This was just a quick thought I had in response to something one of the designers (silly Kevin!) said on the Project Runway website, of all things. Honestly, inspiration comes from the most bizarre places.
I don't own anything BtVS or Clueless
Spike's first order of business upon descending on L.A. was picking new vamps for his entourage. And he had just the girl in mind. She was resourceful, determined, clever, a born strategist, and had that sweet innocence that always made for a really deliciously twisted vampire. Plus, she had a knack for grooming that Drusilla would appreciate. His love always liked to have someone to pet at her and dress her up. And if she took to this girl, all that time he spent pampering his vicious black kitten could be put to other purposes. Like building and maintaining an evil empire.She
never cut into his empire-building time. He never had to go looking for her, always knew where she'd be. He saw her nearly every time he staked out that vampire-fast-food complex: the Galleria. It was damned convenient.
Even in that teeming mass of humanity, that melange of smells and sounds that has often brought weaker vampires to their knees, he could always find her. With her zest, boundless confidence, and killer looks she stood out in the in-crowd. She demanded attention. She demanded respect. And as a member of his new posse, she'd demand those things for him. If she, with all her charms, deferred to Spike, everyone who stood in awe of her would hold double veneration for him. It was a sort of feudal situation, and an awesome system. It was the chief reason why so many vamps were gorgeous specimens of their sex. Well, that, and the thought that, if you were going to have to look at someone for a century or more, they might as well be attractive. Vampires of Spike's level only turned the unattractive for use as cannon fodder. This
girl was destined not to be food or readily disposable grunt labor. She was going to be much more fun than that.
She wasn't too challenging to catch, though she did struggle with him to the end. That was an excellent sign. Beyond anything else, this told him that she was bound to be just what the doctor ordered.
She woke up confused and hungry, like most new vampires. Honestly, for most of the recently dead, the knowledge that there was a supernatural was often more difficult to grasp than the discovery that they were a part of it. After her first meal (which she ate more carefully than most ravenous fledges, careful not to spill that most staining of all substances on her outfit), Spike concluded it was time to begin her lessons.
“Right, so, Cher, was it? We'll have to change that. You won't want to stand in the shadow of the original. I've known a good many of our kind less ageless and terrifying that that chit. Something to aspire to, that is.
"Now, as your sire, it's my job to tell you what you need to know to get along. You'll find that your un-life will be much different from what you've known before. Vastly superior, obviously, but very different.
"Lesson the first, luv. Vampires don't wear plaid.”