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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you for all of the reviews! Don't kill me for the ending ;)
“Hello to you, too, luv,” Spike said cheerfully. “I’m doing well. How are you?”

“Answer the question,” Buffy replied sharply before repeating, “What did you do?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked casually, sitting down on his couch.

“Did you think I wouldn’t figure something out?” she asked. “I mean, it’s pretty suspicious when I suddenly have a deluge of orders from overseas, don’t you think?”

“What makes you think I had anything to do with that?” Spike asked, smirking.

“I’m not dumb, William,” she said, surprising him at the use of his real name. “What did you do?”

“I bought space for a half-page ad in the magazine to advertise your gallery,” he answered, sighing. “I figured every little bit helps, right? The last time we spoke, you said that you were making a lot of profits, yes? The ad was a help, not a hindrance.”

“You shouldn’t have done it,” she said quietly.

“Why not?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow. “I would’ve thought you’d be happy about it. Besides, I’m not about to watch the gallery go down in flames- I figured advertising it in the magazine would be beneficial.”

“Yes, it was, but…” she trailed off as she felt tears forming in her eyes. “I’m sorry if I sound upset- I’m not. Well, I was for a couple of minutes, but… Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, pleased with the change in her tone. “I’m glad I could help.”

“You did an excellent job, Mr. Stealthy,” she said jokingly. “How long did you think you’d get away with it?”

“Lasted longer than I had anticipated,” he answered, chuckling. “I thought I’d play your secret benefactor, in a manner of speaking. Anya suggested spreading the word about the gallery when I flew in last month, and I-”

“Anya?” Buffy asked, stunned.

“Well, she gave me the idea,” Spike said. “I already knew things weren’t on the up-and-up when it came to the gallery, although I had no idea how bad it was getting. I called Andrew, my boss, the day you returned to L.A. and asked that he do me a favor.”

“Which was getting space for the ad?” she asked.

“Exactly,” Spike said. “And making sure it would run in the latest issue of the magazine. Who knew my little plan would blossom so well?”

“Such a clever man you are,” she replied, smiling. “How much do I owe you?”

“Not a cent,” he said. “Well, kisses and lap-dances are always accepted, but you don’t have to feel obligated to provide me with them.”

“Good, I don’t,” she said, giggling. “But your generosity will be paid back in full sometime, I promise.”

“I can’t wait,” he said. “Now, you should get back to work. You’ve got loads of orders to send out, right?”

“As far as I know,” she answered. “Thank you, Spike. I can’t say that enough.”

“You deserve it, Buffy,” he said. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Bye,” she replied before hanging up the phone and taking a deep breath.

He really is one in a million.

* * * * *

“Forgive me?” Anya asked as Buffy emerged from her office minutes later.

“I wasn’t mad at you,” Buffy said. “I mean, you kept a secret from me, which isn’t something I particularly like, but there was a good reason for it. I’ll let it slide… this time.”

“I think I’d like to meet this man of yours,” Joyce said, coming out from the back storage room. “Maybe I should go to London and deliver a couple of pieces myself.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Buffy replied, crossing her arms.

“What makes you so sure?” Joyce asked, smiling warmly. “I think I owe him a thank you, too.”

“He and I are just friends,” Buffy said, surprised by her mother’s disbelieving expression. “What?”

“For some reason, I doubt that,” Joyce said before looking at Anya. “How about you?”

“I know better than to believe that,” Anya answered, winking at Buffy. “Now, who wants to help me pack up some artwork? I want to send a few things out tomorrow.”

“Go ahead,” Joyce said. “We’ll help after we talk for a moment.”

This can’t be good, Buffy thought, looking down as Anya walked into the back room.

“If this is about Spike-”

“It’s not,” Joyce cut in. “But we’ll get to him later.” Buffy raised her eyes to her mother’s. “I know you took it upon yourself to pay off things around here, but you should’ve known that I’d be willing to chip in, too. I’m still angry that you used some of the money your father left you, but I’m more upset that you didn’t tell me about things around here. This place means a lot to both of us, and I would’ve been happy to help out more. I don’t like being shut out of your life.”

“I didn’t want to let you down,” Buffy murmured. “I thought that if things looked good on the outside, you wouldn’t notice how poor it was doing on the inside. I wanted to run the gallery as well as you used to… I didn’t have the heart to tell you that I was running it into the ground instead, slowly but surely.”

“I wouldn’t have been disappointed,” Joyce said. “I understand how trying this business can be- art doesn’t exactly sell itself, and sometimes people aren’t willing to waste their money on things they don’t need. You’ve done an excellent job, Buffy, and I value your determination to make things better, but you can’t have the weight of the world resting on your shoulders all of the time. You need to let people in and allow them to help with burdens.”

“Yes, Mom,” Buffy replied, looking down. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I was scared that you’d be mad at me.”

“I’m not mad about the financial state here,” Joyce said. “Business is starting to pick up now, especially in England. I’m irritated that you took it upon yourself to keep paying off things that you shouldn’t have been with money you weren’t supposed to touch, but I’ll live with it.”

“Thank you,” Buffy said, smiling.

“But I do expect you to take some of the profits you earn and replenish your bank account,” Joyce said, walking towards her daughter and hugging her. “The last thing I need is to have a bankrupt gallery and a homeless daughter.”

“I know,” Buffy replied. “I’ll see what I can do to prevent that.”

“And you’ll keep me informed of everything around here from now on?”

“Of course,” Buffy answered petulantly. “I’d rather not be lectured again on the subject.”

“Good,” Joyce replied, pleased. “Now, update me on the situation with your savior in London.”

* * * * *

A couple of days later, Spike arrived at work and headed to his desk, surprised to see a Post-It note stuck to the monitor of his computer. He grabbed it and raised an eyebrow after reading that Andrew wanted to see him in his office in a few minutes.

What did I do wrong now? he asked himself as he turned on his computer before going to see Andrew.

Once he got to the office’s door, he knocked once and heard Andrew say, “Come in.”

“Heard you wanted to see me,” Spike said as he opened the door and walked in, stopping mid-step when he saw who was sitting across from Andrew, smirking at him.

“We both wanted to,” Andrew replied, grinning. “I was just getting acquainted with-”

“Buffy?”





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