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*A/N: I hope you didn’t think I forgot this story…I know, I know…it’s been a while. Here’s this chapter and I promise I will not rush, and there will be major Spuffy love in no time…*

Chapter Twenty-Two: Here For You

Spike stood at the front counter at the gallery, awaiting shipments from Africa and his mother. He wore his usual attire, a white button-down untucked from his pants, and a maroon color tie. His shoes were classic loafers, and comfortable. His hair was gelled, but needed another bleach job. Buffy had promised to get to it this weekend. This weekend…he’d be able to make love to Buffy again…he couldn’t wait.

The bell on the door rang, and Spike’s gaze went nervously to the door. There, stood a tall blonde woman with blue eyes, and legs for days. She wore a brown knee-length skirt and a white silk blouse. Her features were rigid; her eye like ice, and Spike could feel her superiority.

She walked over to him, her chin up, and stopped before him. “William, I presume.” She held out her hand, and he hesitantly took it. Her accent was as thick in person, as it was on the phone.

“Ms. Post.” He shook her hand with resistance.

“I’ve come to give this to you.” She pulled a stack of papers out of her leather briefcase and placed them on the counter.

“And what, may I ask, are those?” He questioned.

“They’re papers that you must sign, as the heir to the Post family fortune. I was looking for you for months…to explain that these papers needed your signature, and a promise, so that you may inherit the fortune. It’s over fifty million dollars.” Gwendolyn explained.

“Bloody hell! That’s not why I was looking for you.” Spike said, but the thought of what he’d be able to do for Joshua and Buffy with that money, made him crave it for a second.

“I know, but I figured since your father finally gave you my message, you could do as you are supposed to.” She said, taking out a sterling silver pen with her initial engraved on it.

“What exactly would my duties be, if I choose to sign?” He asked.

“Well, for one thing, you’ll have to withhold from marrying Betty…” At her words, Spike felt his heart drop to his stomach, and almost heaved it back up.

She wanted him to give up the only woman he’d ever truly loved for money. “It’s not happening…you can take your sodding papers and money, and take back to the mother land.” He spoke in a nasty tone.

“Are you really willing to give up so much, for someone who will undoubtedly abandon in the end?” Gwendolyn questioned.

“And what makes you so sure about that, Ms. Post?” He spat.

“I spoke to your father through out this whole situation…if you ask me, that Betty of yours is all games. She playing with you William, and I just want to see you become something.” She said.

“If you really wanted that, you would have actually been a mother to me. But you’re not my mother, by blood, maybe, but you didn’t do a thing for me. Thanks for wasting your time.” With that, Spike turned on his heel and walked into the back, in order to sob it out. He wiped his eyes and went back to work at the sound of the bell ringing, as Gwendolyn made her way out.

*

It was nearly midnight, and Spike hadn’t arrived home, yet. Buffy began worrying the second she finished cooking dinner, and he wasn’t home, but it got worse every hour. She called everyone she could think of, even Angel, but no one new where he could be.

Buffy was second away from calling the cops, when she heard the front door open and slam. “Spike?” She ran into the foyer, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Where were you? I was worried sick.”

He sobbed on her shoulder, his breath raging with the smell alcohol. “She’s a bloody bitch…nothing but a bloody fucking sodding harlot.” He slurred.

Buffy separated herself from him, and took his arm across the back of her neck, helping him up the stairs. “It’s okay Spike…we’re going to get you upstairs.” She said, supporting up one flight.

He looked into her eyes when they came upon the bedroom…her bedroom…their bedroom. “Bloody hell…I want it to be special.”

“It will be, but for now, I think you need to be held.” She said.

“By you?” He questioned.

“By me.” She replied, leading him to the bed, and sitting him down. She unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off, his tie, missing, and his white t-shirt went up over his head. She reached for the buckle of his belt, and noticed the bulge. She tingled and gulped. “I need you to control yourself.” Her eyes drifted to the basinet, which was beside her bed.

“Not for you…for the baby…I will.” Spike said, and she removed his shoes and pants.

“Lay down.” She order and he listened. She slid in beside him, and held his back to her. “I love you.” She whispered to him. “I don’t know what happened, but I will always be here for you.”

He drifted off to sleep, and whispered. “No amount of money could ever get me to give you up.”





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