[Reviews - 429]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 1852 times

- Text Size +




Author's Chapter Notes:
A thousand thanks to Brat, Debbie, Amelia-Jane, SpaceLord, jt, MidnightGirl, Kimber, DaniD, teasha, Klai, Deb and Slayer_rock_chick, for reviewing; and to Brat and MarzBar, for betaing this chapter for me.


Again, sorry for the delay in posting, but things have finally slowed down for me on RL, so I have time to actually listen to what my poor muse has been trying to whisper in my ear.
Glossary:

Mustia is a hypocritical person. In Spanish, it's equivalent to mosquita muerta, who would generally refer to a person that does underhanded things, generally to take a man from another woman.

Chapter 37

“Just remember, do not even look at her while we’re around the others,” María said to Spike, placing a hand on his forearm as they all began walking back to the house. “Otherwise they’ll know immediately about you two and we don’t want that…yet.”

“Of course, don’t worry about it.” He nodded, turning to look at Buffy who was walking by his other side. She smiled tenderly at him as she lowered her hand from his forearm until she laced her fingers with his. He smiled back at her, trying not to show how worried he was over what María might want to talk to him about. The woman hadn’t been as warm towards him as she’d been the last time they saw each other.

Did she know or even suspected about what had happened between him and Aimée? He had the nagging feeling that she did, they’d gone over all her other objections to their relationship on their last meeting, all except Aimée. And anyone that knew him in Galveston could have told Buffy’s nana about them; they weren’t exactly discreet while it lasted, well, at least where he was concerned. He almost laughed out loud as he remembered the peasant costume Aimée wore every time she went to meet him, as if that actually would take attention away from her instead of bringing it. He should have seen that as a clue of her true intentions but no, he’d been very naïve regarding Aimée. He could see it now, she just wanted to have fun with him, she never cared for him—not that he cared any more for her than she did for him, but at least he’d been willing to marry her up until the moment he’d seen her sister. Dammit! He wanted to kick himself for his impulsive nature. If he hadn’t come to Campo Real as he did, if he’d actually thought things through before acting, then he wouldn’t be in so much trouble as he was now. He should have told Buffy all that had happened with her sister when he had the chance, but no, as always he had to do things his way and as always his good luck was bound to end right when he was about to get what he truly wanted more than anything in life: Buffy. She’d been so understanding, so sweet to him, even when he didn’t deserve it, especially after thinking that she’d been capable of marrying his brother after promising she’d marry him. And now María wanted to talk to him and had thrown him that unnerving smile. Not good, definitely not good.

He felt he should be thanking his lucky stars that María actually wanted to talk to him about it before telling Buffy anything. But, then again, would he be able to convince Maria or Buffy that whatever he had with Aimée was over and done with, especially if Aimee insisted on acknowledging their nonexistent relationship? God, why hadn’t he met Buffy first? Things would be much easier if events had transpired that way.

When they finally reached the main house, he shared a last longing look with Buffy before releasing her hand, his heart swelling at the love that shone in her eyes and that he hoped she could see reciprocated in his, before pushing the front door open, letting them pass inside and following them into the house and then into the living room.

* ~ * ~ *

Darla was trying to appear as serene as possible as she waited for Rodrigo’s bastard (because to her he’d never be anything but that) to make his appearance in the living room. She’d been dreading this moment ever since Angel had told her about offering him the post of Administrator, she just hoped that he had changed through the years and that the resemblance he’d borne to his father when he was younger had disappeared somehow; otherwise who knew what reaction that would elicit in Joyce. The last thing she needed was to be forced to recognize that William was Rodrigo’s son or to have to deal with Snyder’s exigencies. As it was it seemed that all that was left was for Rodrigo De Alcazar to return from the dead to make her disgrace complete.
.

And on second thought, this could be the perfect excuse to back down from any deal she’d made with Snyder. It was his own fault that William was back in Campo Real, if he would have taken care of matters as he’d promised, this never would have happened and even if he told anything to Angel, he would surely believe her word over a bitter man’s that had just been demoted, wouldn’t he?

She was pulled out from her thoughts as Elizabeth and María entered the room, followed closely by a man that was so alike in looks to her late husband that for a moment she imagined it was him, before she reminded herself that he was dead and buried, or at least she hoped he was. She started to catalogue the little things in which they didn’t look alike, like the hair or the color of his eyes. ‘Oh God, what am I going to do now? He’s the practically the spitting image of his father,’ she thought, a shiver running through her back as she finally gathered her courage to look toward the other people in the living room to gauge their reactions.

Joyce, for once, was rendered speechless, except for the surprise gasp she’d been unable to hold when she’d first seen William, she hadn’t said or done anything, except alternatively look between William and Darla, not knowing what to think or say. ‘Thank God for small mercies,’ Darla mused, hoping the woman wouldn’t start speaking before they were alone. She would have to confide in her, not that she wanted to, but knowing her sister-in-law it would be for the best or she’d find herself in a bigger mess than she already was.

Aimée’s reaction was…interesting to say the least. Her pallor had turned almost greenish and this time she really looked as if she might faint for real, because there was no way that Darla believed that she had fainted that first time. Did that have anything to do with William or had she recognized him? No, that was not probable, she was too young when Rodrigo died, so then… did she know William from before? It was too much of a coincidence that the girl had ‘fainted’ when she’d seen William outside; Darla made a mental note to investigate this issue further; Could he be the man that had taken her not-so-dear daughter-in-law’s virginity? And if so, what was she going to do about it? Angel was so…different now, she just wasn’t sure of how he would react if he knew, so maybe for the moment it would be best to keep quiet and wait.

Angel, in the meantime, oblivious to the tension that had set in the room as a dark cloud, called over to his friend. “William, I see María found you,” he smiled. “Come, I want to introduce you to the rest of the family.” He walked to where his mother stood. “Mother, you remember William, don’t you?”

‘Unfortunately.’, she thought, but knowing she had to keep the appearances in front of her son, at least for the time being, she answered with a tight smile, “Good morning, William. Welcome to Campo Real.” She extended her right hand to him, shuddering with something akin to revulsion when Spike took it and gave it a kiss.

“Morning, Ma’am, I see you haven’t changed much since we last saw each other,” Spike answered, looking right through her act and chuckling when she pulled her hand away from his as fast as she could. No, she definitely hadn’t changed at all. Still the same ice queen that she’d been before. If nothing else, just knowing that he could make her this uncomfortable was enough to make him feel better about being in Campo Real.

“And this is my aunt, Joyce Summers.” Angel smiled at the still shell-shocked Joyce. “May I introduce Mr. William…er…” he stopped, looking back at William for help.

“Giles…er, William Giles, at your service,” he said, throwing an apologetic look towards Buffy, that he hoped was not too obvious or who knew what María might do to him. But what could he do? He wanted, no, needed to make a good impression on Joyce Summers and claiming he was a De Alcazar to his hopefully very soon to be mother-in-law in front of the brother that didn’t knew of his existence and his father’s wife that judging by her reception was very aware of who he was? Yes, he could see how well that could go, as in not.

“Giles? Are you related to Mr. Rupert Giles?” Joyce asked, confused as never before. How could he be related to Mr. Giles when he looked so much like Rodrigo De Alcazar? She decided not to ask about that though, at least not to them, there’d be time for that when she had a moment alone with Darla.

“Hmm, yes, he’s my…er, adoptive father,” he supplied. Well, that wasn’t exactly a lie, was it? After all, as soon as he signed the papers he’d be Mr. Giles’ adoptive son.

“William is Campo Real’s new Administrator, Aunt Joyce, and a very good friend of mine,” Angel stated, turning to Aimée. “And of course, you’ve met my beautiful bride, Aimée, already.”

He threw a curt nod her way. “Of course, I hope you’re feeling better, doña Aimée?” he asked. Whatever did he find appealing in her before? She was nothing compared to Buffy.

“Eh, I-I…yes, I’m feeling a little better, but perhaps I should go rest in my room now. Would you take me there, Angel?” The contempt that had laced his voice when he’d said ‘doña’ hadn’t been lost to her and she’d had more than enough for the day. William wasn’t happy and she had to find a way to convince him of continuing their relationship. There was no way she’d settle with her husband’s very poor performance after having him, and even if she had to beg, she’d have him again.

“Sure, darling,” Angel replied, carrying her in his arms, before turning towards his sister-in-law. “Elizabeth, would you mind showing William to a room on the east wing of the house?” He waited until she nodded in agreement, before continuing, “Did you bring your baggage with you, my friend? I don’t think I saw anything outside, but I might be wrong.”

“Er, no, I was sort of in a hurry to get here,” he said, throwing a heated look to Buffy, who blushed as she noticed.

María rolled her eyes at the exchange. ‘Of course, don’t worry about it,’ she mocked his words of before in her mind, as she thanked God that the others seemed to be too preoccupied with their own thoughts to notice the looks William and Elizabeth had been sharing.

“If you could spare a peon for a few hours, maybe he could bring my things from The Sa…er, from my ship,” he corrected at the last moment. Yes, it would make a good impression on Buffy’s mother to know that her daughter’s intended had a ship named ‘The Satan’, so good that she’d be the first to lock her daughter in the convent and throw away the key.

“Sure, man. Elizabeth can help you with that, too, won’t you, dear?” he said and without waiting for an answer he left the room with his bride, never noticing that said bride’s face had changed from the almost greenish pallor it taken when William had entered the living room to a not-so-becoming livid red as she’d noticed the looks William and the mustia of her sister had been exchanging; or the growl that William hadn’t been able to contain when he’d heard Angel call his Buffy: ‘dear’.

tbc

So, with that out of the way, next few chapters will deal with some events that will lead to Buffy and Spike's inevitable wedding, doesn't mean that the road won't be rocky though, so please just bear with me and my muse?





You must login (register) to review.