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Chapter 8 – Payback’s A Bitch


Things hadn’t improved between the time they left the coffee shop and when they arrived at the mall. Spike kept murmuring things under his breath, which only fueled Buffy’s anger more.

“Could you at least speak louder so I can hear what the hell you’re complaining about?” she asked as they entered the mall, ignoring the way he glared at her.

“I’m loads better than Andrew and you know it,” he replied before looking away, his shoulders slumping.

“Are you sulking?” she asked, grinning when he shot her a look. “Big bad Spike is sulking like a little boy!”

“Sod off, you insane bint,” he replied, crossing his arms. She looked at him, smiling.

“Are you freeing me of my slave duties?” she asked jokingly. “Wow, Spike, that’s so cool of you. I’ll see you around.” She turned on her heel but didn’t get very far as he grabbed her arm and wrenched her back to him.

“You’re mine,” he said sharply, looking into her eyes, and she felt a chill run through her. “I paid good money for you, and I’m not about to just write off five hundred dollars, out of the goodness of my heart. I demand to get what I paid for.”

“Oh, you’ll get what’s coming to you,” she replied, looking away. He raised an eyebrow, studying her. “Are we going to argue all day here or are we going to get you new clothes?”

“I want to go to the CD store first,” he said. “You can go off on your own for a bit.” She tilted her head, looking at him. “Or you can continue to be a thorn in my side- your call.”

“Adios,” she said, quickly turning and walking to a nearby department store. He sighed as he watched her retreating form.

“She’s going to be the bloody death of me,” he said before going to buy new CDs.

* * * * *

As Buffy exited the department store carrying several filled bags, Spike appeared by a kiosk selling Zippo lighters.

‘Why am I not surprised?’ she thought, heading towards him. ‘Maybe he’ll die of lung cancer before the week is through.’ She paused, frowning. ‘Wow, Buffy, that’s possibly the worst thing you’ve ever thought.’ Before analyzing it more, Spike appeared in front of her, looking at the bags she was holding.

“Go on a spree, luv?” he asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, it’s all for you,” she said. “I got you some new shirts to replace the old ones.”

“Thanks,” he said, smiling a little. “That’s really decent of you.” She bit back a smirk as she thought of the contents in the bags.

‘I have a feeling he won’t say thanks when he sees exactly what I bought,’ she thought.

“Let’s head home,” he said. “I can’t stand being in this place for another minute.” She nodded, preferring to go home anyway, not wanting to be seen in public with him more than she had to.

They walked out to the parking lot and got in his car before Spike realized something.

“Why am I driving?” he asked. “Shouldn’t you be carting me around?”

“Cars and Buffy don’t mesh well,” she said, looking at him. “So unless you want your darling car to end up smashed into a pole, I don’t suggest letting me drive.”

“Wow, Summers, I’m surprised you didn’t just get behind the wheel and let me find that out for myself,” he said, putting a hand over his heart, feigning shock. “Are you actually looking out for me?”

“Don’t want to be sent to jail for vehicular manslaughter,” she replied, narrowing her eyes at him. “I’d rather be sent there for homicide.” He glared at her before starting the engine.

“Whatever you say, pet, but I think you’re starting to grow fond of me,” he said. She looked at him as her jaw dropped. “Pretty soon, you won’t be able to resist my charm.”

“Charm?” she asked in disbelief. “I know you’re delusional, Spike, but if you think you’re charming, you’re even more insane than I suspected.”

“Oh, come on,” he said, smirking. “You fancy me, luv- I can tell.” She crossed her arms, tilting her head as she looked at him. “You totally wanted a piece of me this morning when I was in bed. And hey, I probably wouldn’t have stopped you. Bloody convenient, being in my bed and all.”

“Sorry, but you’re not as good-looking as you like to think,” she said sternly. “Just because some girls at school fawn all over you, doesn’t mean that I’m one of them. I see right through you, William- you’re just a scared, insecure little boy who pretends to be tough so that no one will see what a loser you really are.” He stared at her, actually surprised by her little outburst. When he didn’t say anything for a moment, she looked outside, mentally reprimanding herself for being so mean.

‘He might be a jerk, but that was almost pushing it a little too far,’ she thought.

“That’s really what you think?” he asked, and she nodded slightly. “Well, Goldilocks, I guess I can’t blame you for being honest.” She looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “But I’m not a loser.”

“Whatever you say,” she said, shrugging. “In your circle of friends, you’re not. But in mine, you’re not exactly the King of Cool.”

“Don’t really care what any of your pals think,” he said as he drove toward his house. “Besides, it’s not like any of your friends are the picture of perfection. I mean, Red, for instance, is-”

“Don’t you dare say anything about her!” Buffy cut in, angry. “She’s better than anyone I know, and if you can’t see that, then you’re blind.” He smiled and looked at her.

“You know, kitten, I really love verbally pushing your buttons,” he said before leering at her. “But I can think of a ‘button’ I’d really like to ‘push’ on you.” She blushed before smacking his arm, getting him to chuckle. “You’re a tough little girl, aren’t you?”

“I can hold my own,” she said, looking at him. “Especially against a loser like you.”

“Ouch, pet,” he replied, playfully pouting, holding a hand to his chest. “You hurt my feelings.”

“That’s not the only thing that’s going to hurt when I’m through with you,” she said, looking outside, not seeing the perverted smirk Spike sent her way.

“That sounds delicious, luv,” he said. “I’d bet you’d make it hurt in all the wrong places.” Once again, she blushed and smacked him. “What? I couldn’t just let that lie there.”

* * * * *

“Buffy, what the hell is all of this?” Spike asked as he looked through all of the bags Buffy set on his bed. “There’s a shirt in here that looks like a bloody disco ball.” She giggled and sat on the bed, grabbing a bag. “Please tell me that one’s for you.”

“Nope, all of this is yours,” she said. “I wanted to improve your wardrobe, you know- add some color.”

“‘Improve’?” he asked sharply, staring at her. “Summers, it looks like Studio 54 threw up in these bags.” She laughed again, only harder this time. As she wiped tears off the corners of her eyes, Spike threw a bag at her. “You’re going to return all of this and get me new stuff.”

“Can’t,” she said, crossing her legs underneath her. “Everything was on clearance, so you can’t return it.”

“At least I didn’t pay for any of this,” he mumbled, sitting down next to her, frowning. She smirked and looked at him.

“Actually, you paid for all of it,” she said, and he looked at her, confused. “I took money off of your desk before we left so that I could pay for it.” His face fell before she saw fury fill his eyes. She scooted back a bit, becoming slightly afraid of him. “I’m sorry! I wanted to piss you off.”

“Congratulations- it worked,” he replied, clenching both his jaw and his fists. “Do you have a bloody death wish?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, sounding almost sincere. “You’ve been a jerk to me for as long as I’ve known you, and I guess I just wanted to start paying you back for everything.”

“By stealing my money and wasting it on this crap?” he asked, kicking the bags off his bed.

“Yeah, it was a start,” she muttered, looking down. “I’m sorry, okay? I’ll pay you back, I promise.”

“Yeah, you’ll be paying me back,” he said. “Every single cent of the money you spent.”

“Fine,” she said, shrugging. “The receipt is in one of the bags- you can see the total, if you want.”

“Plus you owe me for the five hundred I spent on you,” he said. “I could’ve gotten a trollop that would’ve been more obedient than you.” She looked at him with an indignant expression.

“Then why didn’t you?” she asked, upset. “Would’ve saved me from this nightmare.”

“Because, luv, I think you’ll be better for me than any prostitute,” he said, smirking. “Besides, I doubt you have any diseases.” She mumbled something and stood up, going to the door. “What was that?”

“I wish I had a disease- you’d be the first person I’d want to infect,” she said, looking back at him.

“I’m touched,” he grinned. She narrowed her eyes at him before leaving the room. “And the fun is just beginning.”





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