The Grandest Lady (Spike/Willow)
Title:The Grandest Lady
Characters/Pairing: Spike/Willow
Rating: PG
W/C: ~1100
Summary: Spike’s a little surprised to bump into his kind-of friend Red this weekend.
A/N: I generally don’t write het, so I’m making this just kind of flirty. Hopefully it will not suck. Written for the nekid numbers challenge at nekid_spike.
It was fifteen minutes to midnight when Spike ran into Willow walking alone toward Buffy’s house. Not wanting to startle her, he moved steadily from his hiding spot and just stood on the sidewalk, waiting as Willow kept walking toward him.
In all the years they’d known each other, he’d never seen Red look quite like this. She was dressed in a pastel colored dress, complete with accessories. High heeled shoes, pantyhose, earrings, even a matching purse. And a - Dear God, honestly? A hat. A fancy kind of hat.
When she finally got close enough to talk, of course, she did, right away. “Spike. Seriously? What the - what are you doing out here? Is there something wrong?” He didn’t visit Sunnydale often these days.
Trying to soothe away the panic in her voice, he chuckled in a casual way.
“Nothing bad, Red, swear on Cecily’s grave. I was just out for a walk, maybe looking for something to fight or kill while I’m in town, you know, how I do sometimes…” By the time he realized he was babbling, Spike was already attempting to make up for it. “You look…um, nice, Willow. Very nice.”
To her surprise, Willow graciously accepted the compliment and decided she’d try to get a few moments alone in conversation with Spike.
“You like the dress?” she asked, hesitatingly.
“Just don’t think I’ve ever seen you all done up like that, is all. More than a little different than your usual clothing, wouldn’t you say?”
Blushing, Willow replied, “I’ve just come from the Easter vigil Mass with Dawn and Buffy. They’re already home, I decided to walk.”
“But you’re Jewish. Why would you attend that kind of service?” Spike was genuinely confused at this point.
Willow was more than happy to explain. “It’s just a nice thing to do, sharing in something that your friends enjoy. Anyway, I’m not Jewish. I mean, I am, I guess, but I’m wiccan now, you know that.”
“’Course, pet,” Spike replied, easy as you please. “It’s just…I wouldn’t think the Easter vigil Mass is the type of thing a wiccan or a Jew would participate in. Bit out of the ordinary.”
“Yeah, I guess”, was her reply, “but there are fun and interesting, even enlightening things about other people’s religious faith that a person can appreciate and learn from.”
“I suppose you’re right about that. Some things I remember, you know”, he said, leaning against a fence and lighting a cigarette. Tracking the girl’s eyes was easy for him. He saw so much there - apprehension, satisfaction, happiness, dread. And that one other thing he’d never seen before. Acting on it before really thinking it over, he lit a second Marlboro and handed it to the girl.
Willow took the cigarette gratefully and stood in silence as her deep inhales showed it wasn’t the first smoke she’d ever had.
“What is it exactly? Those things you remember?”
“Oh, you know, the usual, Easter dinner, being out of school for two weeks, going to church with my mum. There were always so many…”
There was no way Willow was giving Spike a chance to weasel out of this one. “So many what?”
“Bonnets. Easter bonnets, love, like the one you’ve got on, decorated with ribbons and flowers.”
Taking another drag from her smoke, Willow replied, “So you like the hat too? I thought it was silly but everyone else was doing it so I figured I’d join in. Figured wearing this kind of thing would help me to blend. I always think, when people look at me, in their head they’re calling me a witch or a Jew or a weirdo, though sometimes it’s hard to know which one they think is worse.”
“Red, stop all that. Whichever you are, any of those things or all of them, I think you’re brilliant. And the bonnet suits you. Maybe you should think of wearing hats more often”, he said. He was just stating his observations, but he knew it sounded flirty. Maybe he was doing it on purpose. The picture of the girl casually dragging on a cigarette in her Sunday best was…well, he didn’t know what, really, but it was something he liked looking at.
Willow still wasn’t sure what to make of this entire conversation, but she knew Spike was, as he had been once or twice in the past, being sincere and making a special effort to try getting her past her self-consciousness.
She was still quietly staring at him when he continued. “It looks nice, Red”, Spike told her, without even a hint of sarcasm or cutting words to follow shortly.
“Thank you, Spike”, was the only phrase she could put together in this moment. “I might take your advice there. I mean, not fancy things like this, but just hats. You could tell me what you think, I won’t even get all teary if you say something looks all right and another thing looks terrible.”
“That’s awfully kind of you, pet. But I doubt any place that we might cross paths, you know, dark alleys and sewer pipes, would be appropriate for such attire.”
Turning away to keep on the path to the place she called home, Willow looked back once at Spike. His dejected look conveyed that she was not getting her message across clearly. ”I meant what I said. I trust your judgment. And not just in matters involving accessorizing.” Nice, she thought, maybe I could have come up with something a little less idiotic to say?
“Let me walk you back home, then. Please?”
It was endearing as all hell, and there was no way she could refuse.
Holding her arm out, Spike curled a hand around her forearm and that was not hot, not even a little bit. No way.
Approaching the Summers home, Spike stopped a block away. “No reason to make trouble, Red, I’m not going in there. I’ll watch until you’re inside.”
On impulse, Willow leaned in and kissed Spike on the cheek.
“Thanks, Spike. For walking me home and for the compliments.” If there was one thing her parents had drilled into her from childhood, it was to personally thank, no matter the distance, the relative, or the strangeness, anyone who’d done something nice for you.
“Guess this is our stop”, Spike said, turning to face Willow as she ground her smoke out on the sidewalk under one of her pastel pumps.
“Good night, Spike. And thanks. I’ll text you a picture of me with the hat if you want”, she added, jokingly.
When he said that he absolutely did want her to do just that, Willow ignored the flush in her cheeks and walked into the house.
Characters/Pairing: Spike/Willow
Rating: PG
W/C: ~1100
Summary: Spike’s a little surprised to bump into his kind-of friend Red this weekend.
A/N: I generally don’t write het, so I’m making this just kind of flirty. Hopefully it will not suck. Written for the nekid numbers challenge at nekid_spike.
It was fifteen minutes to midnight when Spike ran into Willow walking alone toward Buffy’s house. Not wanting to startle her, he moved steadily from his hiding spot and just stood on the sidewalk, waiting as Willow kept walking toward him.
In all the years they’d known each other, he’d never seen Red look quite like this. She was dressed in a pastel colored dress, complete with accessories. High heeled shoes, pantyhose, earrings, even a matching purse. And a - Dear God, honestly? A hat. A fancy kind of hat.
When she finally got close enough to talk, of course, she did, right away. “Spike. Seriously? What the - what are you doing out here? Is there something wrong?” He didn’t visit Sunnydale often these days.
Trying to soothe away the panic in her voice, he chuckled in a casual way.
“Nothing bad, Red, swear on Cecily’s grave. I was just out for a walk, maybe looking for something to fight or kill while I’m in town, you know, how I do sometimes…” By the time he realized he was babbling, Spike was already attempting to make up for it. “You look…um, nice, Willow. Very nice.”
To her surprise, Willow graciously accepted the compliment and decided she’d try to get a few moments alone in conversation with Spike.
“You like the dress?” she asked, hesitatingly.
“Just don’t think I’ve ever seen you all done up like that, is all. More than a little different than your usual clothing, wouldn’t you say?”
Blushing, Willow replied, “I’ve just come from the Easter vigil Mass with Dawn and Buffy. They’re already home, I decided to walk.”
“But you’re Jewish. Why would you attend that kind of service?” Spike was genuinely confused at this point.
Willow was more than happy to explain. “It’s just a nice thing to do, sharing in something that your friends enjoy. Anyway, I’m not Jewish. I mean, I am, I guess, but I’m wiccan now, you know that.”
“’Course, pet,” Spike replied, easy as you please. “It’s just…I wouldn’t think the Easter vigil Mass is the type of thing a wiccan or a Jew would participate in. Bit out of the ordinary.”
“Yeah, I guess”, was her reply, “but there are fun and interesting, even enlightening things about other people’s religious faith that a person can appreciate and learn from.”
“I suppose you’re right about that. Some things I remember, you know”, he said, leaning against a fence and lighting a cigarette. Tracking the girl’s eyes was easy for him. He saw so much there - apprehension, satisfaction, happiness, dread. And that one other thing he’d never seen before. Acting on it before really thinking it over, he lit a second Marlboro and handed it to the girl.
Willow took the cigarette gratefully and stood in silence as her deep inhales showed it wasn’t the first smoke she’d ever had.
“What is it exactly? Those things you remember?”
“Oh, you know, the usual, Easter dinner, being out of school for two weeks, going to church with my mum. There were always so many…”
There was no way Willow was giving Spike a chance to weasel out of this one. “So many what?”
“Bonnets. Easter bonnets, love, like the one you’ve got on, decorated with ribbons and flowers.”
Taking another drag from her smoke, Willow replied, “So you like the hat too? I thought it was silly but everyone else was doing it so I figured I’d join in. Figured wearing this kind of thing would help me to blend. I always think, when people look at me, in their head they’re calling me a witch or a Jew or a weirdo, though sometimes it’s hard to know which one they think is worse.”
“Red, stop all that. Whichever you are, any of those things or all of them, I think you’re brilliant. And the bonnet suits you. Maybe you should think of wearing hats more often”, he said. He was just stating his observations, but he knew it sounded flirty. Maybe he was doing it on purpose. The picture of the girl casually dragging on a cigarette in her Sunday best was…well, he didn’t know what, really, but it was something he liked looking at.
Willow still wasn’t sure what to make of this entire conversation, but she knew Spike was, as he had been once or twice in the past, being sincere and making a special effort to try getting her past her self-consciousness.
She was still quietly staring at him when he continued. “It looks nice, Red”, Spike told her, without even a hint of sarcasm or cutting words to follow shortly.
“Thank you, Spike”, was the only phrase she could put together in this moment. “I might take your advice there. I mean, not fancy things like this, but just hats. You could tell me what you think, I won’t even get all teary if you say something looks all right and another thing looks terrible.”
“That’s awfully kind of you, pet. But I doubt any place that we might cross paths, you know, dark alleys and sewer pipes, would be appropriate for such attire.”
Turning away to keep on the path to the place she called home, Willow looked back once at Spike. His dejected look conveyed that she was not getting her message across clearly. ”I meant what I said. I trust your judgment. And not just in matters involving accessorizing.” Nice, she thought, maybe I could have come up with something a little less idiotic to say?
“Let me walk you back home, then. Please?”
It was endearing as all hell, and there was no way she could refuse.
Holding her arm out, Spike curled a hand around her forearm and that was not hot, not even a little bit. No way.
Approaching the Summers home, Spike stopped a block away. “No reason to make trouble, Red, I’m not going in there. I’ll watch until you’re inside.”
On impulse, Willow leaned in and kissed Spike on the cheek.
“Thanks, Spike. For walking me home and for the compliments.” If there was one thing her parents had drilled into her from childhood, it was to personally thank, no matter the distance, the relative, or the strangeness, anyone who’d done something nice for you.
“Guess this is our stop”, Spike said, turning to face Willow as she ground her smoke out on the sidewalk under one of her pastel pumps.
“Good night, Spike. And thanks. I’ll text you a picture of me with the hat if you want”, she added, jokingly.
When he said that he absolutely did want her to do just that, Willow ignored the flush in her cheeks and walked into the house.