Spike spent that night preparing. "Oh bloody hell. Clem, just pick the one you like best. I feel like a bloody wanker." Obviously, Spike was sick of trying on tuxedoes. Clem pointed out his favorite, Spike paid for it, and they left the 24-hour tuxedo store.
"So," Clem said slyly, "where are you taking her?"
"That little French place just out of town. Now enough with your stupid questions. We need a limo."
A/N: I know, I know. "These are all so short!" I told you, don't worry. Not the next chapter, but the one after that is longer.