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Willow sniffed, flipping the page in her oversized spell book. "Stupid men, all fucking each other and not paying attention to me like they should be. He says he loves me, so why can't he just do what I want him to and come home? Gotta leave me here all alone on a Friday night. . ." She wiped her tears away, slamming the book shut. "I should do something. Go out. Have a good time. I mean. . .Xander told me that he and Anya were meeting Buffy and Riley at the Bronze. . .that's what I should do. I'll go Bronzin'." She stood up and went to her closet, opening the door.

With a sigh, she began to pick through the new wardrobe Spike had managed to buy her over the period they had been dating: dark silky and satin shirts, leather skirts and pants, greens, dark blues, reds, and blacks. She knew that she looked good in any of it, but didn't feel like being the daring little spitfire she had become under Spike's tutelage. She just wanted to be. . .

The little mousy Willow Rosenberg she once was.

She pushed past all the clothes and reached into the back, grabbing the fluffy pink sweater Spike forbade her to ever wear again. "I'll wear it, just because you aren't here with me. So there!" she proclaimed. She pulled out a dark pair of tights and her red tennis shoes, knowing she would totally shock her friends wearing her old clothes.

As she started to take off the tee shirt she had changed into after the coke incident, there was a knock on the door. She sighed frustratingly and went to the door, opening it.

She frowned at the man standing at her door. He was holding a vase of a dozen blood red velvet roses, one bright white one in the center. Under his arm, he held a long white box that Willow couldn't imagine what it contained. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"I'm looking for Willow Rosenberg," the man said, smiling at her.

"That would be me," she said.

"These are for you, Miss Rosenberg." His smile grew, making Willow somewhat uncomfortable. There was a look in his eyes, almost like a rabid animal. She brushed the thought away and reached out, taking the vase of roses from him. They were beautiful, nicely arranged in a vase, baby's breath all around them. She smiled softly, moving to sit them on the desk. She had a sneaking suspicion that they were from Spike as an apology. He was known to do extravagant things like that for her when she was upset.

She turned back to the man, who waited patiently outside her threshold. Something still struck her as odd with the gentleman, but she ignored it. She moved to the door, taking the box he held out. "Thank you, Miss Rosenberg, I hope you and your suitor have a wonderful evening."

"What?" she asked, glancing down at the box. When she looked up, the man was gone. "Strange people in this town," she muttered, shutting the door.

She went to the bed, sitting the box down, then sitting beside it. She pulled the top off and frowned. There was something in it, but it was covered by light green tissue. There was a card on top of the tissue. She shrugged and pulled out the card, pulling it out of the envelope.

There was a beautiful picture of a sunny hillside on the front. A colorful rainbow adorned the baby blue sky. The clouds in the sky were white and puffy, reminding Willow of cotton. She opened the card and frowned. It wasn't anyone's handwriting she recognized. She began to read:

"Dear Willow,

I have watched you from afar for a long time, and finally gotten the courage to show you how I feel about you. There is a taxi cab downstairs, waiting for you to enter. The cab will take you to Josephine's, where I would love the chance to just sit and talk with you, see if you are really as beautiful close up as you are from afar.

I realize you are currently involved, and wish no harm to come to your relationship. Nor do I want to take you from your blonde boyfriend. However, I would just love the opportunity to, for once, buy you a nice dinner and tell you in person just how much you take my breath away.

Please wear what I have given you in this box, as it would make me the happiest man alive. I think the color would make you even more gorgeous than you already are.

Sincerely,

A Secret Admirer."

Willow placed the card down on the bed and removed the tissue, gasping. The most exquisite hunter green crushed velvet dress lay neatly in the box. She pulled it out, inhaling sharply. It had thin silk straps, a low plunging v-neckline, and looked long enough to stop right above her knees. It was a straight dress and looked as if it would cling to her skin. The back plunged low, and Willow knew that there was no bra in the world she could wear with this dress. "Oh, my," she murmured.

She glanced in the box again, a frown marring her features. Black satin panties and silk stockings were lying there, along with a black garter belt and the clips to attach to the stockings. She blushed, imagining some man out there picking out lingerie for her. Spike was the only man she allowed to pick out the things that went underneath her clothes, much less see them.

She ran her fingers along the stockings, shivering at how soft the silk was. She wasn't sure she wanted to meet her secret admirer, but she was looking forward to wearing the clothes he provided for her. "Well," she said glancing out the window, noticing the taxi that waited for her, "I guess I should get ready."

Twenty-five minutes later, Willow stood in front of her mirror. She smiled softly, her dark red lips flickering gold in the light. She blinked, studying her eye shadow, making sure that the dark green she was wearing to match the dress wasn't too much. She nodded her head. "Willow Rosenberg, you are going to make Spike wish he had paid more attention to you." The dress she wore fit her perfectly, clinging to her body like a second skin. The garter belt and stockings made her sigh softly, causing her to grow wet. She'd always wanted to wear that particular kind of lingerie, but never had.

She knew she'd never cheat on Spike, nor would she leave him, but she was looking forward to the night with her mystery man. She grabbed her purse and left the room, imagining what he looked like. Was he tall? Was he short? Did he have dark eyes and dark hair like Xander? She closed her eyes briefly, an image of the man popping in her head.

A stab of guilt shot through her as she pictured Spike. She opened her eyes and sighed. "No, there is no reason to feel guilty," she said to herself. "None at all. It's not like I'm going to throw Mystery Man down on the ground and fuck the hell out of him." She sighed again, shaking her head. "Time to get to Josephine's and get this over with."

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