The four men had attacked an onion blossom and three dozen hot wings by nine o'clock. Spike looked down at his watch and was about to announce that he needed to get home to prep for an early class when she walked in. His eyes locked on her bright green gaze immediately and he was enthralled. He watched her walk into the Bronze, her silky blonde hair hainging in loose waves down her back. Her friend looked familiar. He squinted across the room, trying to get a better look at the slight redhead who was giggling beside her. Rosenberg, he remembered. The quiet girl was in his twilight Creative Writing class. She wrote some of the more entertaining sci-fi stories he'd read during the semester. She had quite a promising future with her writings of witches and vampire hunters. Her musings always left him wanting more.

The blonde had sidled up to a beefy looking boy with close-cropped sandy hair and a broad smile. He rolled his blue and white flannel sleeves up to his elbows and nodded, before taking a cue from the rack and rolling it across the table to make sure it wasn't warped.

Xander followed Spike's eyes over to the billiards area and swore under his breath.

"You know, I'd feel sorry for Finn, but if he's stupid enough to play her after losing $250 last month, it's his own fault," Xander announced. "She'll never go out with him. I don't know why he keeps playing her little games."

Angel couldn't help but agree. The first time he saw Buffy, he was sure that he could get her to go out with him. She quickly dispelled that belief. She'd eyed him for a moment and smiled, licking her lips, and then challenged him to a game of nine-ball. If he could beat her, he could date her. But for each game he lost, he had to remove an article of clothing. Buffy had riveted her eyes to his crotch and grinned while she took apart he cue stick and put it back in its box. She made the comment about needing a little more monster in her man and that, sadly, Angel just wasn't up to task. His cheeks warmed at the memory of that humiliating moment. Xander seemed to catch the brood before it faded away completely.

"Oh yeah," he snickered. "Tall, dark and forehead here thought that he could get into her pants by playing for it, too."

Angel cast a sneer at his roommate as Giles cleared his throat.

"Gentlemen, this really isn't an appropriate conversation to have about a young lady such as Miss Summers--"

"Oh, come off it, Rupe," Angel chided. "You weren't exactly calling her a young lady when she mopped the floor with you at Willy's."

Spike was enjoying the spirited conversation about the angelic little tiger across the room. She had them all ruffled.

"Liam, I thought we agreed never to mention that snooker massacre again?" Giles whispered hastily.

"Right, it's okay to bring up the most embarrassing moment in my life, but we can't talk about the shameful incident called 'Giles got his ass whooped by a girl'?" Angel continued.

"If you remember correctly, it was Harris who brought up the most embarrassing moment in your life," Giles reminded him. "And I wasn't hitting on the lady. And, in my own defense, I was university snooker champion back home and had no idea that she played so well."

"And after losing $500 and your watch, you now see, with perfect clarity, what a little hustler she is?" Angel grinned.

Giles rolled his eyes and mumbled a stiff shut up, Liam before returning his attention to his beer.


"So, are the stakes still the same, Buffy?" Riley asked just a little too enthusiastically.

She raked her eyes over his beefy form. No, not the same. Because it would cost him a hell of a lot more than $50 per loss to get within a five mile radius of her outside of the game room.

"Let's up the ante a little, Riley," she cooed, licking her shiny pink lips. "For every ball you sink, I'll remove an article of clothing."

His eyes widened at the prospect and at that moment, he decided to agree to any term she offered in return.

"But, for each ball I sink, it's an article of clothing for you," she began as he nodded. "And $50. Per ball."

"Riley, don't do it," Clem warned. "She beats you every time."

"Not this time," Riley grinned, offering his calloused hand to the petite blonde in front of him.

She placed her small hand in his and shook it firmly.

"Deal, Summers," he said, pumping her hand one more time.

"Okay, then. Show me the money," she smiled.

He pulled out a wad of bills from his jeans pocket and placed it on the edge of the table. Buffy quickly flipped through to make sure that a total of $450 was there. This was going to be too easy.

"You want to break?" she asked. "Or do you want me to do the honors?"

Riley quickly took the offer to break. He'd at least be able to get an upper hand. He assumed that playing a half-naked Slayer would make her a little more inhibited and she'd be more likely to mess up.

He immdiately sunk three balls and Buffy smiled widely.

"Very good, Finn," she smiled, pulling her top over her head to reveal two pert breasts encased in a thin wisp of lace. The bra left little to the imagination and Riley immediately honed in on the pebbled nipples poking through the lacy confection.

She bent down and removed her boots and socks. That was three. And removing her top, while not neccessary, was definitely going to work in her favor. She ran her hands over her hips and smiled coyly at Riley. She could already see the fruits of her efforts evident in his pants.

"Looks like I'm little ones," she said, scanning the table. "That would make you... big."

He nodded dumbly andset uphis next shot as she leaned over the pocket he was aiming for.

And he missed.

"Looks like it's my turn," she smiled, wiggling her hips as she walked over the the chalk mound to powder her hands. She pulled Mr. Pointy fromits case and assembled it, running the small cube of blue over its tip sensuously.

She sized up the table and called off her shots, one by one, until they were all sunk and Riley Finn was standing with his hands strategically placed in front of his crotch. And then she sized him up, too. Big hands, but they more than adequately covered the shrinking violet beneath. He wasn't even worth a go, she decided, retrieving the wad of bills from the table and stuffing them in her pocket.

Riley dressed hastily while Buffy took her time, sliding on her socks and boots leisurely before slipping her top back over her head. She stopped to pat him on his cheek and smiled sweetly.

"Any time you want to go again," she winked. "I'm game."


Spike had been watching the game intently from across the room, surprised when the girl had let the farm boy go first. And even more surprised when she not only counted socks and shoes as one item each, but took them off after removing her top.

"That's how she reels 'em in," Angel told his friend, when he saw his mouth hanging open.

"Yeah, works every time," Xander agreed as he tucked into another plate of the Bronze's signature 'Hellmouth' hot wings. Tears slid down his cheeks from the bite of the sauce, but he continued to stuff them into his mouth.

"That's how she got me," Angel continued. "Off with the top, pointy little nipples poking out as she leans over the pocket and it's just impossible not to miss when all you can think about is sucking on those hard, sweet little cherries."

"Hey," Xander scowled. "Best friend, here. Let's watch how we talk about the Buffster in my presence, please and thank you."

He managed to get a few more wings down before breaking down.

"She does have pretty hot tits, doesn't she?" he smirked, unable to disagree with Angel's assessment of his best friend's goods.

"Gentlemen," Giles admonished, not wanting to admit that the little blonde had been the cause of more than one chubby on his behalf as well. "Some of us are old enough to be her father."

"Ah, yes... that would be the some of us who has been trying to date her mother for the past five years," Xander pointed out.

"Xander," Giles warned. "That will be enough."

Spike continued to watch the girl as she and her friend giggled, much to Riley's chagrin. The boy was smart enough to exit the bar as quickly as he could, tail tucked between his legs. The other gamers tried to busy themselves, being careful to avert themselves from Buffy's not-so-innocent gaze.

She looked up and locked eyes with him. She was looking at him like she was trying to figure out if she knew him from somewhere. He saw her lean her head toward Willow's and nod. And then they both rose and began to cross the room.

They were coming right toward them. Spike couldn't tear his eyes away from hers. There was something magnetic about her gaze and he was helpless against her. Within moments, they were standing at the high top, Buffy leaning on her elbows between Angel and Xander.

"Angel, it's good to see you," she smiled sweetly. "Fully clothed, I might add. Care to do something about that?" she asked, nodding toward the billiards tables.

"Nope. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt," Angel quickly replied.

"Or, in your case, Dough Boy," Xander smirked. "Lost the t-shirt... and the pants and the..."

Angel silenced him with a well-timed glare.

"Giles," she greeted, turning her smile on high-beam. "Glad to see you out and about after the snooker fiasco at Willy's."

"Likewise, Buffy," he nodded, his cheeks turning crimson at the memory of his embarrassing defeat at her hands.

Her eyes finally settled on the blue ones that had been watching her since her arrival at the Bronze. She hadn't seen him there before. Fresh meat, she grinned at the thought. She felt a tingle in her spine as he stared curiously back at her. He was beautiful, she decided, her eyes skimming the sharpness of his cheekbones and the fullness of his bottom lip. She found herself wondering how he would taste as she sucked that pouty lip into her mouth. No man had ever had such an immediate impact on her. She tried to maintain composure as he narrowed his eyes on hers.

"And who is your friend?" she asked quietly, her eyes never leaving Spike's.

"Oh, that's Professor Benson," Willow offered. "He teaches my Creative Writing class."

"Yeah," Xander grinned evilly. "I believe he's the one you said couldn't write his way out of a box, isn't he Buffy?"

Buffy, try as she might, could not keep the warmth from creeping into her golden cheeks. She had said that, hadn't she? Willow had been overloaded with assignments, and Buffy wrote her creative writing piece for her. For her efforts, Willow had received a B minusand unwelcome commentary about her mediocre work.

Spike raised an eyebrow at her, but said nothing. Willow chose to ignore Xander's remark and continued on with her introductions.

"Professor, this is my friend, Buffy Summers," she told him. "Um, she , uh... she writes romance novels."

"More like soft-porn for women," Angel interjected. His colleagues stared at him. "What? I read a few chapters. I was curious. It was complete smut."

"Says the guy who hasn't had any in, what? At least a year since Cordy dumped you, isn't it now, Liam?" Buffy dug.

"Yeesh, Buff. Thought we agreed not to bring up the C word in front of A-N-G-E-L," Xander spelled out with a roll of his eyes.

"Yeah," Buffy continued, casting a sneaky look Angel's way. "She was a cunt, wasn't she?"

Angel blushed but said nothing in his ex-girlfriend's defense.

"So, Professor," she said, searching behind her for a bar stool to pull up to the table. She grabbed two and pushed one toward Willow, inviting herself to join the men. "What do you do when you're not shredding apart aspiring young writers?"

"Call me Spike, Love," he told her.

"Spike," she said slowly. "Care to challenge a girl to a game of pool?"

He smiled, not ready to be reigned in by the little hustler before him.

"Not that I don't fancy staking your arse good and proper, but I'm a bit out of practice. And I'm man enough to admit that if I challenged you now, I'd leave this room with a lighter wallet and far fewer clothes than I have on at the moment."

She smiled up at him, taken aback by his candid response. Nothing to prove, she thought. She liked that in a man.