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A/N (here because the word limit thing is weird): Hello everyone! This is Panta_Rei updating for Suzee while she's on vacation. Enjoy the chapter--and don't forget prove her wrong about how many reviews she'll come back to by leaving her one. =P

Chapter 4

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-- Okay, so maybe given the present situation—and company—that wasn’t the best phrase to be repeating, but fuck!

Hearing that Joyce’s daughter was called Buffy was one thing. Hearing that Buffy lived here, even allowing his brain to conjure up the notion that it was the same girl—that was one thing.

But hearing her? Hearing that voice that he’d heard tens upon tens of times…that was another thing.

Buffy, his Buffy, was just a few feet away.

And she didn’t realize that he was here, he concluded with a start.

And she wasn’t going to either, he decided.

Not by any fault of her own, or any oversight; he just wasn’t going to let her find out. At least not while they were all in a room together.

Besides, how was he supposed to know what she’d think of him? How was he to know if she’d think he planned it all out?

What if she thought he’d orchestrated the entire thing? From talking to her in the first place to being here tonight?

She’d hate him.

And he couldn’t have that.

So he had to think.

‘Come on, Spike. Think!’ he ordered himself silently. ‘There has to be a way you can stop the girl from recognizing you.’

In the back of his mind though—or maybe not so much in the back, but more in the middle—was the thought, or rather the fear, that she either wouldn’t recognize him, confirming his fears that he’d been nothing more to her than another caller; or that she would recognize him and just want him gone.

So he had to think of a way to both stop her from recognizing him and stop him from knowing if she didn’t recognize him.

And seeing as how his voice was the key factor in the whole arrangement, well, he’d just have to eliminate that factor.

He, William Giles (also known as Spike), who, since he’d been a little boy, had never been known as a quiet man for any period of time, was going to not talk.

For an entire night.

God, they were going to think he was crazy.


“Sorry I took so long,” Buffy continued to explain, “I couldn’t find the dress I’d set out for tonight and I didn’t want to wear just any old thing because, you know, this is important for Giles and he really wants to impress—Oh, he’s here.” Buffy noticed the second man sitting in the room as soon as she turned the corner—and promptly blushed a deep red.

“Buffy, dear, I’d like you to meet Rupert’s younger brother, William.”

“Nice to meet you, William,” Buffy said sweetly, trying to tone down her blush and not act like she’d just nearly made a fool of herself. “I’m glad you decided to come to visit.”

William started to say that it was nice to meet her before he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to be talking. So, instead of saying anything, he just nodded and smiled. Buffy just looked at him strangely, surprised he hadn’t responded, but Joyce once again cut in and spared him having to seem too strange.

“Actually, Buffy,” her mother began carefully, “we were actually thinking—Rupert and I that is,” she threw her husband in there effortlessly, “that perhaps William could stay in the pool house for a little while.

“There are two bedrooms,” she added when it looked like her daughter was going to object somehow. “He won’t be in your way at all. And besides,” she basically blackmailed, “he’s family.”

‘Oh, God!’ Buffy thought frantically. ‘How am I going to get out of this? He can’t live there! Sure, there are two bedrooms,’ she rambled, ‘but they’re only about 10 feet apart and…he’s going to hear me!’ she silently whined.

True, she had taken the job of her own free will and she didn’t even remotely need the money—hell, she lived in her family’s pool house, for Christ sake!—but still…

Somehow, psychologically, she wasn’t ready to give up the job…she felt like…okay, she wasn’t going to examine the psychology behind it all now, not when she had to make a decision; they were, after all, all looking at her expectantly.

“That, uh, well that sounds, you know, like a, well, that sounds nice.” She did her best to ignore the odd look her mother was shooting her way.

And, granted, it wasn’t the most eloquent of answers but it wasn’t like they’d given her any warning. Even a few minutes would have given her enough time to properly answer that question, or even, possibly, find a way to not really answer it just yet.

But could they do that? No!

So here she was, telling her stepfather’s younger half-brother (he was too hot and too young for her to call him her uncle) that he could live with her, while she worked basically as a whore, doing phone sex every night. Well, wasn’t she just a genius.

“See, William,” Joyce said, still looking pointedly at her daughter, “I told you it wouldn’t be a problem. Now, after dinner, why don’t we take your suitcases out to the pool house—you did bring some with you, didn’t you?”

He nodded, still refusing to talk.

“Good, then after dinner Buffy can help you take them out and get you all settled. I know you must be tired after everything you’ve been doing. We’ll let you get to bed early tonight, especially now that you’ll be staying so nearby.”

If she noticed that William hadn’t spoken a word since Buffy had come into the room and hadn’t taken his eyes off of her either, Joyce didn’t mention it. And in his nervousness, Rupert didn’t notice either.

And Buffy, well she was too focused on her own predicament to take much notice of just what was going on around her.

But that wasn’t going to last the entire night. Things could only go so well for so long.





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