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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks for all the great reviews! I will confess that this chapter is mostly filler/info and aquired with the help of Wikipedia.
There was much to do before Joyce could sit back and relax. She had yet to change the bed linens in Buffy’s room in preparation for her arrival. There was also the shopping for necessary items for the “wedding”, as she was calling it, before she could bring her new purchase home and into their lives. Not to mention the letters sent all the way from England sitting on her desk, waiting for her attention. She swore they seemed to radiate severe stuffiness from across the room, and she was loathed to open them and read the council’s latest dictate.

Regardless of all these pressing matters demanding her attention, Joyce simply wrote the “wedding” date on her calendar, brewed a nice cup of cocoa, and began to peruse the dossier on Spike that she had been given from the Shopkeeper after she had completed maxing out her brand new MasterCard. The folder was a mix of timelines, photographs, and what appeared to be a combination essay/interview.

‘Spike’, born Sir William Henry Pratt in 1859 was a gentleman of honest means and social standing. He lived in London, England, all his life, excluding the years spent at Oxford where he graduated with highest honors. He lived comfortably in the family townhouse, which he shared with his mother Lady Anne Price, widow of Sir Edgar William Pratt. William was a meek, effete young man who spent most days at home caring for his aforementioned ailing mother.

The subject describes his late mother as a kind gentlewoman, who loved him greatly. She would often sing the folksong “Early One Morning” to him when he was a baby, right up until the time of his turning.

William Pratt was a struggling, and often regarded as talentless by his peers, poet. It is at this time that he earned the name “William the Bloody Awful Poet”. A name that would later be shortened to simply “William the Bloody”, and used in an entirely different context. At the time of his turning, in 1880, William Pratt was approximately 21 years of age and attempting to court an aristocratic young Miss named Cecily Underwood. After his romantic overtures were rejected, he was later found wandering the streets, entirely despondent, by his Sire, the Vampire: Drusilla of the Aurelian Order.

The subject would like it noted that after his turning he did not seek out the young lady who had broken his fragile human heart all those years ago. Her subsequent disappearance was in no way a result of his actions. Let it be known that history does not show any record of a Miss Cecily Underwood around the times of 1860-1880. In fact the Underwood family have no record of ever having had any offspring, what so ever.

There is often much deliberation about who sired William Pratt the vampire. Let it be known that the blood exchange transpired between Drusilla and William, though it was Drusilla’s sire, Angelus, who took up the responsibilities of teaching the young fledging, due to her being incapacitated with incurable insanity. It is unknown as to the type of affections Angelus was undergoing towards the young vampire, whether it was familial, romantic, or if it was for his own dark, sociopathic personal amusement.

The subject is refusing to comment.

Whereas new vampires, or fledglings, often delight in killing their families once they’ve embraced the evil within themselves, William Pratt was a notable exception. Having been very close to his mother, he turned her into a vampire to prevent her from dying from tuberculosis. Unfortunately his mother, as a vampire, was such a dark in tauntingly twisted creature that William was forced to stake her for both their sakes.

The subject confesses that he had been dead only a day and had not yet learned that as a fledgling he was unable to sufficiently produce another vampire of their superior ilk. That fledglings made from the newly risen always come out a little bit wrong. The fact that he had enough presence of mind, however, to attempt a turning when most new vampires simply feed like starved beasts says quite a bit about him.

After the death of his mother, William Pratt began his new life with Drusilla, her sire Angelus, and his sire Darla. They traveled across Europe causing chaos and carnage under the moniker ‘The Scourge of Europe’. Euphoric with his newfound abilities, he adopted the poses and trappings of a cultural rebel, adopting a working class North London accent and embracing impulsiveness and extreme violence. He later became known as ‘Spike’ based on his habit of torturing people, notably those of his old peerage whom used to bully him in life, with railroad spikes.

The subject would like it known that his primary victims had previously asked for said spiking and that he was only fulfilling their desires. It should not reflect poorly upon him that the “damned ponces” did not know what they were getting themselves into, though they “bloody well got what they bloody well deserved”.

In 1900 Spike killed his first slayer in China, during the Boxer Rebellion. It is the only time a reasonably young vampire had ever slain their mortal enemy, in honest hand to hand combat. It is noted that the Chinese Slayer was armed with a holy sword at that time, which she used to scar Spike over his right eyebrow. In 1943, he was captured by Nazi’s for experimentation and taken aboard a submarine, which he later escaped from alongside a newly sired vampire named Lawson and, his grandsire, Angelus.

Let it be noted that the subject describes the vampire Lawson as “an alright bloke” and Angelus as “a sodding poof”. I am unsure as to why that is of importance.

At some point between 1940 and 1950, Spike became the rival of the famous Dracula. Their mutual hatred was caused when Spike, along with Drusilla and Darla, slaughtered the Romani gypsy tribe in retribution for pains suffered upon Angelus. The clan in question was favored by Dracula, as they taught him all manners of magic and trickery in exchange for protection.

The subject again wants it noted that Dracula is a “bloody nancy boy who owes him eleven pounds”.

In 1977 Spike fought and slew the Slayer Nikki Wood, in New York, aboard a subway train. At this point he gained the moniker “The Slayer of Slayers”. It is unclear as to why Spike chose not to drink this particular Slayer’s blood after defeating her, as he had his previous Slayer.

Even when pressed, the subject refuses to reveal his reasons.

Spike is seen as something of a paradox in the demon community. Where he is exalted for his prowess and charisma and killer instincts and his frequent challenges towards traditional convention and limitations, he is silently shunned for his continuing embrace of elements of humanity such as love, loyalty, and honor. Spike is not above leaving anonymous flowers to show respect to his fallen victims or nemeses. Many of Spikes actions, good or evil, are motivated by his ability to love, maybe not wisely but truly.

The subject insists we use the term “love’s bitch”.

One of Spike’s more noticeable personality traits is his lust for violence and brawling. Despite this, he is highly intelligent and has skills of insight and analysis, particularly in regards to relationships and the human condition, strategy, psychology, literature and linguistics. In addition to possessing vampire powers and weakness, Spike’s age and experience makes him a highly effective, skilled, and versatile fighter in both armed and unarmed combat. He is highly proficient in a plethora of martial arts, as well as fencing, riding, and shooting. Although capable of developing sound battle strategies, Spike often looses patience with anything more complex than an outright attack.

The subject confesses that he had a plan. A good, smart, well laid plan; but that he got bored, so if we could please leave off the subject, he does not have ADD.

Spike is also highly experienced in picking locks, pockets, and hotwiring just about every vehicle build by man. He also makes a mean chili.

The subject assures me that it is “to die for but that it will be a cold day in hell…” I shall refrain from adding the rest of his comments regarding his culinary skills.

Spike is an avid fan of Sid Vicious’ band ‘The Sex Pistols’ and the punk band ‘The Ramones’. In the 1980’s Spike’s punk look was copied by the artist Billy Idol, a performer, the subject admits, who can at least sing and has good taste. He also has an appreciation for human food and drink, and frequently enjoys his blood not served from human throats, to be spiced with added flavors and textures. Spike is a smoker.

The subject would like it to be know that he has a particular fondness for the following:

-English Stout
-Jack Daniels
-Hot Chocolate “with those little marshmallows”
-Buffalo Wings
-Onion Blossoms
-Weetabix and Burba Weed “to make that revolting bagged blood palatable”
-Morley fags

Spike is in possession of a dry, sarcastic sense of humor. He comes complete with a swaggering posture, feline tendencies, and enjoys living by no one’s rule but his own. He has a habit of making pithy and sometimes scathingly hurtful and glib remarks.

The subject would like it written that though he has purred once or twice in the past, he is not a “bloody cat”. Once he was informed that was not what was meant by ‘feline tendencies’ the subject demanded that his previous comment be stricken from the record. I have chosen not to do so.

Joyce shuffled the papers back. Looking up she noticed that she had been sitting there, reading for some time. Stretching she got up and began completing the tasks she had set before her earlier. While she worked she mused about her newfound knowledge. She was curious and amused. Spike seemed like he would be quite the addition to their family. She wondered what had happened to his sire and vampire family, and how exactly did he come to be in that pet shop to begin with. With a history such as his, she felt she should’ve been more wary of welcoming such a monster into their lives. But strangely she didn’t. It seems like that shop girl was more reassuring then she had thought. Shrugging it off she decided to tackle the mail next.

Apparently, they were moving.

Joyce wanted to growl in contempt. ‘Perhaps Spike is starting to rub off on me already.’ True their house right now was much too large for just the three of them, and filled with various un-pleasant memories. Add on that Buffy had just been expelled, a fresh new start somewhere else was rather appealing and probably necessary.

But Sunnydale? In California, yes, and only two hours away from Los Angeles, but still. It was a suburb on top of a gate way to hell, in more ways than one. Joyce had been born a socialite, and yes its true those days are now past, but to be forced to relocate to soccer mom territory. She wasn’t sure she had it in her. Did they expect her to commute to L.A. every day? What was she to do? ‘No.. What would Spike do?’ she mused, a wicked smile cracking across her face. ‘He wouldn’t put up with it, not without benefits I’m sure.’

Not stopping to think about what possible benefits her future vampire-in-law would have in her life, nor to think about the time zone differences, Joyce reached for her phone and dialed the number on the bottom of the letter. Feeling smug, Joyce called collect.

“Mr. Travers? Good afternoon, this is Joyce. Joyce Summers, Buffy your slayer’s mother. No I don’t know what time it is there but we have much to talk about and it shall not wait another minute.”

By the time she had gotten off the phone, Joyce was a new woman. Yes, they were moving to Sunnydale, California. No it wouldn’t be on her dime. By the time she finished with that English blowhard, he didn’t have enough hot hair to fill his head with let alone sputter on anything other than” Yes, yes, it will be taken care of madam.” They would have a nice house, in a good neighborhood. One complete with covered porches on the front and rear entrances, a basement, and two baths. She also arranged for the Council to find her a nice new gallery to relocate to, so no long commutes for her. Buffy’s schooling would be entirely up to Joyce to arrange, but the best part was the house. It would never cost them anything to actually own every bit and piece and shingle of that house. For as long as Buffy was the Slayer, she would have a home for herself and for Spike. Never having to worry about utilities and mortgages was a blessing. Joyce was even alert enough to have an emergency fund made accessible to cover any un-explainable repair costs.

Proud that she had done the best to provide her baby with a future, Joyce grabbed her coat and purse and marched out the door with a big smile splashed across her face. She was going shopping. ‘Let’s see, I’ll need to get some toiletries and blood for Spike, some masculine bed linens, oh and a nice white dress for Buffy’s wedding. I believe the shopkeeper said something natural like linen. Oh, maybe a cake too!’ A woman on a mission, Joyce hit the boutiques.





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