Just One Little Kiss

:: CHAPTER ONE ::

"Remind me again why I'm doing this, Pete." Spike said, sighing. His assistant stepped forward with a clipboard leading the way to the elevator that would take them to the sixth floor.

"Because you're a true friend?" He suggested. Spike rolled his eyes.

"An actual reason, now." He growled in frustration, tucking his shirt into his trousers and straightening his tie.

"Because you're the youngest and best looking manager of Cosy Comfort chain of Sleepeasy hotels. Because you're at the forefront of the Sleepeasy advertising campaign. And, because he'll fire you if you don't!" Pete said, working up volume in his voice.

"Why else?" Spike asked, angrily.

Pete took a deep breath. "I don't see what the big problem is anyway. You do a fortnight's filming with a top model and make a load of cash, as well as boosting sales worldwide. Frankly, I'd jump at the chance to press my body against the model they've hired." He said, looking down at the clipboard in his arms.

"Bloody hell, Pete!" He said, crinkling up his nose. "How can you be so vain?" It was Pete's turn to roll his eyes.

"Not all of us have a British accent. Not all of us have an apparently attractive body. And, not all of us have women begging to be in our beds!" He glared at his friend and boss.

"Did you notice that you always give me three reasons whenever I ask you a question?" Spike asked, a smirk curling on his lips. He dodged just in time to miss the clipboard from whacking him in the head. "Watch it, mate. I could fire you for that!" Pete glared at him, until he apologised. "Sorry. I forgot, I'm not supposed to mention the rank thing."

"Good boy." Pete said.

Spike ran his fingers through his hair before straightening his jacket again. "So, what's this model's name, anyway? Don't tell me; Ginger Hollybush, or Chantal Smoothlegs, or…um…" He trailed off, trying to think.

"Grow up, Spike." Pete snapped, "Her name is…"

"Summers!" Spike exclaimed as the lift stopped on the fourth floor, opened, and revealed Buffy's shocked eyes.

"William?" She replied in disbelief. They stood glaring at each other for a moment before the doors shut and the lift continued up.

FLASHBACK

Spike walked into class, late as usual and out of breath. Everyone stopped as the door slammed and looked up at him. "Hey, what'd I miss?" He asked. A few of the girls blushed slightly as he looked at them, his black and red combo giving him a mysterious edge.

It was Buffy who answered; "As per usual, William, you missed important schooling. We've been discussing the importance of dreams in Of Mice And Men."

He smiled. "Good." He said, before turning to leave.

"Er, Mr Johnson!" Called the teacher after him, but he'd already gone.

FLASHBACK

"William Johnson is the Mr Johnson I'm going to meet?!" Buffy half exclaimed half shrieked as the elevator doors shut on his stunned face. She turned to her personal assistant with an angered expression on her face.

"You knew it from the beginning, Buffy." Marie brushed off, pressing the button for the next one.

"Er, no! No I didn't!" She argued.

"Er, yes, yes you did." Her friend mocked. "And you had no problem about it before."

"That was when I thought it was Mr Johnson! Not William Johnson!" She brought a hand to her head and closed her eyes to try and calm herself.

"What's your problem? He's hot and you get to curl up next to him in a bed, a sofa, a…" she flicked through some of the pages in her filofax, "…ooh! A Jacuzzi!"

Buffy forced her friend to close the filofax and look her in the eye.

"This is William Johnson." She said. "I.e. Spike Johnson. I.e. the guy who made High School a living hell for me and everyone else with half a mind to learn."

Marie's face lit up. "That was Spike!" She began to buzz. "The Spike you've said so much about!" She smiled and shook her head in disbelief. "Wow! He must have really filled out since High School…phwaah!"

"MARIE!" Buffy squealed, trying to get her attention. "I…can…not…do…this!" She said, in a desperate attempt to calm herself down. "Let's just walk away. We can do that, right? I've still got the deal with Dior."

"Na-ah," she shook her head, "the thing with Dior was dependent on this thing. You have to do it, Buffy, or you'll lose millions. Come on, it can't be that bad."

::

"Oh, yes it can!" Shouted Spike, before clamping a hand over his mouth to shut himself up. He took a deep breath. "That's the Summers who made my High School life a living hell!"

Pete raised his eyebrows. "That was Buffy Summers?" Spike nodded. "Wow – she's a lot hotter than you made out." Spike tilted his head and nodded for a moment before realising what he was saying.

"What? No!" He angered. "Come on, mate. Let's just forget this whole thing."

Pete put a hand on his shoulder. "Dude, listen. You have to do this thing." He spoke the words slowly and nodded whilst Spike shook his head. "It's worth your job."

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