Willow squirmed in her seat, the sound of the wall clock ticking a loud echo in her head. She could feel Professor Benson's eyes boring into her while she worked diligently on her timed writing assignment. Why, oh why, oh why had she let Buffy talk her into going to the Bronze? And why had she introduced her to Professor Benson? She used to be able to blend so easily into the sea of heads in the tiered classroom. Now, she felt like she was wearing a Lo-Jack transmitter and he was holding the tracking unit.
"Five minutes remaining," he announced. "Please wrap up your work and hand it in as you leave."
Willow quickly finished the remainder of her assignment. The task? Write about a life-altering moment. Personal experience. She hated these. She would rather be writing about Faith, the Vampire Hunter who had fallen in love with the Master Vampire, Rack. This real life stuff? Just too real and not too comfy.
She decided to go with shock value. Besides, it was a life-altering moment when she and Oz had parted ways and she discovered that her eye wandered more toward the female persuasion than to the male. She had wondered if Oz had just ruined her for any other man or if she had always secretly been more interested in the same sex.
She had yet to act on her discovery, but she had been working up the nerve to ask out Tara, a waitress at the Bronze. She just wasn't sure as to how she should go about it. Um, hi, I'm Willow and I'm gay. Wanna go out some time? It just seemed too crass. Maybe she could get Xander to do a little snooping for her where Tara was concerned. He was friendly enough with the pretty blonde.
"Miss Rosenberg? Miss Rosenberg?"
She snapped her head up and met Professor Benson's curious blue gaze.
"I'm... I'm done," she told him, blushing. "I guess I just spaced out thinking about... um, stuff."
"Quite alright, Miss Rosenberg," he smiled, taking the paper from her desk. "I always look forward to reading your assignments. You never disappoint me."
She smiled and began packing up her things.
"Well, I'm glad to hear--"
"Except for that one assignment I had to grade as a B minus," he interrupted. "Then again, you didn't write that one, did you?"
Caught.
"Um... I, uh..."
"It'll be our little secret, Miss Rosenberg," he assured her with a wink. "I imagine it was your friend, Miss Summers, who wrote that little piece of fluff, yeah?"
Willow blushed again.
"That's what I thought," he smiled. "It wasn't done in what I've come to call Willow-style. You have a promising future as a writer, Miss Rosenberg. I especially enjoy your Vampire Hunter series. It's got your action, your horror and just a touch of romance. Very well done."
Willow beamed at her professor's praise.
"Leave the smut to Miss Summers," he advised. "You excel in crafting a well-balanced tale of horror, romance and suspense, Miss Rosenberg. Do what you do best."
"I will," Willow promised. "And thank you, Professor Benson."
"Nobody's around, Pet. You can call me Spike," he told her.
"Um, thank you... Spike," she smiled.
Willow grabbed her purse and backpack and set out to leave, but stopped suddenly.
"And Spike," she said, turning toward her professor. "A word of advice between friends... don't let Buffy con you into a game of pool. They don't call her the Slayer for nothing."
"Advice heard and appreciated," he nodded, having no intention of actually taking it.
Buffy had no idea what had possessed her to show up anywhere near the campus of UC Sunnydale, let alone right in front of theLiberal Artsbuilding. She tried to tell herself that she was there to surprise Willow with a new chapter to her novel. Yes, she was bringing the latest manuscript for her friend's approval and then they could go celebrate over beers at the Bronze. That's why she was there. Only she had left the latest manuscript on her desk at home.
And why are you so late? she asked herself. And why are you still heading into her creative writing classroom when you know that the only person left in there might be one very sexy Professor Benson?
She stopped in front of the door and cursed under her breath. She shouldn't be here. She turned to leave and heard the door open in her wake.
"Miss Summers?" that unmistakably sexy British voice called after her.
She stopped and tensed up, tring desperately to compose herself. She turned to face the quizzical pair of blue eyes with a smile.
"I, uh... was hoping I'd get here before Willow left," she lied. "I guess I missed her."
He didn't say a word as he advanced toward her. He was decidedly one of the most casually dressed college professors she had ever seen. His faded Levi's fell snugly over his hips and thighs. His black, leather car coat was far more casual than Professor Giles' preferred tweed. He wore a white oxford beneath it with a deep burgundy silk tie, loosened at his unbuttoned neckline.
"Yes," he smiled when he was just inches from her. "I guess you did."
He had the feeling that she wasn't there to see her friend. He couldn't tear his eyes away from hers as he stood close enough to invade her personal space. She smelled like vanilla. The scent rippled off of her in warm waves and accosted his senses.
She had no idea why she was allowing him to render her motionless. Her eyes flitted to that sexy pout of his and about a dozen deliciously sinful thoughts flooded her mind sending a strong tingle to her core. She watched as his hand brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, but still could not will herself to move.
"Shall I walk you to your car?" he offered.
"Uh, I don't drive," she stammered. "Cars and Buffy... very unmixy things."
"How about motorcycles?" he asked, the warmth from his hand still lingering on her skin.
"Um, I..."
"Because I'd feel much better knowing that you're not walking home alone," he told her. "Never know what kind of nasties are out there, Love."
"Are you offering me a ride?" she asked, her eyebrow arched.
Oh yeah, little girl. I'm offering you a ride.
"I've got an extra helmet," he told her, taking her elbow and leading her toward the parking garage. "I'm sure Miss Rosenberg would be relieved to know that you were escorted home safely."
She nodded and allowed him to lead her to his bike. He handed her a helmet and asked her for her address.
"Um, 1630 Revello Drive," she told him before tucking her hair under the helmet.
She slid behind him on the bike and placed her hands on either side of his waist, almost afraid to touch him. Within minutes of leaving the parking garage, she had tightened her grip around him to vise-like proportions, her breasts smashed against his back.
"Not afraid of a little motorcycle ride, are you Love?" he yelled back to her.
She squeezed his ribs with her strong arms in response. Her hands were clasped at his belt buckle as she tried her damndest not to slip them any lower. She didn't understand what it was about this man that was making her want to behave like one of the wanton harlots in her novels.
"Relax, Pet." he told her. "I've been drivingmotorcycles for the better part of 20 years. Haven't lost a passenger yet."
He turned onto Revello Drive and slowed to read the numbers on the houses. He heard her say right there when they reached the white craftsman near the end of the road. He stopped the bike and cut the engine, taking care to prop it up on its kick stand before helping the shaken young woman off the back.
"Don't tell me that was your first motorcycle ride?" he asked as she handed him the helmet with shaking hands.
She nodded numbly. His lips curved into a warm smile. The unshakable Slayer was clearly shaken. And he thought it was absolutely darling. She glanced up at the darkened house remembering that her mother was at a gala for her art gallery and that Dawn was spending the night with Janice.
"So," he smiled, noticing her nervousness as she glanced between him and the house. She hadn't taken a single step in the direction of her door.
"So," she echoed quietly, her eyes wide. "I... I should probably go call Will. I, uh... finished another chapter in my novel. That's... that's why I was waiting for her. To tell her about the chapter. Because I'd had a bitch of a time eking that one out. And I wanted to let her know that I had. You know... eked it out."
She was rambling. She knew she was rambling. But she didn't want him to leave. And she didn't want to seem forward by inviting him in.
He took a step toward her and softly brushed his knuckles over her cheek. She could feel her heart pounding, just like Amanda, she thought, just before the first time Ethan kissed her. But this wasn't one of her novels. This was Willow's professor. Willow's very hot, extremely lickable professor. And he was making her think very lusty thoughts.
He narrowed his eyes on hers before bringing his lips down to hers. He barely brushed them as he whispered "Invite me in, Love."
Her hands had moved up to rest on his chest. What the Hell was she doing? She barely knew this man. Her eyes rolled shut as she felt his tongue trace a slow line over her bottom lip. When she gasped, he took the opportunity to slide his warm, velvety tongue into her mouth just enough to taste her. She tasted as sweet as she smelled, like melted vanilla ice cream dripping onto his tongue. He slowly pulled away from her, surprised at her reluctance to break the kiss. Her eyes were still closed when he looked down at her smiling face.
"Then again," he said, his voice silky. "Inviting me in may be a bad idea."
She slowly opened her eyes, allowing his face to come back into focus as if she was waking from a dream. A very bad idea, she silently agreed with a small nod.
"Next time you want to see me," he told her. "Don't feel that you have to use Miss Rosenberg as an excuse."
She tilted her head and bit down on her lip. He knew. Saw right through her, he did.
"Let me see you to the door, and then I'll be off," he told her, taking her arm again and leading her up her walkway.
She fumbled with her keys for a moment before managing to open the lock.
"Thank you," she said, her voice cracking just a bit.
"The pleasure was mine, Love," he assured her, pressing his lips to her forehead before turning to leave.
She watched from her doorway as he started his bike. He looked up to see her standing there, a curious expression etched on her features. He waved to her as he turned the bike back onto the roadway. He was already half-way down Revello Drive when she raised her hand to slowly wave back.
