Daydreamer
Jessica Charlotte
A/N: Thanxs for the reviews, guys!!! Such excellent inspiration.
Anonymous: Thanxs for correcting my spelling-I fixed that mistake.
First Date
~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~@
Buffy sat on her vanity, lightly combing through her loosely curled hair. Her outfit was casual, a pair of hip-hugging black jeans and a crimson halter top, with a pair of plain white sneakers. A light lining of pewter eyeliner and silver shadow, mixed with a coat of pouty pink lip- gloss. She tossed her lip-gloss in her black purse and stuffed her wallet in as well. She was surveying herself in her mirror when the doorbell rang. A blinding smile crossed her face as she made her way out of her room and down the stairs. She managed to dim her smile before she opened the door. "Hey," she said looking up at him. She inhaled sharply at his appearance, Doc Martin boots, tight black jeans, a dark blue silk shirt with the top button left unbuttoned, and his hair messily gelled, leaving an array of curls and spikes.
He looked her up and down, a seductive smirk spreading across his face, "You look good enough to eat tonight, pet." His smirk grew when she blushed. He leant down towards her and whispered in her ear, "Did you know that red is my favorite color?"
Before she had a chance to recover and respond, her mother called, "Buffy, are you heading out now dear?"
Spike straightened and Buffy smiled at him, "Yes, mom, I'll be home by midnight!"
"Okay! Have a good time!"
"'Kay mom! Bye now!"
She gently ushered Spike out of the house and closed the door behind them. "So, where too, Spike?" she asked cheerfully.
He shrugged, "I figured we could go eat something at the Bronze then work on our project, you know," he leered at her. "Get the juices flowing."
She blushed again before replying, "Sounds good."
He nodded as if closing some sort of deal and held out his arm for her. She took it and he led her to his car parked at the curb. He opened the door for her and made a wild gesture, "Milady."
She smiled in bemusement, "Why thank you milord." She slid in and watched him close her door and walk around to the driver's side and hop in.
He started the car and they drove around for a few minutes in silence before Buffy asked, "What's your real name?" He sent her a pointed look. "I mean, not that Spike isn't a great name and all, but it seems kind of doubtful that a guy like Giles would name his son Spike."
He smirked, "Right you are, luv." He paused before asking, "Did your mum really name you Buffy."
She grimaced slightly, "No, but you tell me yours and I'll tell you mine."
He laughed at that, "Okay, pet. My real name is William James Giles. And yours?"
"Elizabeth Anne Summers. So how did you get a nickname like Spike?"
"Well, I've heard a few rumors spread around. My incredible bedside manner, and a few different versions of me using 'railroad spikes' as weapons."
She looked at him for a moment before saying, "And the truth would be.?"
"The truth? I had a morbid fascination for railroad spikes. But I definitely did not injure anyone. And how did you get a nickname like Buffy anyways?"
She shrugged nonchalantly, "Oh, I don't know. Someone just started calling me that and it stuck."
He smirked, "I know you're lying, pet. Now come on, how bad could it be?"
She looked at him skeptically, "Pretty bad, trust me."
"I bet I could top it."
"Okay, okay, I give up. When I was in the eighth grade, Xander, Willow, and I watched that 80's flick, Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Well, that ended up being the big thing in our class, you know the drill; if you've seen that movie, you're cool. I was seriously into karate and tae kwon do at that time and had a black belt. Some people would come to the little meet type things we had and I developed the nickname Slayer. When Xander found out about that, he decided that was too manly and not fit for a girl so he re-nicknamed me Buffy."
He looked at her sarcastically, "Oh, yeh, that was such a horrible story."
She huffed, "I never said that that was all!"
"Okay, pet, what was the worst of it then?"
"Well," she paused, "Then I pretty much became the freak and everyone accused me of hunting vampires, especially Cordelia Chase's crowd. Then all sorts of stupid pranks were pulled on me, and it didn't help that I had glasses at the time."
"You had glasses?" Spike asked, his tone unreadable.
Her eyes widened in mortification and she thought, I can't believe I let that slip. She noticed he was still looking at her so she stuttered out an answer, "W-well, yes. I did, but only to read the board better."
"So, why don't you need them anymore?" he asked, curiosity filling his voice.
"I sit in the front," she replied seriously, in a flat tone.
He smiled widely, glancing over at her to see her looking at him curiously. "Penny for your thoughts, luv?"
"Just wondering why this conversation has ended up you giving the questions and me giving the answers when it was supposed to be the other way around," she replied slyly.
He shrugged, "Dunno, pet. Ask me anything you like."
She thought for a moment before asking, "Did you always have the whole bad-ass persona? You know, the whole Billy Idol look."
"Nope, I used to be a bloody ponce who wore tweed like my Da' and wrote poetry."
"You write poetry?" she asked, her interest piqued.
"Used to write poetry, it was bloody bad too."
"Maybe you could read me some sometime?" she asked, hope and flirtatiousness filling her voice.
"What?" he asked, slightly mortified, "No!"
"Fine!" she huffed, feeling slightly hurt.
There was an awkward pause as they drove in silence before he said, "Well, maybe I will sometime. If you promise not to laugh."
Jessica Charlotte
A/N: Thanxs for the reviews, guys!!! Such excellent inspiration.
Anonymous: Thanxs for correcting my spelling-I fixed that mistake.
First Date
~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~@
Buffy sat on her vanity, lightly combing through her loosely curled hair. Her outfit was casual, a pair of hip-hugging black jeans and a crimson halter top, with a pair of plain white sneakers. A light lining of pewter eyeliner and silver shadow, mixed with a coat of pouty pink lip- gloss. She tossed her lip-gloss in her black purse and stuffed her wallet in as well. She was surveying herself in her mirror when the doorbell rang. A blinding smile crossed her face as she made her way out of her room and down the stairs. She managed to dim her smile before she opened the door. "Hey," she said looking up at him. She inhaled sharply at his appearance, Doc Martin boots, tight black jeans, a dark blue silk shirt with the top button left unbuttoned, and his hair messily gelled, leaving an array of curls and spikes.
He looked her up and down, a seductive smirk spreading across his face, "You look good enough to eat tonight, pet." His smirk grew when she blushed. He leant down towards her and whispered in her ear, "Did you know that red is my favorite color?"
Before she had a chance to recover and respond, her mother called, "Buffy, are you heading out now dear?"
Spike straightened and Buffy smiled at him, "Yes, mom, I'll be home by midnight!"
"Okay! Have a good time!"
"'Kay mom! Bye now!"
She gently ushered Spike out of the house and closed the door behind them. "So, where too, Spike?" she asked cheerfully.
He shrugged, "I figured we could go eat something at the Bronze then work on our project, you know," he leered at her. "Get the juices flowing."
She blushed again before replying, "Sounds good."
He nodded as if closing some sort of deal and held out his arm for her. She took it and he led her to his car parked at the curb. He opened the door for her and made a wild gesture, "Milady."
She smiled in bemusement, "Why thank you milord." She slid in and watched him close her door and walk around to the driver's side and hop in.
He started the car and they drove around for a few minutes in silence before Buffy asked, "What's your real name?" He sent her a pointed look. "I mean, not that Spike isn't a great name and all, but it seems kind of doubtful that a guy like Giles would name his son Spike."
He smirked, "Right you are, luv." He paused before asking, "Did your mum really name you Buffy."
She grimaced slightly, "No, but you tell me yours and I'll tell you mine."
He laughed at that, "Okay, pet. My real name is William James Giles. And yours?"
"Elizabeth Anne Summers. So how did you get a nickname like Spike?"
"Well, I've heard a few rumors spread around. My incredible bedside manner, and a few different versions of me using 'railroad spikes' as weapons."
She looked at him for a moment before saying, "And the truth would be.?"
"The truth? I had a morbid fascination for railroad spikes. But I definitely did not injure anyone. And how did you get a nickname like Buffy anyways?"
She shrugged nonchalantly, "Oh, I don't know. Someone just started calling me that and it stuck."
He smirked, "I know you're lying, pet. Now come on, how bad could it be?"
She looked at him skeptically, "Pretty bad, trust me."
"I bet I could top it."
"Okay, okay, I give up. When I was in the eighth grade, Xander, Willow, and I watched that 80's flick, Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Well, that ended up being the big thing in our class, you know the drill; if you've seen that movie, you're cool. I was seriously into karate and tae kwon do at that time and had a black belt. Some people would come to the little meet type things we had and I developed the nickname Slayer. When Xander found out about that, he decided that was too manly and not fit for a girl so he re-nicknamed me Buffy."
He looked at her sarcastically, "Oh, yeh, that was such a horrible story."
She huffed, "I never said that that was all!"
"Okay, pet, what was the worst of it then?"
"Well," she paused, "Then I pretty much became the freak and everyone accused me of hunting vampires, especially Cordelia Chase's crowd. Then all sorts of stupid pranks were pulled on me, and it didn't help that I had glasses at the time."
"You had glasses?" Spike asked, his tone unreadable.
Her eyes widened in mortification and she thought, I can't believe I let that slip. She noticed he was still looking at her so she stuttered out an answer, "W-well, yes. I did, but only to read the board better."
"So, why don't you need them anymore?" he asked, curiosity filling his voice.
"I sit in the front," she replied seriously, in a flat tone.
He smiled widely, glancing over at her to see her looking at him curiously. "Penny for your thoughts, luv?"
"Just wondering why this conversation has ended up you giving the questions and me giving the answers when it was supposed to be the other way around," she replied slyly.
He shrugged, "Dunno, pet. Ask me anything you like."
She thought for a moment before asking, "Did you always have the whole bad-ass persona? You know, the whole Billy Idol look."
"Nope, I used to be a bloody ponce who wore tweed like my Da' and wrote poetry."
"You write poetry?" she asked, her interest piqued.
"Used to write poetry, it was bloody bad too."
"Maybe you could read me some sometime?" she asked, hope and flirtatiousness filling her voice.
"What?" he asked, slightly mortified, "No!"
"Fine!" she huffed, feeling slightly hurt.
There was an awkward pause as they drove in silence before he said, "Well, maybe I will sometime. If you promise not to laugh."