Chapter Six
“Mom, can I ask you a question?” Buffy asked later that afternoon before Spike and Giles had arrived home and long after she had left Doyle. She sat on the bed in Joyce’s bedroom as her mom unloaded some laundry.
“Sure, honey, what is it?”
“What exactly happened with Drusilla? I mean, I know she went crazy, or rather
already was crazy, but what was it exactly?”
Joyce stopped what she was doing and stared at her daughter. “Has William told you
anything?”
“Some things. Just that she was crazy, he had to drive her to the institution and that she
had been unfaithful to him.”
Joyce nodded, “Well, yes, that is the sum of it.’
“Do you think he feels . . . responsible? I mean, I really think it troubled him a great
deal. Hence him coming home and the marathon phone calls he had with you.”
“Honey, it’s hard when you love someone and they become ill. She wasn’t of sound
mind and your brother spent a lot of time caring for her. I know he does feel that he could have
done more for her, that if he had maybe she wouldn’t have become so ill. He knows though
that there was nothing he could do.”
“So they don’t know what it was?”
“’Fraid not honey. That’s why she’s getting help now. To find out.”
“Has he said anything about it? Is he torturing himself?”
“He hasn’t said anything really. Just an overall sense I get from him.”
“Well, you always were very sensitive to William and his moods.”
“Yeah, I guess I was. Kind of forget the little things like that.”
Joyce patted her arm. “I remember.”
“Mom, can you not tell him that I was asking about Drusilla? I don’t want him to know that I was snooping. I told him I’d leave it alone.”
“Won’t say a word.”
“Say a word bout what?” a voice drawled from the doorway.
Both heads snapped to find Spike in the doorway dusty and with a sheen of sweat on
his forehead.
“I was just telling mom how I really think there’s no hope for your geekiness. She
agreed, but we were planning on keeping it on the down low.”
Spike chuckled and shook his head.
“How was the first day, honey?” Joyce asked, smiling at him.
“Good. Hot, tiring. . . but not bad. Hey Buffy, do you want to go to The Bronze tonight?
Xander, my boss invited me to hang out and play some pool. I figured if you wanted to get
some of your mates together, we could all go together, make it more fun.”
Buffy stood, “Oh I see. Because hanging out with your baby sister all alone is not fun
enough,” she teased as she started toward him.
His eyes widened. “No, Buffy, I didn’t mean it like that. I just remember—“
She looked up at him, “God, you’re easy.”
He gave her a look. “Brat.”
She smiled cheekily, “I know! Are you hungry? I was thinking we could order a pizza.”
He smiled warmly, “Sounds good luv.”
“I’ll order,” and she bounded down the stairs.
“Will honey?”
Spike looked over at Joyce. “Yeah?”
“Everything all right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Just wondering. Mom’s worry.”
Spike nodded, “Everything is just. . . peachy.”
“I’m just saying, what was wrong with what you had on earlier?” Spike asked as he and
Buffy entered The Bronze where they’d agreed to meet their ‘mates.’
“Spike, I was dressed like a bum. I’m not coming here dressed like a bum,” Buffy told
him.
“You didn’t look like a bum.”
“Okay, a tomboy.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“What’s wrong with this?” she asked, gesturing to her outfit.
Nothing if you want me stay hard all night, Spike thought as he gazed at her jeans that
flared at the bottom, but hugged her ass like it was a second skin. Then there was the low
dipped, sleeveless white top. The boots she wore completed the look and God, she was
gorgeous.
“Do you dress like this for school?” he asked casually.
“No, Giles, I don’t.”
“Hey, no need to get cheeky, luv.”
“I see Doyle and Willow,” she said and waved, gazing at table across the room. Doyle
was waving madly at them.
They made their way to the table, Spike glaring daggers at all the tossers who dared
ogle Buffy on the way. She, of course, was perfectly oblivious. He was beginning to wonder if
Doyle’s friendship was a shield so that she didn’t have to deal with interest from the opposite
sex. She had yet to mention any boys she was interested in and when he’d asked Joyce over the
years about what Buffy was up to, she had never mentioned her dating anyone. Thank God.
Just the thought had his mind reeling. Even across the coast, he’d had to fight his jealousy. It
was positively unreal what she did to him without even realizing it.
He felt torn. He wanted to fight what he felt and yet couldn’t stop himself from seeking
her company. It was just like when they were kids. She always wanted to be with him and he
would allow it for a time until being around her and not being able to act on how he felt
became too much. Then he’d tell her to ‘get lost’. He knew she always wondered what she’d
done to make him angry, but it was himself he was angry at, not her. It was he whom he
blamed for . . . He wanted to scream, he wanted to tell her, tell her so she’d tell him he was the
one who was crazy and tell him to ‘get lost.’ If she gave voice to it, then maybe it’d sink in. But
when she looked up at him with those expressive green eyes all full of tenderness and
adoration. . . he was helpless. Of course its adoration, you git, you’re her older brother.
BROTHER. The voice in his head was good about reminding him when he got just a little too
close to her.
He needed to get just a little pissed and focus on something else. He’d keep his
brotherly distance and let her have her fun, and, if some git tried to make a pass at her, he’d let
them. If only to drive the point home that Buffy wasn’t his and never could be his.
“Hey Spike?” Xander waved a hand in front of his face.
Spike blinked and looked at him, “Yeah?”
“Where are you, man? I’ve been trying to get your attention to tell you to make your
shot. What are you looking at?”
“Nothing, I just—Does that guy look like he’s about to put his grubby paws on Buffy?”
Xander raised a brow. “Uh, seeing as he’s standing with his hands IN his pockets, no.”
“They’ve been talking for a long time now.”
“And?”
“And . . . My shot you say?”
Xander stared at him. “Stepsister you say?”
“What?”
“Spike, you’ve been watching your ‘stepsister’ all night. When you haven’t been making
comments about the guys that have come around her, you’ve been watching her as if you’d like
to devour her. What’s going on?”
“You’re off your rocker,” Spike huffed and focused his attention back at the pool table.
“Am I? Or am I sensing some lusty feelings for her?”
Spike glared at him.
“Listen, I’m not here to judge. . . Well, not much anyway. I’m just saying that you better
figure that shit out. I mean, you live in the same house with her right?”
Spike nodded slowly.
“And you’re all a happy nuclear family right?”
Spike looked down.
“It’s a little . . . gross.”
Spike wouldn’t look up. He stared at the pool table, ashamed.
“I’m not saying that I wouldn’t—“
Spike looked up and glared daggers.
“I’m just saying that. . . You know it’d probably be wrong of you to do something
right?”
Spike looked down again, feeling suddenly that he wanted to cry. And hide.
“Maybe you should, I don’t know, get a girlfriend?”
“Yeah, they’re just lining up for me, Harris. Got a string of em’. Did you not hear me
when I said I just got divorced not too long ago?” Spike snapped at him.
“I’m just saying that maybe instead of ogling Buffy and being all overprotective, maybe
you should be checking out the buffet of women here tonight. I’ve noticed quite a few looking
your way.”
Spike’s eyes narrowed, “Like who?”
“Oh, like that one,” he pointed to the bar to a brunette, “the red head across the room
and the—hey, the blond that looks like she’s on her way over now.”
Spike’s head whipped to where Xander was pointing and watched as a blond, with long
flowing locks much like Buffy’s sauntered over with a smirk on her red heart shaped mouth.
She eyed him like he was prey. Spike wasn’t sure how he felt about that. The smoldering look
she was giving him made him uncomfortable—which was saying a lot.
“Hello gorgeous,” the woman purred at him, running a hand down his arm. “I’ve been
watching you.”
Glancing over at Buffy who was still talking to white bread, and then to Xander who
was giving him a thumbs up, Spike took a deep breath and smiled. “Hi, I’m Spike. What’s your
name?”
“Harmony. Care to dance?”
Spike smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. His heart was just not into this. His heart
was into . . . Well, it was into someone he just couldn’t have. Xander was right; if he planned to
shake this obsession with Buffy, he should start by finding someone he COULD have. A
healthy relationship, yes, that’s what he needed.
But was it healthy to choose a girl that sort of looked like Buffy?
“Buffy, is that Harmony Kendall draped over your Spike like a second skin?”
Doyle asked and pointed to the dance floor.
Buffy’s attention immediately piqued, looked toward the floor and stared at the
spectacle of Spike and Harmony entwined together on the dance floor. She gulped, a feeling
foreign to her bubbling up inside. It made her skin hot, it made the room spin and it made her
want to yank the slut off of Spike.
“Yeah, it appears that way,” Buffy murmured.
“Doesn’t that make you just want to claw her eyes out?” Doyle asked in her ear.
“Nope, not at all,” she said turning to Doyle with her arms crossed.
“No?” Doyle pressed. “Not even a little?”
“If I did, which I don’t, it would only be because he is my brother and Harmony is –“
“A barracuda?” Doyle supplied.
“And I wouldn’t want him to get hurt. Or contract an STD.”
“Well, hold on to your hats gentlemen because it looks as if Slutney of Sluttown is
moving in for the kill,” Doyle observed.
Buffy turned in time to see Spike in a heavy lip lock with Buffy’s long time nemesis. Her heart dropped to her toes.
“Doyle?” she said in a small voice.
“Yeah honey?”
“I wanna go home.”
“Do you want to claw her eyes out yet?”
“I – I just want to go home.”
“All right, Buffy, let’s go home.”
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