few tunes. You guys travel around?"
"Yeah, we usually stay in California, Arizona, Oregon, and Nevada, though."
"Still. Sounds like you get around. Have a big following?"
"Decent sized. We're called the Dingoes Ate My Baby." Spike smirked.
"Great name."
"We thought so."
As Spike and Oz continued to converse, Buffy pulled Willow and Xander to the side.
"They're bonding!" Buffy hissed, "They're bonding like their some sort of...bondage buddies!"
Xander raised his eyebrows. Buffy made a face.
"Okay, I'm gonna have to live with *that* imagery in my head for the rest of the night. But you knew what I meant." Willow shrugged.
"I don't see what the big deal is."
"The big deal is that he's the boss of the job that I'm going to quit in about 2 1/2 months! They cannot be friends!"
"He seems like a nice guy." Willow said, "And look, Oz is actually laughing. He really gets along with this guy! You can't take that away from my baby." Buffy sighed and nodded...grudgingly, however. Next to them, Xander began to panic.
"What? Spike made him laugh? Out loud? I've never done that! Oh my god...he's laughing again, look!" Buffy leaned over and saw that, indeed, Oz was laughing with Spike, "Stop laughing!! This is not good, this is not good. Oz likes him better than me!"
"No he doesn't." Buffy stated.
"Maybe not yet, but he will! You know he hasn't asked me yet, right?"
"Asked you what yet?" Willow burrowed her eyebrows.
"To be his best man. And now I'm not going to be because of *Spike*" Willow laughed.
"Xander, don't be ridiculous! Oz definitely has you pegged as the best man...he's just not good at asking the sentimental stuff."
"And now he's not going to at all because he can just ask Spike, who makes him laugh, so it won't be as big of a deal!" Buffy shook her head and whispered in Willow's ear.
"We're gonna have to hear about this until he's standing up on the altar with us, isn't he?" Willow stifled a laugh. The three friends moved back over to Spike and Oz.
"...and then he said, 'that's not a pick, that's a checker piece!'" Oz finished his story and Spike burst out laughing.
"You're a bloody good storyteller, mate." Oz shrugged.
"Devon's a funny guy to tell stories about. You should come to one of our after show parties, meet the guys. We're playing in LA next weekend."
"Sounds like a plan."
Willow yawned and rolled her arms above her head.
"What time is it?" She asked, leaning her head against her fiancee's shoulder. Oz looked down at his watch and raised his eyebrows.
"Pretty late. We should probably get going."
Xander looked down at his watch and nodded his agreement.
"Yeah, I have to be at the site tomorrow. Apparently there's some frame- work problem that can't wait til Monday." He turned around and hugged Buffy. "See ya next weekend, Buffster."
"Bye." Buffy said, still hugging her friend. Spike raised one eyebrow at the display...unanswered questions playing on his face.
He broke his gaze away from Xander and Buffy when Willow cut in. Spike said goodbye to Oz, and firmly shook his hand, promising to keep in touch. Soon, Buffy was the only one left of the group. She gave him a little smile and then pulled out a phone.
"Los Angeles, California." She paused, "Hi, uh, yes...I need the number of a cab service."
"Luv-" Spike began.
"Any one, it doesn't matter." Buffy said to the person on the other side of the line, ignoring Spike.
"Pet-"
"Yes, that's fine."
"Buffy!" Spike exclaimed, trying to get her attention. Buffy looked over at him.
"Wow. You do know my name." Spike glared at her. "Sorry."
"Say you're sorry if you mean it, not just because I control your paycheck." He replied. Buffy quickly jotted down the number that was given to her. "I can give you a ride, if you'd like." Spike wondered. But, none the less, his heart was pounding wildly as he anticipated her answer. Buffy crinkled her brow.
"No, thank you." She finally replied. Spike gave her a wan smile.
"You'd rather throw out some of your perfectly useful money than accept a ride from me? That's a bit harsh, luv."
"Really, I don't want to be a bother." Buffy said, beginning to punch the numbers into her phone. Spike's hand wrapped around hers, stopping her movement.
"I don't bite, Buffy." He said, his eyes blazing into hers. Buffy gulped and put her phone away.
"Okay." She finally agreed, "I'll go." Spike smirked.
"Great." Buffy nodded and smiled back.
"Just let me get my coat."
Spike breathed in and swung his hands idly.