Hey all! So, this all started with me just scribbling some stuff down, and I had no intention of ever letting anyone see it. But then I thought, there's really not much Spike/Winnie on the site, and it's a great pairing, in my opinion, so why not just touch the stuff I'd written up and see if people wanted to read more? So, let me know if you want to read more!

All love that has not friendship for its base is like a mansion built upon the sand.

-Ella Wheeler Wilcox

It all started with a cup of coffee.

Or, more specifically, a spilled cup of coffee.

Or, even more specifically than that, a spilled cup of coffee that was now splattered all over a white shirt. Winnie's white shirt.

"Spike!" She exclaimed loudly, trying in vain to prevent the brown stain from spreading across her entire torso. "That was my only cup of coffee!"

Spike, who had bounced back from the impact of the crash, had recovered himself and was fluttering nervously, wanting to help but not quite willing to go near the danger zone of Winnie's chest. "I'm so sorry, Winnie, I just wasn't looking where I was going, and I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

"It's ok, Spike." Winnie looked down at her ruined blouse and sighed. "Ugh. Can you go get me some paper towels from the bathroom, please?"

"Okay, bathroom, right away, going now, bathroom-" He turned away and bolted toward said bathroom, almost tripping over himself in his haste. Winnie watched him go, rolling her eyes, and then knelt down to gather up the cup and the napkins that had gone down with it. Napkins that were also soaked through. She sighed again, but before she knew it, Spike was kneeling beside her, using a generous wad of paper towels to soak up some of the sludge on the ground. When she looked up, he held out another wad, just as big as the first.

"Paper towels." He said. "For your… uh…" He gestured to his chest area. "Your shirt." Pause. "I'm really sorry, Winnie, I should have been paying more attention, then none of this would have happened..."

Winnie waved him off as she stood up, attempting to pat her shirt dry. It wasn't working. "Don't worry about it, Spike. I'm just going to go change. Can you take care of this?"

Spike nodded feverishly. "Of course. You go change, I'll clean up. That's good. I can do that." He kept rambling, and Winnie left him to it, turning towards her desk and approaching slowly, keeping the contact between her shirt and her midriff to a minimum. As she got closer, Sid looked up from the dispatcher's seat and grinned in amusement.

"I knew you liked coffee, Winnie, but I had no idea that it extended to a fashion choice." He looked her up and down. "It's a good look for you."

"Yeah, very funny, Sid." But her smile grew little wider. "Can you wait just five more minutes while I clean up? I'll cover for you later." Sid was already nodding and handing over her bag.

"No problem, Win. See you in five."

Winnie took the bag and headed past Spike toward the bathroom. As she walked by, he looked up from his mopping and smiled hesitantly. When she returned the favor, he visibly relaxed. Sorry, he mouthed again before she disappeared from sight.

Once in the relative safety of the women's room, she peeled off the dripping shirt and pulled her uniform button-up out of the bag. At least this one was black; she mused, and wouldn't stain as much if there happened to be another spill. She finished tugging it on and briefly submerged the original shirt in water to see if it was salvageable. When she realized it wasn't, she threw it in a trashcan and went back out to relieve Sid.

When she got to the desk, however, Sid wasn't the only one there. "Winnie, I really am sorry." Spike said sincerely. "It was stupid of me, I should have looked where I was going-"

"Spike." Winnie interrupted, and Spike immediately stopped talking. "It's not a big deal at all. It was a mistake; no use crying over spilled milk. Or coffee, in this case. It's okay. Sid, thanks."

Sid smiled as he vacated his seat. "Anything for the lady, Winnie. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure thing." She sat down. "Really, Spike, it's fine."

"I don't know…." Spike trailed off. "I should have…" He furrowed his brow. "Actually, just out of curiosity, why did you bring up the coffee?"

Winnie looked at him like he was crazy. "Well, Spike, you had just spilled it down my front."

Spike blushed. "I know, but you said that that 'was your only cup of coffee', not 'oh my god you ruined my shirt.' There's a distinct difference, and I was wondering."

"It was my only cup of coffee, and I need coffee. Now I can't get it until the end of my shift, and that's…" She checked her watch. "Seven and a half hours away. Coffee is good. No coffee is bad. Hence, bad."

"I'm sorry, Winnie…"

"It's okay. I'll try to get some on my break. There's only… four hours left." Winnie groaned as she said. "I'm going to die, Spike."

"Because you didn't have any coffee?" Spike asked uncertainly.

"Yes, because I didn't have any coffee!" She snapped. Spike took a startled step back.

"I'm just going to, uh…" He shuffled away from her. "SRU stuff, you know? Duty calls." He gave one last nervous smile before he disappeared beyond the door.

Winnie sighed. Not only did she not have any coffee, she had alienated at least one member of team one. Oh well, she thought. I'll just have to apologize later.

It turned out she didn't have to. An hour and a half later, she was busy jotting down some notes in the log in front of her when she got the feeling someone was watching her. She looked up, only to see Spike walking toward the desk, focused on something in his hand. She frowned, looking at the clock.

"Spike, what are you doing here?" She asked, confused. "Your shift ended an hour ago, and I saw you leave."

Spike looked up and gave her one of his signature dimpled smiles. "I had to go get something." He made it to the desk and plopped a tray down in front of him. It had three Starbucks cups inside. "That one's just regular coffee," he said, starting at the far right. "That one's a cappuccino, and that one's a caramel macchiato. I wasn't sure which one you'd like." He explained. "Oh, and I also got milk and sugar, too. If you want them, of course." As he pulled said items out of his bag, Winnie wondered how in the world he had gotten out of Starbucks with one of their huge thermoses of milk, but decided not to question it.

Spike was looking at her apologetically. "Sorry it took so long; there's not really a Starbucks near here." When she didn't respond, he pushed the tray a little closer to her. "If you don't like any of these, I can go back…" He said apprehensively.

"What? No, no, Spike, this is perfect! It's… sweet."

Spike blushed again. "Well, I spilled your coffee and ruined your blouse thing- it was the least I could do."

"Still, it's very nice of you." Winnie looked at the tray. "I can't drink three of them, though. As much as I want to."

"I'll have one of them too, and you can pawn the last one off for favors. So, what do you want?" As she picked up the regular coffee, he smiled.

"I had a feeling you'd choose that one."

"You did? Why?" Winnie glanced at him as she pulled the cup closer to her.

Spike shrugged. "Well, you know, you're kind of right down to it, aren't you?" At Winnie's puzzled look, he clarified. "You don't mess around with all the frills. It's just… you. I bet you don't do all the girlie stuff, am I right? Like, the gossiping with the posse, the spending hours and hours getting ready for a normal workday, that sort of thing. That's the way I see it, at least. See you." His ears turned red. "Not that I see you, I mean, watch you all the time or anything, I'm not a stalker, I just-"

Winnie laughed, a genuine, ringing laugh. "You're not a stalker, Spike. You just notice things, that's all. Here, come have a seat." As he moved around the desk to join her, she continued. "You're right about me, by the way. Never had the patience for the giggling gaggle. I'd much rather curl up and read a good book at home than go get my nails polished."

"Me too." Spike said with a grin. "It just chips off way too quickly, and this one time I used red and it was a total disaster. Last time I go with a bright color, I said to myself- hey! Ouch! No need for violence, Winnie!" He rubbed his arm where she had punched him. "It's not becoming in a lady-" He narrowly avoided another blow to the head, and raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, you win. You're not a lady, of course, you're just a heartless guttersnipe-"

This time he had to leap out of his chair to escape certain death, and barely made it to the other side of the desk. For a minute, Winnie looked like she might jump over the offending barrier, but then composed herself and sat back down calmly. After taking a deep breath, she batted her eyelids at Spike. "Oh, Freddy, you don't think I'm a heartless guttersnipe, do you?"

Spike paused, and then let out a delighted laugh. "You recognized it! Oh. Winnie, you're the greatest!"

"I'm not the greatest. Alan Jay Lerner is the greatest. And My Fair Lady? I can quote almost every line. I've watched it a hundred times, and have the soundtrack and everything." She grinned at him. "It's my jam."

Spike laughed again as he came back and dropped into his seat. "Your jam? I can see that. One of the greatest love stories of all time, by the way. My Fair Lady. Don't you think?"

"Of course it is. Higgins and Eliza are perfect for each other, even if they don't realize it." She paused. "So what do you think are the other ones? The other greatest love stories? My Fair Lady, and what else?"

"Well, a lot of them are from Shakespeare- Romeo and Juliet, Beatrice and Benedick, Katharina and Petruchio- And I think Casablanca belongs right up there with them." He looked around furtively. "This next one never gets out to anyone, okay? No one. Especially not the team. Got it?"

Winnie nodded, and Spike smiled guiltily. "Pride and Prejudice. They just belong with each other, right? It's so beautiful."

"Oh, Spike, you're such a romantic! This is priceless!" Winnie was laughing, and Spike frowned.

"What, you don't think so?"

"No, no, it's my favorite! It's just that you- you're a guy- and-" She just started laughing harder.

"And what, guys can't appreciate good literature? Besides, there's nothing wrong with being a romantic." He huffed. "Pride and Prejudice is a classic."

Winnie straightened up, still trying to contain her giggles. "I know. It is, but still, you've got to admit it's not typical for someone like you to appreciate the romances. But I've got to say, it's refreshing. At least you're admitting to it. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." She leaned back in her seat. "It is funny, though."

Spike smiled a bit. "I guess it's a little funny. But it is really good. And the movie's great too."

"Yeah, you bet." Winnie looked down thoughtfully. "Matthew MacFayden's hot."

Spike wrinkled his nose. "Aaand, you ruined it. Good going, Winnie." He settled back in his chair. "But have you ever read Anna Karenina? What? You haven't? Oh man, it's a great read. It starts off with this girl…"

They kept chatting for another hour before Spike had to leave.

"I'm sorry I have to cut this short." He said. "I promised my neighbor I'd help him paint his apartment, and he's probably expecting me pretty soon. I'm really sorry." Actually, his neighbor was probably expecting him about an hour ago, but he didn't mention that.

"Spike, you don't have to say you're sorry. You apologize way too much, you know that?"

Spike smiled. "Yeah, that's what Sarge tells me- like, everyday. I'm working on it."

"All right, Spike, whatever. Now go, your neighbor's waiting. Thanks for the coffee!" She called as he made his way over to the door.

He stopped at the threshold and waved. "Thanks for the conversation!" He waved again before swinging cheerfully out the door. Winnie watched him go with a smile. Once you sat down and talked with him, he was a pretty cool guy, wasn't he?

Again, let me know your thoughts on it, and what works, doesn't work, etc. It's always a help to know what I can do to improve.

Review review!