Prompt: High Society Scooby (fluff)
Prompt: High Society Scooby
Setting: The Future
Rating: PG
Words: 680
Even though Buffy calls Spike her boyfriend and holds his hand in public now, she has a hard time calling what they’re doing dating. Dating implies going out on dates, and while they both enjoy what they do with their evenings, together, it’s still not what she would consider a date. There’s enough of a normal girl left in her that she reserves that word for non-Slayage related things, like going out to a fancy restaurant, or to the movies, or... something. Some indefinable thing that is not ever a thing that they do.
But Spike seems happy (and probably does think of what they do together as dates, considering the bogus stakeout ‘date’ from way back when), and Buffy definitely is happy, so she doesn’t say anything to him. Besides, she can’t imagine Spike going in for the whole fancy restaurant thing. Black jeans and tees are nothing like black tie. (While she can’t imagine Spike being in favor of it, Buffy can still happily imagine him dressed for it. That takes no effort at all.)
So when she comes home one day to find Spike not home and a bouquet of a dozen long-stemmed, red roses on the kitchen table in a gorgeous crystal vase, she’s more than a little bemused. Buffy knows today’s date and what it signifies, but she hadn’t thought Spike would, and there’s a part of her that’s fairly certain those roses are not actually for her or from him.
The card isn’t much help. “Meet me at 7PM in the lobby. Wear the dress.” It’s his handwriting, and the word dress is promising, but what dress?
Buffy goes into the bedroom, and it’s immediately obvious. Hanging on the closet door is the slinkiest, most elegant dress she has ever seen. The kind high society women might wear to a high society dinner. The only thing missing is the family diamonds -
Oh.
Not missing after all. They’re right there, on her dresser.
Buffy sits heavily on the bed, staring. And trying really, really hard not to wonder who Spike killed to get those. He has a soul now, right? He doesn’t even steal, anymore. Right?
No. Buffy shakes her head. He wouldn’t kill, he wouldn’t steal. There’s some other explanation, and the only way to find out is to do her hair and makeup, put on the beautiful dress and (definitely not stolen) diamonds, and meet him in the lobby in -
She looks at the clock, and jumps to her feet with a yelp. In one hour?
Buffy is twenty minutes late, but the look on Spike’s face when the elevator doors bing open and she steps into the lobby is worth it. And Spike - mmm. Black tie looks even better on him than she could have imagined. She stops to do a little staring herself.
He hurries over to her, offering his arm, a nervous smile on his face. “Look, before you say anything, I didn’t kill anybody, and I didn’t steal anything. I did a favor for a fellow, and he did me a favor back, all right?”
She wants to protest, but she did have a moment’s doubt, to her shame. Only a moment, though. If Buffy really thought him capable of such things, she wouldn’t be here. “Spike. They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
He relaxes visibly. “Not compared to you, love. Happy anniversary.”
“You remembered.”
Spike kisses her hand. “You think I could forget?”
“I think -” Buffy knows she’s not good with the words, but what the hell. Spike seems to love her anyway. “I think I should know better than to not expect you to keep surprising me.”
She can see him mentally working through that sentence. When he gets to the end, he seems to take it as she meant it, because he beams at her. “The night’s not over yet.” He begins to lead her to the lobby doors.
“And just where are we going in our fancy digs, oh handsome boyfriend of mine?”
Spike grins, clearly pleased with himself. “It’s a surprise.”
Setting: The Future
Rating: PG
Words: 680
Even though Buffy calls Spike her boyfriend and holds his hand in public now, she has a hard time calling what they’re doing dating. Dating implies going out on dates, and while they both enjoy what they do with their evenings, together, it’s still not what she would consider a date. There’s enough of a normal girl left in her that she reserves that word for non-Slayage related things, like going out to a fancy restaurant, or to the movies, or... something. Some indefinable thing that is not ever a thing that they do.
But Spike seems happy (and probably does think of what they do together as dates, considering the bogus stakeout ‘date’ from way back when), and Buffy definitely is happy, so she doesn’t say anything to him. Besides, she can’t imagine Spike going in for the whole fancy restaurant thing. Black jeans and tees are nothing like black tie. (While she can’t imagine Spike being in favor of it, Buffy can still happily imagine him dressed for it. That takes no effort at all.)
So when she comes home one day to find Spike not home and a bouquet of a dozen long-stemmed, red roses on the kitchen table in a gorgeous crystal vase, she’s more than a little bemused. Buffy knows today’s date and what it signifies, but she hadn’t thought Spike would, and there’s a part of her that’s fairly certain those roses are not actually for her or from him.
The card isn’t much help. “Meet me at 7PM in the lobby. Wear the dress.” It’s his handwriting, and the word dress is promising, but what dress?
Buffy goes into the bedroom, and it’s immediately obvious. Hanging on the closet door is the slinkiest, most elegant dress she has ever seen. The kind high society women might wear to a high society dinner. The only thing missing is the family diamonds -
Oh.
Not missing after all. They’re right there, on her dresser.
Buffy sits heavily on the bed, staring. And trying really, really hard not to wonder who Spike killed to get those. He has a soul now, right? He doesn’t even steal, anymore. Right?
No. Buffy shakes her head. He wouldn’t kill, he wouldn’t steal. There’s some other explanation, and the only way to find out is to do her hair and makeup, put on the beautiful dress and (definitely not stolen) diamonds, and meet him in the lobby in -
She looks at the clock, and jumps to her feet with a yelp. In one hour?
Buffy is twenty minutes late, but the look on Spike’s face when the elevator doors bing open and she steps into the lobby is worth it. And Spike - mmm. Black tie looks even better on him than she could have imagined. She stops to do a little staring herself.
He hurries over to her, offering his arm, a nervous smile on his face. “Look, before you say anything, I didn’t kill anybody, and I didn’t steal anything. I did a favor for a fellow, and he did me a favor back, all right?”
She wants to protest, but she did have a moment’s doubt, to her shame. Only a moment, though. If Buffy really thought him capable of such things, she wouldn’t be here. “Spike. They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
He relaxes visibly. “Not compared to you, love. Happy anniversary.”
“You remembered.”
Spike kisses her hand. “You think I could forget?”
“I think -” Buffy knows she’s not good with the words, but what the hell. Spike seems to love her anyway. “I think I should know better than to not expect you to keep surprising me.”
She can see him mentally working through that sentence. When he gets to the end, he seems to take it as she meant it, because he beams at her. “The night’s not over yet.” He begins to lead her to the lobby doors.
“And just where are we going in our fancy digs, oh handsome boyfriend of mine?”
Spike grins, clearly pleased with himself. “It’s a surprise.”