~Chapter 5: Innocence ~
Spike sighed heavily, as he leaned against the front door, having just let Fred out. He felt exhausted, and it wasn’t even six o’clock yet. He still had to scramble something up for Dawn to at, knowing that she hadn’t eaten since lunch time when Fred had taken her to McDonald’s for a happy meal. Mentally going through everything he had in his fridge, he made his way toward the living room to check on said daughter. He hadn’t truly wanted to leave the six year old alone so soon after seeing her again, but he had really needed to talk with Fred before things progressed any further.
After his brief meeting with Buffy, Spike wasn’t too sure Wesley had made a solid decision on letting the young woman handle the dealings concerning his case. She seemed a little too uptight, and something told him that she really didn’t see him as anything more than a case to win. With her fake smile and overly professional attitude, the petite blonde had come off as impersonal, and unfeeling. That had pissed Spike off immensely, and he had told her as much. Granted, he shouldn’t have been so harsh on her, but still…
But after she had confessed to believing that he was innocent, Spike had felt some sort of connection pass between them. And both Wesley and Fred had assured he that Buffy was very good at her job-although a little closed off-something Spike desperately needed at this point. Drusilla really had the power to take everything from him, and he needed to be sure that Buffy could help Wesley win this case.
Spike smiled to himself, thinking back to the way she had stood up to him, and proclaimed that he was innocent. Somehow, he didn’t think that would be a problem.
~*~*~*~
“So, how old are you, anyways?”
“Twenty-five. How old are you?”
“Six. I just had a birthday a little while a ago. Daddy threw me a party!”
“Did he?”
“Yeah, and e’erybody came to bring me presents!”
“Everybody, huh?”
“Well…not e’erybody. But mostly e’erybody.”
“And is that where you got all these Barbies?”
“Yep!”
Spike stopped dead in his tracks when he came upon the scene before him. There was his daughter, lying on her belly, knees bent, feet swinging back and forth in the air, playing Barbies with his paralegal. Who was also lying on her belly, knees bent, feet swinging back and forth in the air. Spike bit his bottom lip in bewilderment, and tilted his head, wondering how long he had been talking to Fred in the kitchen.
This was not the Buffy Summers he had just met. The closed off, standoffish professional who took her work completely serious was now…playing with bloody dolls?
He cleared is throat softly to gain their attention. “Uh…Buffy?”
Her blonde head snapped up abruptly and her hazel eyes widened in surprise. She dropped the little plastic doll with yellow hair, and got to her feet hurriedly, her eyes never leaving his.
“Daddy! We were playin’!” Dawn chastised in faux exasperation.
“I’m sorry, princess.” Spike told her in his ‘daddy voice,’ smiling at her amusedly. “But I kinda need to borrow Buffy for a second.”
Buffy looked away when he tried to meet her eyes, groping for her files.
“Can I have ‘er back when you’re done?” Dawn wondered, looking up at the nervous blonde.
Spike chuckled. “I don’t know, ducks. Buffy might have other stuff to take care of.”
“Do you, Buffy?” Dawn asked expectantly, giving her best puppy dog eyes.
It was just something so innocent that it almost choked Spike. Little Dawnie had no idea what was happening. No idea that everything could change in just a few short months if things progressed as badly as they had started to since his arrest yesterday.
He vowed right then and there to do everything he could to ensure that his daughter came out of this as unscathed as possible. Whenever she was in the room, he would always act the way he would have had any of this never happen. Furthermore, he would make the most of everything he could, because honestly, Spike had a feeling this would not end well either way.
“Ah…” Buffy looked to Spike for help.
“Why don’t you go take your dolls up to your room, and I’ll talk to Buffy for a moment, kay?” Spike intervened, seeing the blonde visibly relax.
“Okay, daddy.” Dawn grabbed the scattered dolls, and ran toward the stairs.
“And don’t run.” Spike called, watching her go up to her room. Turning back to Buffy, he grinned.
Making the most of everything qualifies as teasing the petite blonde as much as possible, right?
“Never pegged you for the dolls type, pet. Tell me, how’s Lawyer Barbie doing these days? Saving Convict Ken from rottin’ in prison, I hope?”
She looked even more flustered now. “William-”
“It’s okay, Buffy.” He told her, stepping closer. “It’s cute.”
“It is not!” She huffed, turning to sit on the far end of the couch. Spike followed, but remained on the other end to give her enough space.
“It is too! You were alone with ‘er for five bloody minutes, and she charmed you into playing dolls with her. It’s adorable.”
“She was just so endearing. I couldn’t tell her no.” A small smile crossed Buffy’s face.
“She gets it from me.” He smiled proudly.
“Somehow, I find that hard to believe.”
Spike laughed. “Well, she certainly didn’t get it from her mum!”
Buffy’s expression became serious, and she was hesitant when asking her next question. “Where is her mother?”
Spike stopped laughing abruptly, and just stared at her for a moment.
“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked th-”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind.” He told her, enjoying the fact that she seemed to be warming up to him, wanting to know about him as a person. “Just haven’t talked ‘bout her for a long time, is all.”
Buffy frowned, unsure. “Is she…?”
Spike caught her meaning and shook his head. “No, she isn’t dead, or an’ thing… Just bloody skipped town.”
“She left?” Buffy questioned, astonished.
“Yep, first chance she got. Decided one day she didn’t wanna be married anymore.” Spike told her, not sounding at all bitter until he muttered his next words. “And that she didn’t wanna be a mum either. Not that she was mum of the year when she was here, anyway.”
“But she just left?” She said it like it was the most impossible thing in the world to have done, and Spike watched as her face scrunched up in disgust, wondering if she knew how beautiful she was. “What about Dawn?”
Spike gave her a weird look, like she was stupid. “She’s…here. As you saw.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I mean, how could she just leave Dawn?”
Spike didn’t say anything then, but studied her closely. He smiled, thoughtful.
“What?” Buffy wondered, confused by the look he was giving her.
“You like her.” He mused, smile becoming wider.
“Of course I like her, William. She’s adorable.”
“Yeah, but you’re not a kid person.” He pointed out. Off he questioning look, he added: “I can tell.”
“Well, no. I’m really not.” She admitted, smiling. “But Dawn’s my favorite so far.”
Spike chuckled. When she started rummaging through her papers again, he was reminded why she was there in the first place, and tensed up in response. He’s almost forgotten during all the small talk that was happening. Now that he remembered, he wished he could forget again.
“So, uh… You wanna get started?” Spike wondered, leaning as far back into the cushions as he could. “Suppose you’ve got a lot of questions that need answerin’.”
She nodded, producing a pen seemingly out of thin air, and prepared to write. “Yeah. I, uh, can start with some basic ones if you want? Wait for the heavier ones until you’ve had more time to process everything.”
Spike shook his head. “No, that’s fine. Wes knows most of the basics, anyway.”
“Oh…Okay.” She sounded a little disappointed, a fact that surprised him. He was just about to offer up ‘The Entire Life Story of William Pratt-Unabridged’ to make her smile again, when she showed him her ‘business face.’
“Okay. We can start with Drusilla, then.” She said, getting straight to the heart of the matter. “Did she come to you for help, or did you approach her?”
“She came to me.” Spike replied, recalling the incident.
~*~*~*~
Monday Morning, 2nd Period:
“Mr. Pratt?”
Spike looked up from where he was grading papers to find Drusilla in the doorway to his empty classroom, backpack slung over her boney shoulder. She was dressed in all black as usual, her pale skin looking almost translucent in the glow from the fluorescent lightening above. Her long mane of dark black hair was brushed pin straight and fell down over her shoulders to her chest. She wore an innocent smile on her face and looked so young as she bounced on the back on her feet.
“Yes, Ms. Rayne?”
She laughed coyly. “Oh, Mr. Pratt, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Drusilla?”
Spike smiled kindly. “Just trying to keep things professional. It’s my job to prepare you all for the real world, where everyone will call you Ms. Rayne non-stop.”
Drusilla smiled, her dark lip stick a deep contrast to her teeth. She walked further into the room, running the red tips of her fingernails across the smooth finish of Spike’s desk. “You’re so charming, Mr. Pratt. That’s why you’ve always been my favorite teacher here in this bloody town.”
“Ms. Rayne, you know how I feel about such language in my classroom.” Spike chastised, like the father he was. He wasn’t sure how everything this girl did made his extremely uncomfortable. His body felt like it was crawling out of its skin.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Pratt.” She told him, not sounding sorry in the least. “I’ll try to be on my best behavior from now on.”
“I hope so.” Spike told her, not paying that much attention to her obvious attempt at flirtation. When he realized that she hadn’t told him why she was here, he gave her an inquiring look. “Was there a reason you’re still here even though everyone else has gone home?”
“Oh!” She laughed softly, twirling a strand on hair on her finger. “I almost forgot. I was wondering if you could help me with my paper on the Civil War. I know you just assigned it today, but next Monday’s only a week away, and I wanna get a head start on it. I didn’t do too well on my last essay.”
Spike stood up, taking a few stacks of graded papers to the filing cabinet on the right side of the room, still speaking casually. “What exactly did you need help on?”
“Oh, I don’t know, really.” Drusilla shrugged, watching his every move with great interest. “I’m just having trouble wrapping my mind around the topic, is all.”
Spike turned back to her with a curious look on his face. “What exactly isn’t clear about the Civil War? We’ve been discussing it for three weeks now.”
“I know that.” Drusilla smiled, obviously trying to charm him into doing things her way. “But I’m just not exactly good with essays, and you do seem to assign a lot of them.”
“This is an accelerated class, Ms. Rayne.” Spike told her seriously. “If can’t keep up with the required course load, I suggest you take something else.”
She flushed then, and looked as though she may snap at him for a moment, but gaining control, and managing a smile. “I’m fine with the course load, Mr. Pratt. I was just wondering if you might have a little bit of extra time after class to help me. You’re always going on about committing to giving up free time to maintain high marks. I mean, you don’t want me to fail, do you?”
Spike looked at her for a moment, unsure of her threatening tone, before shaking his head slowly. “I wouldn’t want you to fail, Drusilla. I guess I could stay after with you tomorrow, and go over the key points of the essay prompt. Maybe help you get started on the first paragraph.”
“That would be wonderful.” She smiled cheerfully, clapping her hands. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Say two o’clock?”
He nodded. “Two o’clock’s fine.”
“Then it’s a date.” She gave him another innocent grin.
“It’s an appointment, Ms. Rayne.” He corrected her. “One I hope you take very seriously. You do remember what they say. Those you fail to learn history…”
“Are doomed to re-learn it after school with their dashing History teacher.” She offered, boldly.
“I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Ms. Rayne.” Spike told her, ending the uncomfortable conversation. He really didn’t care who her father was, or how much money she had, the girl was just plain creepy to talk to. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some papers that need grading before I leave for today.”
“Thank you again, Mr. Pratt. Have a good day.” She gave an extra shimmy when she turned to go, and Spike rolled his eyes, annoyed, as he turned back to his work.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I've been feeling really sick these last few days, but I had to get this chapter out in time. Hope you like this chapter!