Blocker
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Chapter Seven
When he got back, she was blow-drying her hair and had one of those hot roller things set up and waiting to go. Her friends must have offered assistance again because those things hadn't been among the items they'd unpacked.
He felt good knowing that she had people willing to help her out, look after her; people who cared about her. He hadn't known anything about her, outside of her relationship with Willow; it was good to know that she had decent friends besides the self-righteous do-gooder lot that she'd walked away from.
She pointed to the bed with the nozzle of the blow dryer and said loudly over the noise, "Jason loaned you some clothes - so that you don't have to go back to the crypt. We forgot to bring clothes this morning."
What she meant, and he knew it, was that his normal casual black attire would be inappropriate for a decent restaurant. Jason was Claire's boyfriend - and Claire knew where they were going - so she'd arranged for him to have the appropriate clothes. He'd hate to have Claire for an enemy if she was this efficient in all aspects of her life.
With Tara covering her eyes with both hands, he dressed in the black dress pants and medium grey shirt with a silver-on-grey tie. He put on the socks but the shoes didn't fit.
"You should-" Tara started but Spike finished, "Go find Claire, I know. She'll be my Princess Charming and find me a shoe that fits."
He went, leaving Tara as she started rolling her now dry hair into big curling roller things. How did women stand that stuff?
"And don't come back. I'll come find you when I'm done," she shouted as the door closed behind him.
She rolled all of her hair in the hot rollers and then went looking for something to wear. It wasn't like this was a real date, but it kind of felt like it was. Spike was definitely attentive and kind and, if he didn't live in a crypt and have a death certificate, he'd be perfect boyfriend material.
What was she thinking?! She was not looking for a boyfriend! Or girlfriend - or anything except just a friend. And he had definitely been that.
She hadn't had a boyfriend since high school, and that had not been a pleasant experience - which is why she had stuck with girls since then. Maybe if Ben had been more like Spike, she'd have dated an occasional boy before now.
Before now?
THIS ISN'T A DATE!
Then why couldn't she stop thinking about how wonderful Spike had looked all dressed up? Or rumpled and sleepy? Or shirtless and barefoot in just his jeans…
Enough of this! Date or not, she was going out to a nice place and had to get ready.
She looked through her closet and decided on a short, black velvet dress with a burgundy velvet insert under the laced up bodice. The bell sleeves were impractical for eating, but it was the only thing she'd brought that would be suitable for the occasion. And it wasn't overtly sexy, it didn't show anything even remotely indecent, but it did look good on her. She got out her black heels and put them on her new bed while she dressed.
She was glad she had gone into the bathroom at Buffy's house to get her toothbrush before she left because her makeup bag had been in there and she'd grabbed it without really thinking about it. She applied the makeup, taking more care than she cared to think about, and then let her hair down.
Claire had said 'fancy restaurant' but she hadn't named the place. As she ran her fingers through her hair to separate the curls, Tara decided that it had to be Wilder's, because that was the only fancy place in Sunnydale. And it must be expensive because they never seemed busy but they'd been in business since the twenties, according to the brass plaque next to the front door. If they didn't have high prices, how else could they stay in business? Maybe it was a mob front. Did they have mob fronts in Sunnydale? Demon mobs, maybe?
But even if it was some kind of a front, it was probably still expensive. She had thought about cancelling dinner; Spike had spent far too much on her today as it was. But what she had seen of Spike - and from what the gang had told her about Spike while he was in a wheelchair - she knew that his pride was very important to him. Cancelling would wound him in ways she wouldn't ever want to inflict on him.
Besides, she was looking forward to this. It was a new day, a new Tara. Wallowing in the past, she had learned from experience, never did anyone any good, least of all her. 'Always look toward tomorrow', that was her motto. Hadn't that been what had gotten her through her mother's death and helped her endure until she could get away from her family? The past was best left in the past.
When her hair had settled around her shoulders to her satisfaction, she refreshed her lip gloss and stood. Time to get this show on the road.
Spike heard her heartbeat before he saw her. It sounded… funny. Was she nervous? Was she sick? Was she going to cancel on him? Had he been looking forward to this more than he should?
It wasn't like she was interested in him - or he in her. Was he? No, definitely not. She was into girls; he was done wanting women who could never want him back. This was NOT a date.
That's what he believed until she turned the corner.
Wow.
Fucking wow.
If this wasn't a date, he was Julius Caesar.
No bird dressed like that for just a friend.
When more than just his vision registered in his brain, he heard hoots and whistles and applause from the crowd he'd been sitting with watching telly. He agreed whole-heartedly. Or he would have, if his heart had worked.
Prouder than he'd ever been to be escorting a beautiful lady, he stepped up and offered his arm and she took it with a shy smile.
Spike had worried in the car on the way over about what they would do now that everything between them seemed to have changed.
Now he was worried because nothing seemed to be different at all. They teased playfully in the car on the way over about which radio station to listen to, just like they had last night.
While they waited for dinner, they talked about Claire taking over the redecorating of Tara's formerly dismal room. They talked about the dark, romantic atmosphere in the restaurant and how many illicit trysts might have taken place there in the almost eighty years it had been around. Spike liked the dark wood wainscoting on the walls and Tara laughed and asked how he knew about wainscoting. He told her about making a decorator into a minion once for Drusilla and she laughed again and he thought her laugh lit up the candlelit room.
As they ate, they talked about history and poetry and witchcraft. Everything was still easy and fun and there was no hesitancy or tension. It wasn't like being on a date at all. There was definitely chemistry here, but it was more of the friendly variety than the sexual kind. That was the vibe Tara was giving off, anyway. Maybe he'd misread the dress?
And the makeup.
And the fuck-me pumps.
And the hair.
He must be really desperate if he thought a lesbian was coming on to him just because she looked good. Look at her. When had she ever looked bad? She was bloody gorgeous.
Didn't mean a thing that she had polished herself up for a night out with a friend at a nice restaurant.
As they waited for the dessert to go that Spike had insisted they get, since they were too full to eat another bite right now, they discussed a movie they both wanted to see that was playing at the Sun Cinema and made a date to go see it together on Friday night.
Not a date.
They laughed over a joke Tara had heard in class that day on the way back to the dorm. They held hands as they walked up to the second floor and Jason called Spike into his room to change when they went down the hall toward Tara's room.
"Claire washed your clothes while you were gone," he informed Spike. "They're in here." Spike handed Tara the bag with the desserts to put in the mini-fridge in her room. Tara went on and Jason called after her, "Come to Patsy's room when you're done. We've got a couple of bottles of wine and we're listening to her brother's band's new CD."
She promised she would return and went to her room to change. She'd been gone from the dorm for over a year but it was as if she'd never left. And none of them asked about Willow, for which she was thankful, since there was really nothing she could say that they would believe. They didn't even seem to notice that Willow was gone; they'd just accepted Spike and moved on.
She hung up her dress and put the shoes back in the shoebox in the bottom of her closet. She slipped into a clean pair of faded blue jeans and a rust-coloured Henley. After deciding that her slippers would be more comfortable than her sneakers after the torture of the heels, she slipped on the pink satin ballerina flats and headed down to Patsy's room.
Spike was already there, laughing at something with the rest of them - he fit right in. Which was probably a new experience for him: feeling like he belonged. The Goddess knew the Scoobies had never done anything to make him feel like part of the crowd, even when he was patrolling for them or with them all last summer. And she knew the demon crowd had ostracized him when he'd started helping the slayer.
Spike, relaxed and comfortable in a crowd of people. It was a good look on him. He didn't look tense or edgy for the first time since she'd met him. Why hadn't Willow and the others done this for him? She was just as guilty as they were. She'd never spoken up for him in the past, even when she saw that he was being treated unfairly. She was always too nervous of saying the wrong thing to Willow. You shouldn't be that nervous with someone you're meant to spend your life with.
Just showed another reason why she'd made the right decision when she left.
Claire saw her then and pulled her into a conversation about how cute Patsy's brother was and Tara had to agree. He was cute. Not her type, personally - big, athletic types always intimidated her, but he was cute in an abstract, from-a-distance way. Ben, her high school boyfriend, had been on the swim team and had more of a swimmer's build. Trim with small hips but nice shoulders. The girls all agreed that that was an attractive type too, several of them giving sidelong glances in Spike's direction.
Patsy poured the wine and made everyone sit as she started the CD. The band was good - very good. Tara had heard them before, but Spike hadn't and he was impressed. A classic rock style with just a hint of metal and techno. It seemed there was a band they both liked after all.
Patsy kept skipping around among the songs, explaining the story behind each one, and it was interesting to hear how the entire CD had come about because of two band members having girlfriends that dumped them on the same day.
Before they knew it, it was after two AM and a couple of people were yawning and saying they had early classes, so the party broke up.
Tara led Spike back to her room with just one word. "Stay."
She didn't want to lose his company yet. His presence relaxed her. She still didn't feel comfortable enough to be by herself, so while she changed into her nightgown in the bathroom, he made a bed out of the floor pillows and got the extra blanket out of the closet. When Tara came back, they said goodnight and Tara turned out the light.
They both lay awake for a short time thinking that they were both adults and the bed was a double. One of them should have suggested that they both sleep in the bed.
So why hadn't they?
In the darkness, Tara spoke.
"You need to find someone who can see you, who can see you for who you really are. See past the fangs and the reputation to the good heart below the leather."
"Same for you," Spike said. "Next time find someone who wants you for you, not to make you into a doormat."
She thought about that. What should she be looking for? And what should he? She relaxed into the pillow and asked, "So, what are we looking for in a significant other?"
She seemed to want to talk, so he turned onto his back and gazed at the ceiling, thinking. If she wanted to talk, he'd talk. It was amazing how comfortable and safe even a creature of the night could feel in the anonymity of darkness.
"Trust," she said when he couldn't come up with anything.
"Respect," he added.
"Consideration."
"Friendship."
"Warmth," she said. "Of the spirit, if not necessarily the body," she added and he smiled in the darkness at her thoughtfulness.
"Physical warmth is good too," Spike told her.
"Someone you can be yourself with, your whole self," she said.
"Someone you can talk to…"
"Tell anything to…"
The room got quiet and they spent several minutes listening to the stillness before she said, "Honesty."
"Wasn't that covered under 'trust'?" he asked.
"Not necessarily," she answered, thinking of Willow's omission of the details behind Spike's kidnapping of her and Xander.
"Someone not afraid of commitment," Spike continued.
"Devotion."
"Attraction," Spike said, watching her lips as she spoke, even though she couldn't see him in the dark.
"Someone who makes you feel safe, protected."
I could do that for you, he thought but said, "Desire."
"Desire's always a must," she answered in a whisper and then they fell silent until they both fell asleep.
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