Blue eyes met green over the table. Before both pairs of eyes darted back to the plates in front of them. This date's going so well... Willow grumbled mentally. They hadn't spoken all evening except when ordering their dinner, she had never known Spike to be...shy. And it was incredibly unnerving.

Bloody hell, Spike! the former-vampire told himself. She probably thinks you're a moron! And after you shelled out all that cash to get a nice private corner. "So, uh...is the food good?" he asked her.

"Very good," Willow murmured. "Aren't you going to eat? I swear you've been moving that piece of lettuce around for fifteen minutes."

"Oh..." he said. "Just been a while since I've eaten. Y'know food you don't get out of a bag." Willow grinned at him.

"Let me help you with that," Willow stated, she took his fork and stabbed said-lettuce and fed it to him.

He chewed it and swallowed giving her a little grin. "Mmm...good," he murmured. "Better than I remember...or maybe it's just the company."

"Got any sevens?" Amy inquired.

"Go fish," Dawn said. Amy pouted and dug into the pile of cards between them.

She grinned at the card she drew and laid out her cards. "I win," the witch chirped.

"Again?" Dawn whined.

"Yeah," Amy smiled. "Wanna do something else?"

"How about we make brownies?" Dawn asked.

Amy looked at the clock. "It's 9:36 p.m.," she stated.

"So?" Dawn replied, wide-eyed. "'Sides Willow and Buffy say you make the best brownies on earth."

Amy smirked. "Flattery will get you everywhere, little one," she said, ruffling Dawn's hair as she stood up.

"Hey," Dawn cried, standing up and stretching. The two brunettes went to the kitchen and began to prepare their dinner of brownies.

Willow giggled. "That is so not true," she stated as they walked hand-in-hand on Sunnydale's pier. It wasn't the most direct route to the Bronze but it was scenic.

"It's true..." Spike defended. "I did play bass for the Sex Pistols once..."

"You're lying, you evil liar-guy," Willow scolded. "If you did play you would have told me so a long time ago, so nyah."

"Yeah? Well...I did, I threatened to kill them brutally unless they let me play and they did," he shrugged.

"Okay...that's kinda mean," Willow mused.

"I'm...I was a vampire, y'know Red," he answered.

"Maybe. But you don't threaten the Sex Pistols. That's sacrilege," Willow replied.

"Well, I did," Spike smirked, he slipped his hand out of hers and wrapped it around her shoulders and she wrapped hers around his waist.

"You're a bad, bad man," she teased.

"I was," Spike smirked.

"I know, I know..." Willow stated. "You're the big bad."

"And don't you forget it," he replied.

"I won't," she answered, giving him a peck on the lips. "Ooh, a photo booth...can we?" Spike was about to say no when he saw her face.

"Oh...all right," he answered and she almost dragged him to the booth. He put some money into the machine and the two entered the little booth, Willow sitting on Spike's lap.

A few minutes later, the two left the booth, laughing. The machine spit out the strip of pictures. The first was Willow just sitting on Spike's lap looking prim and proper, the second Spike doing an exaggerated vampire pose and Willow playing the scared victim, the third was Willow leaning back on Spike both of them grinning like idiots and the fourth one was of Willow and Spike kissing.

"See?" Willow said as she showed Spike the pictures.

"You look absolutely delicious, Willow," he answered and she blushed.

"Twelve brownies full of chocolatey goodness coming right up," Amy said as she carefully pulled the pan out of the oven. She placed the steaming pan on a counter and removed the mitts.

Dawn grinned until Buffy entered from her patrol. "Ooh, chocolate..." the blonde said.

"Our chocolate," the teenager stated. "And we will fight to the death."

"Come on, Dawn. Guess that gives us four apiece," Amy sighed as she cut the brownies and handed some of them to Buffy and Dawn, leaving four for herself.

"Thank you, Amy!" Buffy and Dawn chimed.

As Willow and Spike finally arrived at the Bronze, he led them to a relatively secluded table, they talked about nothing in particular until a slow song played. "Do you...uh...wanna dance?" Willow asked.

"Love to, pet," he answered as she led him onto the dance floor. He pulled her close, scant inches between them and she practically melted in his embrace as they slowly moved to the music. She lay her head on his shoulder, entranced by the sound of his heart and the music.

"This is nice," she whispered.

"Yes, it really is," he replied.