I'll Be Loving You Forever - Part 1
Joshua "JJ" Harris was born on April 21st, 2004
The twins (Danielle, "Dani" and William, "Billy") were born on February 12th, 2004
Annie turned five on February 14th (she was born in 1999)
Spike and Buffy have been married five years in February. (seems longer, doesn't it?)
Buffy turned 23 on January 19th.
All the Potentials were endowed with full Slayer power in February 2003.
Buffy and Spike learned of the other dimensions in May, 2003.
William/Spike was turned by Dru in 1880; first came to Sunnydale in Sept. of 1997.
There's good news and bad news ... then there's shopping day!
Thanks to my "ET" and wonderful Beta,
her wonderful suggestions, corrections and encouragement! She's the
I’ll Be Loving You Forever, Westlife
Wolfgang Puck’s Kaiserschmarren:
ScreenCaps courtesy of ScreenCap Paradise:
|Rating / Warnings:||
The first part of this chapter is basically "G" rated - family friendly ... not so much on the second part which will be posted in a couple of days...
Sunday, December 26th, 2004:
Lorne was still working on cleaning up from Christmas Day (he’d definitely need to ask for more help with this chore next time) when Spike and Buffy came downstairs about mid-morning.
Lorne put the last stack of dishes into the sink as he waited for Buffy to get her coffee fixed and Spike to get his blood warmed up – they both looked tired, like they hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night.
“You guys ok?” Lorne asked with genuine concern. Maybe they’d gotten called out late to handle some kind of emergency demon slaying.
Spike looked up at him from his seat at the kitchen table and smirked. “For the record,” he started, looking over at Buffy, “Cher is a bloody tiger. The Energizer Bunny’s got nuthin’ on her.”
Lorne laughed lightly and looked over at Buffy who tried to act nonchalant but was turning a deep shade of crimson. “Cher just likes the hokey-pokey – not my fault that Sonny overindulged at the party and had a rough time keeping up with her later,” Buffy defended with a shrug.
“We are talking about dancing, right?” Lorne asked with a knowing smile.
“Of course! What else?” Buffy assured him, taking a long swallow of the caffeine and sugar rich coffee in her mug. “Sonny better get rested up – there’s hot, sweaty Scrabble in his future later…”
Spike and Lorne both looked at her funny. “Never mind – just a little Anya humor,” she clarified as she sat down at the table with Sonny … uhhh … Spike.
Lorne sat down with them and studied them both carefully for a minute. “If ya tell me what yer lookin’ for, maybe I can help you find it,” Spike offered as he finished his blood.
“It’s just that … well, it’s strange,” Lorne started.
“Not that strange – Buffy could knacker bloody Superman,” Spike defended, resting his chin in one hand. “Turns into kryptonite after a few hours, she does.”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” Lorne began again. “Could you … sing a few bars of something?” he asked Spike.
Spike looked at him with a furrowed brow. “Why?”
“It’s just – strange,” Lorne repeated. “When you sang yesterday, I got nothing.”
“Nothing’s good, isn’t it?” Buffy asked. “I mean, nothing means that nothing bad is happening, or gonna happen, right?”
“No, not that kind of nothing … Nothing as in – nothing. Like you weren’t even there. Maybe it was because you were singing as someone else …” Lorne clarified.
Spike took a deep breath and blew out a long sigh. “♫Lullaby baby blues,
Time to kick off your walkin' shoes, and hug the pillow on your bed, and lay down your sleepy head,” Spike sang tiredly, never lifting his chin up off his hand.
Lorne frowned, pursing his lips together in thought. “There’s still nothing … I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“Maybe your radar’s on the fritz. Too much brandy, I’d wager,” Spike suggested
as he got up and refilled his mug, crumbling up some Weetabix and berber weed in
with the blood before popping it in the microwave.
“Try something else …” Lorne suggested.
Spike hung his head down, his chin hitting his chest for a moment before turning back around and singing dramatically, as if singing for the Queen herself, “♫ God save our gracious Queen, Long live our noble Queen, God save the bloody Queen…”
“Anything?” Buffy asked Lorne, looking between her husband and the green demon.
Lorne nodded slowly. “Yeah – a glimmer, not enough to really see much; I’ve really never seen anything like it before.”
“Maybe Spike’s right – a little too much libation and frivolity,” Buffy suggested with a shrug.
“Yeah, maybe …” Lorne agreed, standing back up and resuming his chores, but he wasn’t convinced of that. He’d clearly seen happy times in the future for Willow and Tara when they sang … nothing was blocking his ‘radar’ on them.
He never got specific details of events – just impressions of the future; he really didn’t know what to make of Spike’s reading. Buffy’s was a bit vague too, but not like Spike’s – which was just blank – a huge black hole of nothing. Until he could figure it out, there was no sense worrying everyone about it – it was probably just an odd combination of sleep deprivation, over indulgence, and dishpan hands…
Wednesday, January 5th, 2005:
Everyone in the mansion came running when they heard screaming coming from the great room. When Spike, Buffy, and Lorne got there, they found Tara and Willow holding hands, turning in circles, and jumping up and down in the middle of the room. The screams were shrieks of happiness.
“What the bloody hell!?” Spike demanded – he’d been downstairs practicing his Chinese … he was determined to beat his daughter at that bloody game at least once in his life.
“I got a job! I got a job!” Willow exclaimed, waving a letter in the air as she released Tara and grabbed Buffy, then Spike, and then Lorne into quick hugs as she continued bouncing nonstop around the room like one of those crazy super bouncy balls they sell in the gumdrop machines at the supermarket.
Spike grabbed the paper out of her hand and read aloud,
“Dear Ms. Rosenberg,
“It was a pleasure to meet with you at the Job Fair on the UC Sunnydale campus in December.
“At this time, we would like to extend a job offer to you, contingent on your graduation in June with your Masters in Computer Science and Information Technology. As we discussed, we believe you would be qualified for one of our many Software Engineer positions with a starting salary of $85,000 annually, to be reviewed and eligible for a merit raise in ninety days and annually thereafter.
“I have enclosed our benefits brochure, which includes company funded health, dental, and vision insurance, two weeks of paid vacation per year, five days of sick time and/or personal days and flexible work hours.
“I look forward to hearing from you in the next few days. I know that you will be a great addition to the Microsoft family.
“Janus Danielson, Recruiter”
Spike let out a long whistle … and looked up from the paper. “Eighty five thousand a bloody year … to start? What did you promise them, Red? Gonna cast a spell to rot Apple?”
“Spiiiike!” Willow whined. “Of course not! I got a job! I got a real job!” she exclaimed, grabbing the letter back from Spike and continuing to dance around the great room.
“What happened to ‘big, fascist corporations are ruining the country – they’re pushing out the little guys and not leaving room for entrepreneurs’?” Buffy asked, quoting concerns she’d heard Willow voice more than once.
“That was when they weren’t payin’ her eighty-five thousand a bloody year…” Spike pointed out. “Plus benefits.”
“Oh, they aren’t so bad, Buffy …” Willow defended. “Look at all the people they employ and all the charities they support and they have a ‘going green’ initiative … they encourage you to ride your bike to work – you can even bring your dog in!”
“You don’t have a dog,” Buffy pointed out.
“She could get one with that eight-five thousand a bloody year… and The Dog Whisperer to train it,” Spike suggested.
“Wait!” Buffy exclaimed, the reality of this finally dawning on her. “Ride your bike to work? Isn’t Microsoft in …” Buffy grabbed the letter out of Willow’s hand and read the letterhead at the top. “Redmond, Washington!? That’s a long bike ride from Sunnydale…”
Willow and Tara stopped dancing and looked at each other guiltily. “Yeah …well, that’s the thing, Buffy,” Willow started, looking back at her friend.
“You’re moving …” Buffy filled in sadly.
Willow shrugged. “Buffy – I can’t keep sponging off you and my parents my whole life. This is a great job – a real opportunity for me… for us!” Willow amended, taking Tara’s hand. “I’m sorry… you know if you need us, we can be back in just a few hours.”
Buffy smiled sadly at her friend and drew her into a hug. Of course Willow couldn’t just hang around here waiting for them to need a locator spell done or need someone turned into a rat or brought back from the dead… “I know – you’ll do so great there, Wills. You’ll be in charge of the place in no time.”
Willow laughed as tears stung her eyes. There always seemed to be a downside to change – no matter how good it was, you always had to give something up in order to move forward. They were excited to try living in the ‘real world’ with their own place, their own money, their own everything, but at the same time, they would miss their adopted family terribly.
Saturday, January 8th, 2005:
Buffy dropped a soft kiss on Spike’s lips as he slept. “Hmmm?” he muttered, half asleep.
“I’m going now,” she whispered to him.
“Going?” Spike groaned, trying to focus.
“To L.A. … the limo will be here any minute,” Buffy explained, keeping her voice soft.
“The shopping trip and day spa – you knew I was going today.”
Spike tried to will himself more awake … what day was it? What bloody time was it?
“I’ll see you tonight. I’ll have new shoes to model for ya, so get some rest,” Buffy teased, dropping another kiss on his lips before turning and leaving their room, closing the door softly behind her. Spike moaned and gave up on trying to wake up – he was back asleep before the door even closed.
Buffy had set her alarm clock to get up at 5:00am, but in truth, she hadn’t needed it – she was as excited as Annie on Christmas day and had hardly slept the night before. This was gonna be an awesome day – the shopping trip and spa treatment that Spike had given her was one of the best Christmas gifts she’d ever gotten.
Nothing strange or unusual had happened since Lorne’s strange reading, so they decided to go ahead and schedule her day trip to Beverly Hills. Spike would stay home with the kids while she was pampered and treated like a star for the day.
The driver of the black Hummer stretch limo introduced himself as Kalani. He was nineteen or twenty, Buffy guessed, with blond hair that was long on top and short underneath - a modern bowl cut, and soft brown eyes. He had small stud earrings in both ears and was about Spike’s height and build - he looked like he'd rather be 'hanging ten' than driving a limo.
Kalani opened the door for Buffy and extended a hand to help her get in. “If you need anything, just buzz me on that intercom,” the young man told her, pointing to the intercom on one side of the limo.
“Got it,” Buffy told him with a smile and settled into a seat before he closed the door and went to take his place behind the wheel.
The limo was huge inside – really kind of a waste for just one person to be in here. She made a mental plan to have the whole gang come out and ride around Sunnydale in it when she got back tonight – everyone in town would wonder who the movie star was that had come to town.
The windows were mirrored on the outside, no one could see in, but she could see out. There were small, twinkling fairy lights on the ceiling, a well stocked bar with snacks, two TVs, a stereo, miles of bench seats, and a sun/moon roof that, when closed, was like a mirror above her, reflecting the dancing fairy lights and everything inside the limo, and when opened gave a great view of the night – or early morning, as it were, sky.
Buffy opened the moon roof and laid down on her back, looking up at the stars as the limo rolled up the interstate towards L.A. She suddenly wished Spike was with her, that she was lying in his arms looking up at that stars. She sought out the big dipper and smiled when she found the star he’d given her and the one next to it that she (unofficially) named for him.
She had been looking forward to a day all on her own – no husband, no kids, not even any friends – just a day to do what she wanted, pretty much when she wanted and not have to worry about what anyone else wanted to do. She could almost feel a physical pull from her soul to Spike’s when she was away from him, and the further away she got, the stronger it seemed to be. She guessed that’s what Lorne had meant that one time when he explained to her about soul mates … the two halves of one whole always trying to find the other. She wondered if it was just her or if Spike felt it too. She looked at the clock on the TV … it was still early, Spike would still be asleep...
Buffy closed her eyes and let the rhythm of the limo speeding down the highway lull her to sleep…
Buffy was standing in front of some kind of building she didn’t recognize – some people came out of the doors and held one open for her and she entered. When she got inside, the smell and sounds were unmistakable – it was a bowling alley. There were lots of lanes – pretty much as far as the eye could see, and tons of people bowling, laughing, and drinking. A jukebox played in the food court/bar and half naked girls in various types of costumes, all of whom looked eerily like her, danced on tables or on the stage to the left of the bar.
“Yep, this must be where he is…” Buffy muttered as she watched herself in a cowgirl outfit draw two six shooters and aim them across the expansive walkway that separated the bar/food court from the bowlers. Buffy looked where the cowgirl aimed and saw Spike and three more versions of herself (in costumes), along with Xander and Anya, bowling.
Buffy shook her head as she walked over to them and watched as Spike threw a bowling ball that looked a lot like Angel’s head, down the lane and knocked all the pins down.
“Ha! Bloody strike!” he exclaimed, turning back around with a triumphant grin. “Beat that, Harris!” he challenged as the three costumed Buffy’s jumped up from their seats, surrounded him and began hugging and kissing him – there was one dressed like Cher – and not in jeans and a halter top – but rather one of those sheer cat-suits she wore later that had sequins placed in strategic spots, one dressed like a French maid, and one dressed like a Dallas Cowboy’s cheerleader.
“You can’t beat a strike,” Anya pointed out. “You can only tie. Unless you knock down all your pins and the pins in the next lane, too … Do that, honey!” Anya instructed Xander.
“There’ll be Scrabble in your future if you do!” Anya offered enthusiastically as Xander picked up a ball from the return – one that looked like Cordy’s head, and prepared to try and beat Spike’s strike.
Buffy stood back and watched as Xander tossed the ball down the lane, it went perfectly straight until it got almost to the pins, then it made a hard right turn into the gutter and missed everything. Buffy laughed and shook her head – of course Xander wouldn’t be beating Spike in Spike’s dream – even at bowling!
Spike turned around when Buffy laughed and his eyes went wide with surprise. “Buffy!” he exclaimed. “Uhhhh … it’s not what it looks like, luv,” he stammered as everyone disappeared – including all the other costumed Buffys.
“It’s not you with lots of girls hanging all over your hot, tight little body?” Buffy asked with a smile as she walked up to him.
“Well…yeah, I reckon it is what it looks like…” he admitted sheepishly, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck as he looked down at the floor.
“I didn’t know you bowled or that you were a Dallas fan,” Buffy teased, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Spike looked up and smiled at her as he settled his hands on her hips. “Not really a fan of the team so much as the birds.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she assured him as she dropped a kiss on his lips.
“Yeah?” he asked hopefully.
“There could be Scrabble in your future … lots and lots of Scrabble – with cheerleaders, and French maids,” she promised with a grin.
Suddenly, the manager of the bowling alley came up behind them. “Mrs. Weckerly, we’re here. The Beverly Wilshire.”
“Huh?” Buffy asked, turning in Spike’s arms to face the man who was suddenly not the manager of the bowling alley but Kalani, the limo driver. “Oh! Already?”
“I have to go, lover … I’ll see you tonight,” Buffy said, turning back to Spike and kissing him deeply before vanishing from his arms as she woke up.
Buffy opened her eyes – the sky above her was light blue and she could see buildings on each side – she felt like she’d only been asleep a minute, but apparently it had been much longer. She sat up as Kalani opened the door; she grabbed her purse, and exited the huge, black limo. No one gave her a second glance here on Wilshire Blvd… in Sunnydale, someone getting out of a stretch Hummer would’ve drawn a crowd – here it was just ho-hum.
Kalani handed her a card. “Just call this number when you’re ready and I’ll meet you back here.”
“Great! Thanks.” Buffy put the card in her purse as she smiled at him and then headed into the Beverly Wilshire Day Spa for her pampering – a Balinese massage, facial, manicure, pedicure, wash, cut, and style … ah, the life of a star.
The receptionist at the Spa said she had been expected and her room was ready… right this way…
Buffy was shown around, then taken to a private room and provided with a soft, fluffy, white robe which would be her wardrobe for the half day of over indulgence.
The day started by warming up in the Aromatherapy Crystal Steam Room, then cooling down in the Ice Fountain and Experience Shower. From there she was pampered by the well qualified and friendly staff – her muscles massaged, her skin exfoliated and hydrated, her nails trimmed, and buffed, and painted a sexy red, her hair shampooed, trimmed, and highlighted, then blown dry and styled like a movie star, and finally a makeup artist gave her a look that could’ve easily passed muster on the red carpet at the Oscars … with smoky, sexy eyes, pink lips, and a light, rosy blush to her cheeks.
Buffy felt like a movie star as she summoned her limo from her dressing room … she giggled at the absurdity of it – she could see herself as a stunt person – maybe, but she’d never make a movie star in a million years, but it was fun to play one for the day.
It was nearly one o’clock and she was starving … getting pampered really works up an appetite! She’s was looking forward to lunch at Wolfgang Puck’s restaurant, Spago Beverly Hills. She definitely needed to recharge her batteries to get ready for the shoe shopping scheduled for the afternoon! Who knew being a star could be such hard work!?
Buffy stepped out of the Beverly Wilshire with her purchases … of course there were purchases! The shampoo and conditioner were to die for … and the hydrating lotion they’d used on her skin made it feel like a baby’s bottom … or, well, something similarly soft but also sexy. She couldn’t wait for Spike to see her and feel her skin … the thought of his hands on her skin made her sigh happily – she really couldn’t wait to see him. God, had she’d turned into one of those sappy, love-struck girls from high school that could talk and think of nothing but their boyfriends? Certainly not! She could spend the whole day on her own and not think of Spike at all! Starting now, she wasn’t going to think about Spike the whole rest of the day. She was a modern woman – a Slayer, in fact! She didn’t need a man to make her feel …
“SPIKE!” she screamed as she found the stretch Hummer parked about halfway down the block – Spike was leaning against the fender, thumbs tucked over his belt, waiting for her. He had on black dress slacks and a satiny, long sleeved, maroon red, button front shirt. He’d even traded in his normal Doc Martens for his ‘special occasion’ dress shoes.
Buffy ran the last few feet towards him and he caught her in his arms as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. Spike laughed when she released him. He wasn’t sure if he should come – if she’d rather be alone for the whole day, but he missed her and when Wes said he was riding up to L.A. to see Fred today, Spike couldn’t let that opportunity pass. (Well, Wes actually said he was coming to see ‘Cordy, Gunn, and Fred’ …but Spike knew better. No one in their right mind would make a special trip to see the Ice Queen…and since he was pretty sure Wes wasn’t a Nancy Boy, he deduced the real person he was driving all that way was to see was Fred). Spike got Tara to watch the kids and bummed a ride to L.A. with the Watcher. Apparently he’d made the right decision.
“Look at you!” Spike exclaimed, taking in the new and improved, freshly pampered Buffy. “That’s a bit of all right, innit?”
“You like?” she asked coyly, turning in a circle on the sidewalk in front of him. She just had on her normal clothes – jeans and a button down, white, long sleeved oxford shirt, but underneath she felt like a million bucks.
“I love,” Spike replied with a look of awe in his eyes as he tilted his head and took her in. She seemed to glow from within – it reminded him of when she was pregnant. There was just a ‘je ne sais quoi’ about her – a certain something, indescribable but there, nonetheless.
“Is that for me?” Buffy asked, seeing a dusty pink, long-stemmed rose in Spike’s hand.
“Oh!” Spike snapped out of his trance and handed her the rose. He had something romantic he was gonna say to her when he gave her the rose … what was it? Bloody hell! C’mon blood, get back to my soddin’ brain! Think! Oh, yeah…
“J'aime deux choses, toi et la rose. La rose pour un jour, et toi pour
toujours,” he told her, taking her hands in his and staring into her eyes … so
green, like bottomless pools of shimmering emeralds.
“Oh, baby … that’s so sweet,” Buffy replied softly, brushing a kiss on his cheek. “What does it mean?”
Spike laughed. He was going to have to get Buffy down in the Bat Cave playing that language game with him and Annie…
“It means, ‘I love two things, you and the rose. The rose for one day, and you forever’,” he told her softly, lifting her hand to his lips and dropping a kiss on the tips of her fingers.
“Awwww … it’s even sweeter in English.” Buffy felt like she was going to melt right there on the sidewalk … maybe she had turned into one of those sappy, love struck girls, after all.
“You ready for lunch, pet?” Spike asked her, opening the door of the limo for her.
“Oh yeah, I’m starving!” Buffy agreed, as she stepped into their ride.
“When aren’t you starving?” Spike asked with a laugh as he followed her in and closed the door. Spike knocked on the divider between them and Kalani and the Hummer started moving. It wasn’t far to the restaurant, really just around the corner – within walking distance – but why walk when you have a sweet ride like this? Plus, who walks in L.A.? Hell, if she had this sweet ride all the time, she'd take it to the mailbox and back!
Buffy talked all the way to the restaurant, telling Spike about the spa and how much she loved it – it was one of the best Christmas presents ever – right behind the ruby and diamond heart necklace and the star he’d given her. Spike listened intently as she gushed about the spa and the people there and how great she felt – he loved making her happy, making her babble like a six-year-old on Christmas morning – it made his own heart giddy when she was like this.
They were seated promptly at the restaurant … Buffy requested a seat out on the terrace where they could watch the people go by – they might see someone famous, but all Spike could see was her. And it seemed that he wasn’t the only one – more than one passerby stopped to ask her for her autograph … they were all disappointed and surprised when she told them she wasn’t anyone famous.
For the first course, Buffy ordered Slow Braised Short Rib Tortellini with wild Maitake mushrooms, pea shoots and red wine-mushroom sauce; Spike ordered Russian Imperial Gold Osetra Caviar with Toasted Brioche.
“Just try it …” Spike urged her, holding a piece of the brioche bread with a smear of caviar on it up to her lips.
Buffy made a face like he’d just asked her to lick a slime demon, but eventually opened her mouth and let him it to feed her. Buffy rolled it around in her mouth a moment before chewing … it was salty and a little fishy and it felt like little balls of Jello in her mouth … but it wasn’t bad – she actually liked the bread better, though. Ok, she could check that off her list of things to do before she died … Eat fish eggs – CHECK.
For the main course they both got the Grilled Prime Ribeye Steak with Braised Swiss Chard, Armagnac-Peppercorn Sauce, and “Pommes Aligot.”
“What’s aligot?” she asked Spike in a whisper before they ordered. “I know pommes – that’s potatoes … ‘pommes frites’ is French fries … what’s an aligot?”
“It means, they put 'all they got' on the spuds … 'all-i-got',” Spike informed her, trying to keep a straight face.
Buffy frowned. “Not the caviar, too, I hope…‘cos that would just be wrong.”
Spike laughed. “Actually, it’s mashed potatoes with garlic and cheese.”
“Oh - very funny, ‘all-i-got’,” Buffy moaned, rolling her eyes and looking back at the menu.
Spike shrugged, he thought it was funny. “I need to take you out more often, luv – Menu Readin’ 101, it’ll be the next class given by Professor Spike…”
Buffy liked the sound of that! She could get used to going to restaurants with menus she couldn’t understand. “Is that a credit course?”
“Definitely – at Spike U ... at this rate, you’ll have your certificate in … fifty years!” Spike informed her with a smirk.
Buffy laughed … she’d already passed the “How to be Slutty” class with flying colors and she was currently enrolled in the “How to Be a Better Friend and Wife” course … she could handle two classes at once, especially if one involved eating. Eating was one thing she’d always been good at.
For dessert, Buffy ordered the Chocolate Soufflé – as recommended by their waitress, and Spike got Wolfgang’s take on the traditional Austrian dish Kaiserschmarrn (A light, caramelized soufflé made from a sweet batter; baked, topped with powdered sugar and served with organic strawberries and strawberry sauce).
By the time they had finished their meals, they were both stuffed. Buffy was feeling less like a movie star and more like the Goodyear blimp as they left the restaurant and started walking back towards the shops on Rodeo Drive. Even though the limo would’ve come and picked them up, it was only a short walk and she felt like she could use it after that meal.
They walked hand in hand along the busy sidewalk…stopping from time to time to look at something particularly pretty or gaudy or pricey in a store window or at a particularly cherry vintage car parked on the street.
They continued walking, going through the quaint looking (but not quaintly priced) pedestrian zone as Buffy continued window shopping and enjoying the envious looks she got from the other women as they gaped at her handsome escort. That blimpy feeling was going away and she tucked herself under Spike’s arm as they walked and talked and laughed – she had no idea where they were going, or even where Jimmy Choo’s exactly was, but she was enjoying this too much to ask anyone.
They stopped at the Chanel store and a salesperson dabbed a bit of their most famous fragrance on Buffy’s wrist … Nº 5. Buffy rubbed her wrists together and then rubbed a bit on her neck before holding one wrist up for Spike to smell. Spike nodded his approval; it was a classic scent, one he’d always liked… well, since it came out in the ‘20s in Paris, at any rate. He remembered a famous quote from Marilyn Monroe … when asked by a reporter, she replied, “What do I wear in bed? Why, Chanel Nº 5, of course!”
Buffy’s rendition of Marilyn’s Happy Birthday song ran through Spike’s mind and before Buffy knew what he was doing, he’d bought a one ounce bottle of the expensive parfum for her … nearly $300.
Buffy just shook her head and smiled as he handed her the package and whispered, “Happy Birthday,” against her ear. Her birthday had come early this year apparently –but she wasn’t complaining.
After walking a ways further and turning a couple more corners, they suddenly emerged back out onto Rodeo Drive itself – right in front of number 240, Jimmy Choo …
Buffy’s heart suddenly started racing with anticipation – here it was, one of the shoe meccas of the world … and she was going in. Spike smiled when he heard her heart speed up … she was so easily excited – like a kid standing outside a sweet shop.
Buffy felt like Julia Roberts in ‘Pretty Woman’ … the second time she went shopping. As Buffy and Spike entered the store, they were greeted warmly and invited to look around. If they found anything that interested them, simply let their ‘personal assistant’, Fabrice, know and he would fetch them in her size and place them in a private fitting area until she was ready to try them on.
There were very few shoes that Buffy didn’t like … in fact, it would’ve been much easier to list the ones not to bring out… There were no prices on anything … which was scary. Buffy remembered a famous quote – she wasn’t sure who said it, but it went, “If you have to ask how much it costs, you can’t afford it.”
“There aren’t any prices on anything,” Buffy whispered to Spike when they were alone.
“No worries – you’re worth any price,” Spike replied softly.
Buffy wasn’t so sure about that…she knew Jimmy Choo shoes could run into the thousands of dollars and her shoes normally ended up getting some kind of blood or demon slime or sewer muck on them. That would just be sacrilege for that to happen to a thousand dollar pair of Jimmy Choos.
Buffy tried on pair after pair … modeling them for Spike and getting his reaction to them. Spike didn’t really have a shoe fetish – he just liked how they made her legs look, but with jeans on, it was hard to tell. Too bad she hadn’t worn a skirt… a mini skirt….hmmm.
“Be back in a jiff, luv,” Spike said, standing up and heading out of the room.
“Where ya going? I’ve got lots more to try…” Buffy objected with a whine, waving an arm at the stacks of shoes still left to try on.
“No worries – you keep trying ‘em – narrow it down to the top ten and I’ll be right back,” Spike assured her as he hurried out of the store.
Buffy sighed – she’d never completely understand him if she lived to be a thousand. She kept trying on the shoes, setting her top picks off to one side… she had it narrowed down to the top nine by the time he got back with a shopping bag in his hand.
“Here …” he said, handing her the bag.
“Nieman Marcus?” Buffy asked, peering inside.
“Sumthin’ to make yer shoes look better…” Spike clarified.
Buffy pulled out a black, form fitting, long sleeved minidress with jewel studded shoulders. “Wow …” she muttered, holding it up in front of herself and turning to face the mirror. “You’re the fastest shopper in L.A.,” Buffy teased.
“I see what I want and I take it,” Spike explained matter-of-factly. At her wide eyes and worried expression he added, “Figuratively speakin’, of course … didn’t just take it, luv.”
Buffy let out a sigh of relief that the Neiman Marcus fashion police wouldn’t be crashing in on them at any moment. “Guard the door,” she instructed Spike as she began to change.
When she was done, she stuffed her jeans and shirt into the Neiman Marcus bag and Spike came back in to give his expert opinion on the shoes she’d chosen. Spike sat back and watched her model the shoes for him, turning this way and that – walking back and forth in front of him like a model on a runway as she looked at the shoes in the mirrors. Spike couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he watched her … she was a kid in a sweet shop … and he was enjoying every minute of it.
**VOTING IS CLOSED** Thanks to everyone who participated!!
Ok - help Spike and Buffy choose three pairs of Jimmy Choo shoes to buy ... email me here: Vote for Jimmy Choo and let me know the number next to the pairs of shoes that you think she should buy. You get three choices.
In a few days, I'll post the rest of the shopping trip and let you know which three she got. No fair peeking at their website to see the prices! She doesn't know what they cost ... and you really don't want to know, trust me on this!
Feedback: Email me feedback, I'd love to hear from you! passionate@passion4 spike.com
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