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Changing Hearts Series - Invitation -- by Ruby
Rating: PG-13
Description: Willow offers Spike an invitation, sequel to Restless.
Note: Spoilers -- Wild at Heart, The Initiative.
Disclaimer: Joss owns all.
Buffy and Willow strolled casually about the flea market that had been set up on the campus. The sun had set almost a half hour ago, and the tables and booths spread out over the lawn were now illuminated by tacky plastic lanterns strung between lamp posts, which emitted their own, brighter glow.
"Can you believe anyone would actually buy this junk?" Willow asked as she lifted a soiled sneaker off one of the many tables. "I mean, why would anyone possibly want this?"
"Some of it's pretty nice," Buffy replied, holding up an antique silver hand mirror, then gasped as she saw the $75 price tag and quickly replaced it. "If a little pricey. Anyway, it's for a good cause."
"That's true," Willow agreed. "And it's a good excuse to avoid studying."
"As if you need one. The last time I looked, you'd finished the last chapter of your psych book and were getting ready to start on the index."
"Very funny," Willow grinned. Out of the corner of her eye, the slayer caught a quick flash of peroxide blonde hair as the redhead knelt down to rummage through a box of musty books.
"I promised to meet Riley over by the rec hall," Buffy suddenly stated. "Will you be okay if I--"
"Sure," Willow shrugged, raising herself back up. "Go ahead."
"Thanks," Buffy gave her arm a light squeeze and turned quickly to weave her way around the tables and across the lawn. From the next table over, two women began to squabble noisily over a nondescript piece of gaudy, pink bric-a-brac.
"Just one more reason I'm bloody glad I'm not human," Spike's dry comment drifted over her shoulder.
Willow turned around, a bright smile gracing her lips, "Oh, come on. You wouldn't kill to get your hands on that--that--thing?"
He chuckled and turned at her side to glance over the items on the table beside them, "Finding anything valuable, pet?"
"I'm telling myself I'm just not looking hard enough," she answered.
He picked up a little dog with its tan velvet worn in several spots and a head that was meant to bobble from a car's dashboard, "How about this, then?"
She giggled and took it out of his hand to return it to its place on the table, "What I'd really like is something to drink, preferably someplace where there are no mildly neurotic bargain hunters."
He nodded and folded his hand around hers.
Willow scowled as the waitress in the coffee shop licked her lips and glued her eyes on the handsome blonde vampire.
"What can I get for you, hon?" she asked sweetly.
"Would you believe--coffee?" Spike arched an eyebrow.
"We've got Columbian, espresso, House Bl--"
"Just bring us two bloody coffees," he ordered.
"Sure thing," she smiled, completely unfazed, and let her eyes drift over his body. "Anything else you see that you'd like?"
"Coffees--two," he repeated slowly, as if speaking to a child.
She gave him a quick wink and trotted off. "She wants a good smack," Willow grumbled, watching the waitress swaying sexily away. Spike looked at her and grinned, and she blushed and lowered her eyes to the table.
"So, how did you know where to find me tonight?" she asked, trying desperately to change the topic.
"I like to keep an eye on you, pet," he shrugged. Her surprised eyes returned to him, and she asked softly, "You do? You don't have to--"
"I know," he smiled. "But it's become my favorite hobby."
Her cheeks reddened again, but she continued to hold his gaze. "That okay with you?" he asked.
"Yeah," she nodded. "I've never been a--a--hobby before."
"It's about time you were, then," he decided and slid his hand over the one she had rested on the table. The waitress returned and set the cups of coffee in front of them.
"Can I get you anything else?" she asked Spike hopefully, completely ignoring the redhead across from him. "We've got pastries, or--"
"Go. Away." Spike answered, his eyes still on Willow as he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it softly.
The woman shot a quick glare at his companion, turned abruptly, and strutted away. "That got her," he chuckled.
"That was mean," Willow told him, slowly pulling her hand back down to the table.
"Like hell," he laughed softly, his hand chasing hers to gently reclaim it. "You loved it. Admit it."
She grinned, but didn't answer. He watched her as she raised her cup to her lips and took a careful swallow. He could almost see the wheels in her head as they began to turn. A question formed on her lips, but she silenced it, and he waited patiently for her to gather her courage.
"Spike?" she finally said as she stared down into her coffee. "Can I ask you a favor?"
"Anything, luv."
"I wondered if--" she stopped and shook her head. "I mean, there's this, um, winter dance coming up in a couple of week. The Student Union is hosting it in the rec hall, and I thought maybe, well, I know we've only ever danced that one time at the Bronze, but--"
"Okay," he nodded.
"It isn't a big deal, nothing formal or anything like that--" she looked up at him as his simple response sunk in, "O-okay?"
"Okay," he repeated.
"Buffy and Riley are going to be there, but I told them I wasn't because I hadn't planned on it, and it's a big room, so if we're careful, we can probably avoid--"
"Okay, Willow," he grinned.
"You said that already, didn't you?" she smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."
He chuckled and squeezed her hand, "Drink your coffee, luv, before you choke on your words."
The End
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