Author's Chapter Notes:
Chapters starts back in more of Spike’s POV and how Joyce came to learn what happened.

Thanks to Ariel for betaing and helping me get this chapter into top shape; and to Confused Muse for letting me bounce ideas off her. You guys rock!
Chapter Seven: Lucky Guess
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“What in the hell happened to you?” Nikole demanded as she entered the crypt from the hidden sewer entrance. Nikole had glimpsed the damage that had been done to his face and cringed.

“No need to yell pet, both of us have enhanced hearing,” Spike replied. He was currently sitting on the edge of his bed, lacing up his boots.

“Spike, what happened?” Nikole sat down next to him on the bed, her hand reaching out to tilt his head towards her.

“Got in a spot of trouble with a demon, no big,” he answered, roughly pulling away from her and standing up. If it wasn’t enough that the Slayer wasn’t already tap dancing in the rest of his life, now he was bloody talking like her. His agitated mood made him grab for his packet of cigarettes, lighting one up.

“This demon doesn’t go by the name Buffy, does it?”

Spike cursed his luck as he felt Nikole’s eyes scrutinize him. “Now luv, I never said anything about the Slayer.”

“You didn’t have to,” she commented with a grim smile.

“Bloody witch,” Spike mumbled around his cigarette.

“Hey! I resemble that remark! Now, the truth please.” Nikole stood up, crossing her arms. Spike frowned as he almost felt Slayer-like vibes coming off of her. But that couldn’t be right, she was a vampire. Her expression told him she wasn’t going to budge or let it go until he told her.

“Alright, Buffy came in after you’d left and we exchanged some pleasantries. Then I almost kissed her and she hit me, happy now?” he growled.

“Not really. That little bitch. She needs to get her ass kicked and some sense knocked into her.”

“Couldn’t agree with ya more.”

“Are you going to tell Joyce?” Nikole asked out of the blue, the fringes of a plan starting in her head.

“Of course not. What’d I do that for?” Spike asked, his eyes searching hers for a motive. Not once had he mentioned the Slayer’s mum.

“So she can learn a damn lesson that’s why! If you let her get away with it this time, there’s nothing to stop her later on. She’ll think it’s okay and it’ll keep happening.”

“Look, the bint's got enough on her plate without having to worry about her mum getting on her case because of me and a lil’ bruise. I’ve had worse and probably will again. Just let it go, yeah?”

Nikole could tell he was in defensive mode, especially where Buffy was concerned. She was just going to have to do something to make sure that Buffy got the full brunt of her actions.

“Fine,” she finally said with a sigh, pretending to let it go. “Think you could lead me to the Magic Box through the sewers?”

Their trek through the sewers was quiet. Spike was contemplating what he was going to do when he saw Joyce later; Nikole was chanting in her head, a simple spell to make Joyce suspicious of Spike’s excuses and for Spike to be unable to lie to her when Joyce figured it out. Doing the incantation in her head required her to do it longer and she mentally uttered the last word as Spike stopped.

“Here ya are pet,” he said with a nod up.

“Will you at least think about telling Joyce?” Nikole asked as she placed a hand on a rung of the ladder.

“I’ll think about it, but I’m not promisin’ anything,” he consented. “I’m off to return the thermos to Joyce and see if the Nibblet needs help on her French.”

“Thanks Spike,” Nikole said tenderly as he turned and left.

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Spike stopped as he came to the ladder leading to the manhole cover situated in the middle of Revello Drive. He quickly ascended the ladder, waiting just beneath it, using his senses to make sure no one was near and his ears to make sure no cars were coming. When he knew that coast was clear, he pushed up the cover and climbed out.

The Summers’ house was lit up and inviting and as Spike got closer he could hear only one heartbeat from inside, which meant the Slayer’s mum was home. He snuck around to the back door, peeking into the kitchen and sure enough, Joyce was bustling around, alternating between checking the contents of the stove and the oven.

He rapped his knuckles against the wood before opening the door, Joyce whipping around to face him. The salad bowl she held in her hands dropped as she saw his face. With vamp speed, Spike rushed forward, catching the bowl before it could hit the floor.

“Your face,” she mumbled while Spike set the bowl on the counter, his eyes set downward.

“It’s nothing, just got into a bit of a tumble with a demon,” he replied, still not looking into her eyes.

“That’s not the truth, is it?” The effects of the Nikole’s spell was working its magic, making Joyce suspicious of Spike’s answer.

“What the heck is it with you chits today and not listening to what I’m saying. I told ya, got into a fight with a demon, that’s it,” he huffed, sitting down at the counter and setting the thermos on its surface with a thump.

“Spike, please don’t lie to me. Did Buffy do this to you?” Joyce asked, leaning across the island, latching onto the thermos to keep her hands busy.

Spike’s mouth opened and closed. How he was going to get out of this one, he didn’t know, but even as he tried to form an excuse, he found he couldn’t. Joyce’s gaze told him just how vulnerable and open she was, and he didn’t have the heart to lie to her. As much pain as it would save her, he couldn’t lie. Something niggled in the back of his mind, but he brushed it back for the moment in light of the situation. He hung his head, not able to tell Joyce that yes, her daughter had inflicted the multitude of colors on his face.

Joyce let out a breath, her body shuddering, taking his silence as her answer. Her emotions were a mix of anger and shame, and disappointment. Lord knew that she hadn’t raised Buffy to be the way she was towards Spike and Spike alone.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized as the tears sprung to her eyes. Spike had smelled them before they had fallen and he was up and around the counter in a blink of an eye, wrapping his arm around Joyce.

“Oh no, it’s not your fault. Buffy, she…she just thinks she gets to make the laws sometimes because she’s the Slayer. She’s use to solving things out with her fists. Being a Slayer is a tough gig Joyce, ‘specially with it being forced upon her like it was.”

“But that doesn’t excuse her from doing what she did to you!” she cried and Spike could feel her shame quickly turning towards hot anger.

“I know,” he said quietly, pulling away and letting Joyce regain her composure. “But she’s doing the best she can, yeah? Sometimes she just doesn’t know her own strength,” he tried to joke but Joyce only gave him a sad smile in return.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” she asked, the remnants of her tears gone but Spike could feel the anger pulsing from her. She made a good show of hiding it but it shimmered just beneath the surface, giving her eyes that same look he’d seen her with when she’d smacked him on the head with the axe; at least this time it wasn’t directed at him. He couldn’t help but feel appreciative at the protectiveness she was showing towards him.

“I don’t know if that’s such a hot idea…”

“Nonsense, this is my house and I will invite whom ever I like to dinner. So would you care to join us?”

“Sure, been a while since I’ve had some good cookin’,” he answered with a genuine smile. He knew Joyce was going to deal with this whether he was there or not, this way he could stay and hopefully lessen the blow that the slayer's mum was going to deal out to her daughter.

Joyce smiled back at him, then turned back around, returning to her pots and pans.

“Where’s the Nibblet?”

“She’s over at Janice’s. She’ll home before dinner.”

“Anything I can do to help?” he asked motioning towards the stove.

“No, just sit and keep me company till Buffy gets here. Then we’ll be having a little chat.”

They talked about her gallery and Dawn, and Spike told her about Nikole, leaving out the details of the Key and Glory. It wasn’t soon before Spike felt Buffy approach, even before the door made a sound. By the feels of it, Nikole was with her too. He watched Joyce’s back stiffen as the front door open and Buffy yelled she was home. Joyce seemed to transform in front of his eyes. The anger she was radiating was palpable as she turned around, her face set. He made a mental note not to ever piss off Joyce as he felt Buffy come up behind him, her mother crossing her arms.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” she questioned.

“What?” came Buffy’s confused voice.

“It’s alright Joyce, no need to worry ‘bout me,” Spike mumbled, not daring to turn around.

“Oh no, we need to deal with this.”

“What is this?” Buffy cried.

Joyce looked at Spike and commanded him to turn around. “Spike, show her.” Spike looked away but Joyce was unrelenting. “William, don’t make me tell you again. Show her.”

There was something about being called by your real name in that mom tone that had him obeying. With a sigh, he turned, his eyes glancing briefly at Nikole before landing on Buffy.

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Buffy gulped as her mind searched for words. Her mother continued to stare her down, her foot tapping impatiently on the floor.

“What do you mean me?” she quickly said. “How do you know I did that? Could have been a demon.” She glared daggers at Spike, how dare he sell her out.

“Buffy Anne Summers, don’t you dare lie to me, not about something like this! Spike never said one word,” she exclaimed and Buffy’s eyes snapped back to Spike, seeing his bowed head. “I took the great leap and guess what? I was disappointed by my answers. Now young lady, what do you have to say for yourself?” she demanded.

Buffy knew she was caught, and that Spike had done nothing to get her there, it had been all her. Everything came crashing down on her and she felt the eyes start to water. Spike peeked up at her and she could see how colored the area where she had hit him was. “I…I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry,” she croaked out, her voice cracking, barely above a whisper.

Her mother didn’t seem too happy with her apology. Her eyes narrowed for a second before they landed on Nikole. “You must be Nikole,” she said warmly, her whole demeanor changing. “Would you kindly help me set the table?”

Nikole must have nodded yes because Joyce grabbed the utensils and plates sitting on the counter and exited the kitchen, giving Buffy a meaningful look as she began to walk towards the dining room but stopped just beside her. “You and I will be having a talk later, but you will apologize to Spike and mean it, do you hear me?”

Buffy nodded her head and her mother left with a glance over her shoulder at Spike. Silence permeated the air, stretching between the two fake blonds.

“Sorry ‘bout your Mum. She took a lucky guess and I couldn’t lie to her,” Spike finally said, standing up from the stool. “I’ll just go.”

“No,” Buffy started, taking a step forward. Her body was shaking in horror at what she’d done, and though the magnitude of the damage was more than she expected, hitting him like she had was something she’d promised herself she’d never do, even to Spike. “I’m sorry Spike…”

Spike’s eyes immediately rose to lock with hers. He could see how shaken she was. It had really hit her what she had done and she felt guilty for it. As much as he knew what she did was wrong, he couldn’t bear to see the tears pooling in her eyes.

“No worries luv. Vamp healing here, should be gone in a day or two,” he reassured her, earning him a small smile.

Buffy took another step forward, lifting her hand. She drew a finger across his cheek, her touch as light as a feather, barely brushing against it. She looked up to see him studying her, his gaze resting on her lips and she subconsciously licked them. Spike let out a small groan and Buffy retracted her hand, thinking she’d hurt him. He caught her hand before it got far, holding it steadfast in his.

“Sorry,” she stammered.

“It’s okay pet, you didn’t hurt me,” he whispered, his eyes still riveted on her lips.

Buffy felt her skin flush but didn’t make to move out of his grasp. Her own eyes flickered up to see that his eyes had darkened before going back to his lips. She felt anything but gross in Spike’s grip, not like she had with Riley. Why she felt so at ease with him she didn’t question at the moment. Why she was letting him hold her hand? She didn’t question that either. Something was compelling her to move closer and she did so, the gap between their bodies reduced to less than an inch.

“Spike…I…” she trailed off, not at all sure what she was going to say. She leaned forward, her lips hovering above his again.

“Buffy!” Her mom called out, breaking the spell that had enraptured the two. Both sets of eyes went wide as they practically jumped apart from each other, Spike giving a little cough, turning away from Buffy to ease the effects of her close proximity.

“Yeah mom?” Buffy yelled back, feeling her cheeks heat up and tried hard not to think about how Spike had affected her body, like how her whole body had tingled when he held her hand. And she was definitely not thinking about how she just almost kissed him.

“Come help set the table. I’ve got to check on the food,” Joyce instructed as she entered the kitchen. She looked between the two, frowning when she saw the distance between them. “Did you settle everything?” she asked coolly.

“Yup, we’re good, right?” Buffy said finally looking at Spike.

“Yeah luv, we’re fine,” he replied.

Buffy smiled and went into the dinning room, noticing the 5 plates on the table, Nikole still working on the utensils. “Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Why are there five plates on the table?”

“Spike’s staying for dinner too,” she answered.

Oh boy, she thought, dinner just got a lot more interesting.





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