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Chapter 21

Saturday, June 22, continued…

Kara languished the day away, relishing having nothing to do. She'd slept in, made herself an overly sugary breakfast, then lounged out on the deck, reading a book. As it got closer to her date time, she took her time getting ready, starting with a bubble bath in Spike's favorite scent on her. She picked through her closet, finally finding the right dress, and laid it on the bed. Kara did her hair and make-up, and found she still had time before needing to get dressed, so she went down to the kitchen in her robe and sliced an apple into thin bites as a snack. She felt pretty sure that Spike would take her somewhere to eat, but he hadn't specified.

Kara had chosen a slinky black halter dress. The skirt flared slightly, making the dress ideal for dancing. She slipped her feet into a pair of red high-heeled sandals, then went looking for the right jewelry. Her choice came in the form of a silver length of chain with a spray of garnets at the end. She draped it around her neck and slipped the jeweled end through the loop at the other. The garnets ended up resting just at the 'v' of her cleavage. Matching silver earrings completed the look. Kara examined herself in the full-length mirror, just to make sure she wasn't missing something.

Her lips quirked at her image. "Not bad for a pregnant lady," she mused. She was determined to keep a positive outlook tonight. She glanced at the slender watch on her wrist and hurried to grab her clutch purse and head downstairs.

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Spike would never admit it, but he was nervous about tonight. He was taking it on faith that the roses had been well received, and Kara would be dressed and waiting for him when he arrived. He wanted to hope that she wouldn't be upset anymore. She usually couldn't maintain a fit of temper for more than two or three days. It wasn't in Kara's nature to hold a grudge.

He turned up the volume on the Sex Pistols, blowing smoke from his cigarette out the open window as he cruised down the highway. Tonight was the start to a plan that he really didn't want to blow up in his face.

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At five to 7, Kara started pacing near the door. They hadn't gone on a date in quite a while, and she was really excited. She jumped when the doorbell rang, smoothed her dress, took a calming breath, and opened the door.

"Hi," she said softly.

"You look good enough to eat, kitten," he purred, raking his eyes over her curves.

"Stop it," she giggled.

Spike pulled her close, dipping his head to her neck to inhale her perfume. "Can't help it, luv. If we didn't have reservations, I'd be taking you up against this wall." His voice near her ear made her shiver, and he smiled proudly. "Shall we go?"

"Uh huh."

Spike took her hand as soon as she'd locked the door and led her to the Desoto.

"It's all shiny!"

"Yes, I know my baby needed a bath. She couldn't have you completely showin' her up."

"I knew you loved this car the most," she deadpanned.

"What's not to love?" he bantered back.

This was good, really good. They were teasing each other like normal, and Spike seemed to be in a really good mood. And mercy, does he look fine! He was wearing a black silk shirt with the collar unbuttoned, and black pants. She could see his typical silver chain peeking out from under the shirt as he moved. The protection charm must still be on it, since the sun wasn't down, yet. The rosy tones of the summer sunset were casting a warm glow on his pale skin. He glanced over to her with a smirk, having noticed her long perusal.

"See something you like, pet?"

"Maybe," she coyly replied. "So, where are you taking me?"

"You'll see."

Kara pouted, and he laughed, and squeezed her hand before setting his back on the steering wheel.

Spike had chatted her up along the way, asking about her week. Kara told him about hanging out with her sister, and Peter's graduation. She mentioned that she had a good feeling about the university, as she was familiar with it, knowing several people that had gone there. He said that he'd had hot chocolate with Joyce, and that she said 'hi', leaving out the very private conversation they had shared. Kara knew he had probably confided with Joyce, but he didn't have anyone else he was that close to, so she didn't begrudge her friend knowing their life from both sides.

She hadn't known how much time had flown by until they pulled up in front of a restaurant. The valet opened Kara's door for her, then went to accept the keys from Spike.

"Scratch it, and I take it out of your hide," he told the young man.

The valet gulped, and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Did you threaten the valet again?" Kara asked as he took her hand.

"Have to get my kicks somewhere," he said, shrugging. She shook her head, but smiled at him anyway. They walked up to the host.

"Reservation under…?"

"William."

"Ah, yes, 7:30. Right this way, please."

The restaurant had obviously been around for a while, sporting an Art Deco décor. They were led to a booth on one side of the dance floor, where a live band was playing.

"Your waiter will be with you shortly."

Kara was glad she had chosen a dress in silk, at least. This was the kind of place where the prices weren't on the ladies' menu, which meant expensive, and the place was packed, which meant that reservations were not easy to come by. She glanced curiously at Spike, wondering what she had done to receive such special attention.

"How did you hear about this place?" she asked instead.

"Came here, once, when it was all the rage. I remembered it this week, and lucky us, they were still in business."

"I thought the décor looked original. Did you find the '20s fun?"

"Fairly so. The world had opened up to faster travel, and humans had grown so decadent. It was the first decade of real rebellion against the institution. Young girls were no longer taking their parents' plans as gospel, the Jazz Movement flourished, and every American wanted the drink they were forbidden to have. Anyone looking at the rise of the credit system could see it was heading for a big bloody implosion. It was only a matter of time."

"And Giles says you're not smart. Did you spend much time here?"

"Nah, we spent most of our time in Europe until the '60s. Dru just had to come see the 'flower people'. Woodstock was a trip."

"That was bad, even for you," she teased. "Think I'll eventually get every story out of you?"

"There're things I'm sure you wouldn't want to hear about, pet."

"I don't need the gory details. I just like hearing the stories – where you've been, the people you've seen, history you've lived through. Not that blood turns my stomach. I've seen some pretty gross movies with my former. I know how you used to live. You won't shock me into leaving," Kara responded with conviction. The gratitude in his eyes said she'd spoken the right thing.

"Good to know," he said softly.

The waiter came and took their orders, starting with Kara. She requested the filet mignon with lobster tail. Spike ordered the prime rib, bloody rare, and a glass of merlot.

"Merlot?" Kara asked, once the waiter had gone.

"What, can't I have a fine wine with a nice meal?"

"You can, I just didn't expect you to ask for it by name and year. I forget sometimes that my bad-boy used to be a gentleman."

"Yours, eh?"

"Mmm-hmm."

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They'd been eating for a while, when Kara asked another question.

"There's one thing I've wondered that you've never answered for me."

"What's that, luv?"

"How you came to be turned? I've gathered that you don't like to talk about that time in your life, but I've been wondering about it since that talk on the balcony at The Bronze. Will you tell me?"

He sighed, and took a long swallow of the wine, before answering. "I've already told you I was a ponce, a soft git pretty much useless for anything. There was a girl, Cecily Adams, that I imagined myself madly in love with. I'd see her at these society parties, and she was polite, but hardly spoke to me. I figured she was shy.

Anyway, I'd write these stupid poems about her, pure drivel, and the others knew it and mocked me for it. That night, I was at another one of those blasted parties, and one of my 'friends' ripped the sheet of paper right out of my hand and read it to all and sundry. They laughed, of course, and Cecily fled the room. I followed her, and tried to plead my case. She asked if my poems were about her. I said 'Every one of them', and proceeded to lay my heart out to her, expressing my devotion. She said that she could never be with me, and, I quote, "You're beneath me."

I ran out of the house into the streets, ripping the poem to shreds and swearing to never write another word of it again. Dru found me crying my eyes out in a stable. She offered to make me more, and how could I refuse? She was beautiful, dark, mysterious…I'd never met a woman like her, and she seemed to see into my very soul. She drained me there, and the next thing I knew upon waking was that I felt more alive than I could ever remember before. She took my hand once I'd dug myself out, and showed me a whole new world. I looked upon her as my salvation from the pathetic life I'd been."

"Did you stay in London?"

"For a while. We left the city after I killed those I could find from the party that night. Every one of them that had made my life hell for years."

"Did it make you feel better?" Her tone was curious, with no accusation.

"There's…satisfaction, even joy in causing them pain…but,"

"It doesn't take the pain away?"

"Yeah. Just ask old Liam if he still has father issues. The Watchers tell their Slayers that nothing of the person who was before remains when the demon takes over, that it's just accessing the memories left in that brain to better assimilate into human society and prey on them. Load of bollocks, if you ask me. Losing your soul doesn't take away your emotions. Just some of us retain a bit more humanity than others."

"You're the first vampire I got to know, so I guess I'm a bit biased. Thank you for telling me, Spike. I want you to be able to trust me with the painful things."

He caressed her cheek and she leaned into his hand. "Do you trust me with yours?" he asked softly.

"Yes. You know practically everything about me. Anything I'd tell a guy, anyways."

"Don't do that," he whispered.

"What?"

"Pass it off with a joke to hide being vulnerable. I know you still hide some things. You still block off parts of your mind," he said, leaning forward and tapping her temple with his finger.

"How do you know it's not just the claim not being strong enough?"

"Vampire, sweetheart. I can tell," he replied, tapping her nose. "Would you like some dessert?"

Kara blinked at the sudden topic change. "Uh, sure…I still have room." She was confused. Spike never just dropped a subject, well, as long as it was about someone else. But there he was, summoning the waiter to their table.

"Some dessert for the two of you?"

"What are the choices?" Kara asked.

"We have crepes with custard and strawberries, a chocolate soufflé, or an assortment of homemade pastries."

"The chocolate," they answered in unison.

The waiter smiled. "Very good. I'll be back shortly."

"It's a good thing you're not human, baby, or that sweet tooth of yours would be packing on the pounds," Kara teased.

"Like you're any better?"

"Yep. Food actually makes me feel full, so I know when to stop. Which is usually one scoop of ice cream less than you."

"Want to dance, kitten? It'll take them a little bit to make the desserts."

"Love to."

Spike took her hand as Kara slid out of the booth. They walked gracefully to the dance floor, Spike spinning her into his embrace once they stopped and joined the other couples. They soon gathered an audience of eyes, the ease and familiarity obvious in the way they moved together. The band smoothly transitioned from a fast waltz to a salsa, wanting to test the expertise of the latest couple on the floor. Kara found even in this, she could anticipate his movements and match him on every turn. It didn't hurt that he'd started a game of winding each other up with outwardly innocent touches. By the time he dipped her on the last beat, and drew her body slowly back up, she was breathy and lust-addled. Kara's eyes flashed silver for a second when they met his, startling a few diners, though they thought it must be a trick of the light.

"Careful, luv. Can't let your true face show in public, remember?" he whispered in her ear, now that they were back to a slow song.

"Not my fault. Someone was pushing all my buttons," she murmured in return.

"Not all your buttons, but that will come later."

She almost caught the little whimper before it escaped her throat, but he heard it, anyway.

"Come on, kitten. Our dessert is at the table."

Fluffy soufflés waited for each of them in ramekin cups, topped with three fresh raspberries and a sprig of mint. Kara nearly moaned upon the first bite. The flavor burst in her mouth, yet the texture was so light, it just melted away, leaving you ready for the next bite. Spike spooned his raspberries onto hers, then dug into his own chocolate.

"You don't like raspberries?"

"They're alright. I prefer blackberries."

"I've thought about planting blackberries at home, but the thorns are a big deterrent. You're welcome to plant some, if you don't mind maintaining them."

"Somethin' to do while you're asleep, eh?"

"It's a better hobby than talking to yourself outside in the middle of the night. My neighbors are starting to get curious about 'the crazy blonde man'."

"Yeah, yeah. You're not funny, you know. Tell the nosy bints to piss off and mind their own business," he said plainly.

"I'm not going to tell them that! And they wouldn't be watching you all the time if you wore a shirt out there more often."

"Now, why should I deprive some poor, harmless, old biddy of probably her only glimpse of a good lookin' bloke anymore?"

"I give up. Your ego is invincible," she sighed in mock resignation.

"This is fun, he added, grinning. Yeah, it really was. When was the last time they'd been just playful and teasing around each other? Kara once more felt guilty for making him walk on eggshells around her.

Finished with her dessert, Kara leaned towards his ear, and whispered, "Take me home, William."

"Right. Oi! Check, please."

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There were kisses when they got in the car, kisses at every stoplight, promising caresses stoking each other to burning on the freeway, and a frenzied kiss in the driveway before they made it into the house. Kara blindly got her key in the lock and opened the door, disarming the security system without removing her lips from his. Spike pressed her up against the door, leaving a trail of nips and kisses down her throat that had her panting with need.

"Make love to me, Spike. I need you, so much!" she gasped. She immediately found herself hoisted up to wrap her legs around his waist as he headed for the staircase. Kara had his shirt unbuttoned by the time they reached her bedroom and was fumbling with his belt as he dumped her on the bed.

Spike stepped back long enough to kick off his shoes and shed the rest of his clothes, then stood there, gazing at the goddess before him. Lying on the bed, her hair was splayed out behind her, and the low neckline of the dress was barely restraining her full breasts. She looked thoroughly kissed, and he was going to enjoy making the rest of her body flush with passion.

"Spiiiiike! You're too far away," she pouted. That lip was his downfall, and he dove to catch it, supporting his weight on his arms to not land on her. He kissed her until her eyes were glazed with the heady feeling.

Spike brush the hair away from her face and gazed down at her in tender adoration. "Are you mine, Kara?"

"Yes," she answered without hesitation.

"Is that what you want to be?"

"Yes, Spike. Absolutely."

"How long?"

"As long as you want me. Please…"

"Please what, luv?"

"Make love to me. I need you inside me. I feel like I'm going to burst-"

"Shhh, kitten. I've got you. You know I'll take care of you. Sit up so we can get this dress off," he replied, moving off of her. The dress was whipped off over her head and tossed somewhere. Kara's bra was the next thing to go. Spike gently pushed her back and started kissing down her body, paying extra attention to her sensitive curves.

He teased her with little bites around the straps of her panties, driving her insane before finally sliding them off. He gave one lick to her aching center before crawling up her body.

"Uh, shoes?"

"Leave em on. They're hot."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. Ready, baby?" he asked while teasing her with his length.

Kara wrapped her legs around his hips, ready to give him a push. "I've been ready. Stop teasing me!"

He surged all the way in on one stroke and started a pace. "Demanding chit, aren't you?"

"Would you rather I didn't want you? Oh, god, that feels good," she moaned. He growled at her question and started hitting her faster and deeper. "Mmm, Spike, more!"

"Do you want my fangs in you as you come? Will you scream for me?" he demanded in time with his thrusts.

"Yes! Oh, YES!" Kara could only see stars as his teeth struck her neck. He didn't pull any blood, just laved at the wound until he felt her stop pulsing around him. Spike lovingly closed the wounds, then rolled them to their sides to rest.