Inhale. Exhale. Inhale... Buffy thought as she continued to cup handfuls of water and splashed them on her face. The cold water seemed to cool off her scorching skin, making Buffy feel better, refreshed. She didn’t care about the thought of her make-up coming off. It’s not like she was going anywhere. However, Spike hadn’t clarified about dinner tonight. Buffy was trying to think if she could continue using the excuse of being tired to get out of dinner for tonight.
The idea of Spike discussing business with his employees earlier at lunch continued to make Buffy’s stomach heave. He planned someone’s death right in front of me and Anya.
What had her father put her into? Buffy asked herself.
Hank Summers, a hard man devoted to work, was always respectful towards and around the women in his family. He kept his discussions of business away from them no matter what.
Before Buffy had left for the dance academy, she had been sitting in the dining room with Dawn doing homework one day, when Hank and Irah, Willow’s father had been walking by the dining room with another man Buffy recognized as one of her father’s many men. The nameless man had said something rather loudly about the business. Buffy couldn’t remember the exact words but did remember it had to do with something illegal that her father was doing. After the man had carelessly blurted out in front of Mr. Summers’ daughters, Buffy remembered the deadly look in Hank’s eyes. He didn’t do anything right there. Instead he smiled over at Dawn and Buffy, as if reassuring them in some way that it was nothing bad. Then Hank had led the other two men back to his study. The next time Buffy saw the outspoken lackey, he had a black eye and bruised lower lip.
Buffy knew why Hank kept his family away from the business. It was a sign of respect. And when another person that worked for the head of the family spoke crudely around the women in his life, then that meant the person had no respect for the leader, and must be dealt with immediately.
There were so many rules and ways of behaving when belonging to a mafia family. Not only for the people who worked for the head, but for the family as well. One of them being that the immediate family, under no circumstances, butt in on their affairs.
Spike seemed to break as many rules as possible. He kept his men here at his private home, which wasn’t very common, and it could look suspicious to outsiders. Not only that, he and his men spoke openly of business in front of people who weren’t part of it, who didn’t want to be part of it. It was a risk to take. Who knew if the people they spoke in front of were trustworthy.
Opening the drawer she had filled with her hair products a few hours earlier, Buffy pulled out a beautifully crafted hair clip with a butterfly on the top. She pinned her hair up into a messy bun, the beautiful accessory complimenting her honey blond hair.
Buffy left the bathroom, stopping to look at her closed door. Should she worry about whether he was mad at her for closing the door in his face? Yes, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. Ignoring her worrisome thoughts, Buffy surveyed her new room. It had a TV, and she had brought books, yet she couldn’t find anything to do. Actually, she could find something, it wasn’t what she wanted to do. Her legs were tingling for a practice of ballet but there was no place for her to try it. The bathroom, the only place with hard floor was excessively small to even do a simple warm-up.
Sighing heavily, Buffy walked over to her windows. The sheer white curtains billowed toward her, and she closed her eyes, feeling the early cool afternoon breeze from the open French doors.
Buffy reached out and just let the tips of her fingers touch the fabric. When a heavier breeze pushed forward, it caused the curtain to then touch the tips of her toes. She stepped closer, allowing herself to be tangled with the curtain. Buffy continued to move forward until she was all out onto the balcony, the curtain slipping over her head, and falling back into place now behind her.
Standing against the railing, Buffy looked over the grounds from the fourth floor of the estate. She could see most of the outside grounds. All the way to the edge of the tall brick wall before trees shielded her view. A few gardeners worked farther down, tending to bushes and hedges keeping the garden in tip-top shape.
Could she possibly get used to this life? The life of a mistress? Maybe. It’s not like Spike was treating her like a mistress either. Instead, almost like...a girlfriend, or a fiancé. You haven’t slept with him yet. For all you know, he could change once you have. Buffy reminded herself. Remember he is just trying to get you comfortable.
The thought of children with him even popped up but Buffy pushed it back to its rightful place at the back of her thoughts. It was possible. She would need to get birth control before she became intimate with Spike. Just to be safe. Really, she had never thought about children considering the fact that she was a dedicated dancer. But, she still caught herself thinking about the 2.5 kids and white picket fence with a normal man every once in a while.
She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry...anything to let out this frustration she was having boiling up inside of her. What cosmic screw up had occurred to cause her life to completely change in less than a week? To the point where her dreams were probably never going to come true. She had hoped that after her mother had recovered and gotten better, she would be able to go back to the A.B.D.C. She and Lorne had certainly talked about it, and the company had even said they’d be opening an international dance company and they wanted Lorne and her to be instructors on the Academy over-seas. However, now that she was instated as a mafia mistress, she didn’t see that happening soon.
Remembering her shattered dreams, Buffy turned from the balcony with a sigh of disgust and walked back into the room to find Anya and Faith both sitting on the edge of her bed. At the first sight of them, Buffy let out a scream of fright. Her hand flew to her chest as if trying to keep her heart from jumping out. Both girls just gave her innocent looks as if they had done nothing wrong such as scaring the crap out of her.
Why had she been used as an alliance between her father and Spike’s gang? It was known that the four gangs had gotten involved in backstabbing situations before, and never had a trade like she was involved in ever taken place.
Faith then began to giggle in only the way Faith could. “Calm down B. It’s just us two girls coming to have a chat with the new girl in the house,” she said, a wicked smile spreading on her ruby lips.
The blonde straightened up. “Well excuse me, but I don’t feel like having company right now,” Buffy told them coldly. She turned to her vanity dresser and picked up her chap stick, trying to ignore them.
Anya sat up straighter, pulled off her strappy heels, and scooted further onto the bed. “I understand what you’re thinking.” Buffy gave her an incredulous look, causing Anya to stop talking and re-think that. “Ok...maybe I’ve never been in the same situation as you, but I know how you’re feeling.” Sitting down on the little couch Buffy stayed silent as she continued to stare at Anya and Faith. “Ok maybe this little pep talk will be easier if we know why you’re upset.” Buffy sighed and before she could become defensive Anya interrupted her. “And don’t say you aren’t because we know you are. You didn’t say anything through lunch and even though we just met you...you had a look.”
“What look?” Buffy asked, having no idea where Anya was getting at.
Anya raised her eyebrows doubtfully towards Buffy’s question. “The look that screamed you did not like what was going on at the table.”
Buffy stared down at her hands with a guilty look. “It’s just...I don’t like how Spike is...you know.” Buffy shrugged.
“Come on B, you’re part of a mafia family, you know how things work. No matter how much you hate it, you just have to go with it.”
Buffy stood up and began pacing. “I know I can handle the idea of the illegal things, though I absolutely hate it even when I was with my dad. But...Spike handles things completely different.” She looked to find Anya and Faith both staring at her with confused eyes. “My father never talked about business. Direct family he kept quiet as a way of respect towards us.” Buffy stopped pacing in front of Anya and Faith, expelling a large sigh. “When you, Spike, and the others talked about planning someone’s death, it made me feel disgusted. I was a witness to the plans and...” Her head fell into her hands, covering her face and Buffy felt the need to scream out even more.
Nothing was said for a minute. Both women in a way understood where Buffy was getting at. Finally Anya spoke up.
“Well, all I know is what worked for me and Xander is I told him things that made me upset. You make a compromise. Like I withheld orgasms from Xander if he continued to only talk about the business and not tell me how pretty I was. Then you also have to come to terms with the idea that the men in this house, and including the women-“ Anya gave Faith a smile. “have a job to do. Sometimes you just have to put it in an area where it won’t affect you.” She gave Buffy a small gentle smile.
“But I don’t even want to be here. I don’t want to be someone’s whore.” She was at the verge of tears and both women could tell.
“We know. You have it harder, so always remember you have me and whacko here to talk to,” Faith said to Buffy and elbowed Anya to back her up on this. Buffy couldn’t help but give them a grateful smile. They were actually trying to help her, gave her advice for the situation she was in and helped her cope with the idea of being a mistress to Spike.
“Thank you.” The blonde woman whispered.
“And...hey,” Faith said, standing up and walking over to Buffy. “Just think that the guy is loaded and he’s basically going to pay for everything you want. New wardrobe every time you wish for one.”
Anne walked out of the diner and into the dark dank alley of Los Angeles. Pulling her coat around her tighter, she watched as a couple walked passed her to step onto the main street.
Suddenly, a figure appeared in front of Anne, standing tall and deadly. As far as Anne could tell, it was of the male variety and he stood at least a good foot and a half taller than she did. Stepping closer, the figure revealed its features from the little light planted above the back door of the alley. Its forehead was contorted unlike any normal human and as far as Anne could see the canine teeth of the man were longer, sharper than usual. It was growling menacingly, its amber eyes glowing in hunger. Vampire. Anne thought as she smiled and pulled out a long wooden stake from her coat pocket.
Buffy put down the new book onto her lap, making sure to mark her current page. Rubbing her tired eyes Buffy rested her head against the back edge of the white couch. She had spent the past two hours deep into the book of Anne the Vampire Slayer ever since Anya and Faith had left from their little consoling talk. It was a way to pass the time today, and since the girls had left, no one had disturbed her.
She thought back to the conversation she had with both girls. It was nice knowing for sure she had two people in the house she could possibly get along with.
Looking down at her book laying on her lap, Buffy thought of the main character Anne, and the way she was portrayed on the cover. Fierce, strong, stylish, a warrior. Buffy ran her hand over the cover feeling the textured lettering of the book, the picture of ‘Anne’ standing in a fighting pose with a stake raised at a shadow which, presumably, must be the villain. Some of the qualities of ‘Anne’s’ personality reminded Buffy kind of her own. Stubborn, not willing to see some good sides, and was currently being intimately involved with an evil character. Not only that, but Buffy found it was ironic the character had her middle name.
There was a knock at the door causing Buffy to jump in surprise. She stared at the door across the room, trying to find her voice to invite the visitor in.
The door opened and in walked Spike, dressed out of his suit and into a pair of blue jeans and a black t-shirt. Buffy tried not to stare and gawk, trying to not be attracted to him in the instant drool way, trying to remind herself that she was still a little upset with his ‘not-a-care-in-the-world’ attitude earlier at lunch.
“May I come in?” Spike asked, closing the door behind him.
“You already are, not like I can throw you out from here.” She picked up her book and tried to throw herself into the story again while at the same time trying to ignore his presence. Though as hard as she tried, she could still spot him out of the corner of her eyes. Even after turning and facing at the other direction, she could still feel him watching her. It was unnerving. Buffy suddenly felt like she was in a room with a pink elephant as her company.
Giving up with the act of trying to appear busy, she looked up from her book. She jumped to find Spike across from her now sitting on the edge of the bed, and of course still staring at her. She felt the anger she’d kept bottled up inside her since lunch threatening to spill forth. This was getting too much, too much for her to handle.
“What are you staring at?” Buffy yelled, growing completely irritated by the second as Spike continued to stare at her.
“What is your problem?” Spike asked, his anger firing up for the countless time today. Why can’t the chit be normal for once?
Buffy stood up, throwing her book on the cushion of the couch. “You want to know what my problem is? My problem is you Spike; my whole problem is how you act.” Spike tilted his head to the side, giving her the curious look that Buffy thought was sexy. Buffy stopped her thoughts at that one. “You don’t even think about what you talk about in front of others, do you?”
“What in the bloody hell are you talking about?!?!” Buffy was throwing him around in circles and it was annoying him further, testing what little patience he found he had left. If it wasn’t one thing it was the other...
Frustrated and unable to rein it in any longer, Buffy practically let out a scream shooting up to her feet. “You planned someone’s death in front of me! In front of others!” The outburst had her gasping for breath, her entire body shaking with repressed anger. Even so, she tried to hold onto a small amount of control and held herself back, trying desperately not to walk away and go to hide in the bathroom. Walking away to go hide was not going to solve anything. In the little time she had spent here, she had already learned that if you had a problem the head boss was the person to go to. Especially if the problem was with the head boss.
“So that’s what this is all about?” Spike asked. The mask of anger on his face melted away, but a discernible eye could still notice his jaw tick as he clenched his teeth. He leaned back on the bed in the most casual manner, which seemed to piss Buffy off even further.
How can he be so calm? Buffy asked herself. Probably because he’s a heartless bastard.When Buffy didn’t answer with anything he stood up and stepped closer to her.
“You didn’t like the fact that I did my job, eh?” He stared down at her and took another dangerous step towards her. It was a predatory step, slow and measured. His voice was even and calm, and although Buffy thought she wasn’t afraid of him before, this time she wasn’t so sure.
Buffy stepped back, plastering on a mask that wouldn’t show she was actually becoming scared.
“Well pet, this is me,” Spike said, holding his arms up as if showing himself off to her.
“And didn’t you know that I don’t like you?” Buffy asked harshly. She actually became daring and took a step closer to him herself. Her hands rested on her hips, her eyes staring up at him almost as if daring him to lash out.
His hand reached out and Buffy almost thought he was going to slap her. Instead, his hand caressed her face, running down her cheek to her neck. You’ve done it now, he’s going to strangle you. Buffy thought, panicking. She bit her lip to keep it from quivering.
“Did it work?” His question left her flabbergasted and she could only gape at him, confused. Finally she found the words.
“Did what work?”
Spike chuckled and bit his lower lip as he stared down at her. “Did saying you didn’t like me convince you? Just admit it pet,” Spike said, almost taunting her. “What you just said was a lie to try and convince yourself that you don’t feel the passion going on between us.” He put his tongue behind his teeth, leering at her.
“Get. Out.” Buffy spit out, almost growling. She reached to push him away from her but the hold around her neck tightened.
“I don’t think so pet. You need to get one thing straight. Actually a couple things but this one will do for now. I have a job to do. And, a family to run. Expect things to get your knickers in a twist. But, don’t you ever take it on me. It’s not my bloody fault you have a stick up your arse.”
Out of nowhere, her hand reached up and slapped Spike’s face with so much force his head reeled to the side. Buffy bit her lip to keep from crying out from the sting of her own slap burning on her skin, and she was still shocked at what he’d said, what she’d done instinctively in retaliation. And now, she was afraid of what Spike would do to her. Trembling, she looked at Spike with wide eyes of shock and horror, yet the depths of her hazel eyes still sparked with righteous anger.
Spike hadn’t moved, looking at her through the corner of his eye with such a deadly glare. Both of them were breathing harsh gasps of air, with adrenaline pounding in their ears. This chit had gone too far. He felt his temper flaring up as the last of his patience wore off, and without even thinking he let go of her neck and lifted up his own hand, ready to backhand her for slapping him. He froze mid air when he saw her arms had risen up to shield herself from his potential blow. At the sight, something clicked inside him and he lowered his hand.
Then without a word, Spike left her room, slamming the door behind him. Buffy looked up from her scared haze to find herself in the room alone. The dam of emotions she’d been keeping in check broke just then and she let out a hysterical sob.
The scared state he had seen her in made Spike want to throw up. His stomach heaved as Spike stepped onto the elevator platform. He gripped his abdomen with his arm and held the bridge of his nose with his other hand trying to push away the nauseous, disgusted feeling he had for himself. Shaking, Spike reached out and punched the number two.
Spike would’ve killed a man, tore him from limb to limb if he ever witnessed a man raise his hand to a woman. He was a mafia leader, and he did many things, but hitting women wasn’t one of them. But here he was, actually raising a hand to Buffy. She looked so scared of him.
What disgusted him more was that he had nearly hit her. What kind of bastard hit a woman? Only a monster would. Spike told himself, reminded of the name Buffy had once called him. A monster.
After what had happened, Spike was sure she would definitely be scared of him from then on. Probably too scared to even look him in the eye let alone come near him. The rebellious fire in his mistress, the spark that he loved so much would be gone. You bloody bastard git. Spike cursed himself as he pounded his head against the wall of the elevator shack.
The elevator bell dinged, signaling that it had arrived to the floor. He stepped off and hurriedly made his way to the workout room at the end of the hall. He needed to work off the hate he currently had for himself while trying to think of a way to apologize to Buffy. Oh God, what had he almost done?
Buffy opened her bedroom door cautiously at the sound of the knocking, scared and hoping for it not to be Spike. Peering out slowly, she found her prayers answered and sighed in relief when she found a rolling cart at her door with what looked to be a large selection of food on a tray. Turning her head over the edge of the doorway Buffy watched as a servant stepped onto the elevator. Shrugging, she pulled the cart in. She wasn’t sure if she had an appetite to eat, though.
Today had gone so badly that she was almost left without the need or want to eat anything. She and Spike had gotten into three fights today and each time was getting worse and worse. It was seven in the evening, a long time since Spike had left her room and no one had bothered her since then. Buffy shuddered at the thought of their earlier and most recent argument. Had he nearly hit her or was it just her imagination? Buffy had to admit no matter what type of business Spike was involved with, he didn’t seem the type to hit a woman.
Yeah well you thought you weren’t the type to slap anyone either and you pulled it off. Buffy thought guiltily.
She wanted to forget about everything today. It had gone so badly, and she was miserable. Buffy positioned her cart of food at the edge of the bed to face the television. She needed something mindless, something like white noise to occupy her mind, or something comedy to bring up her dismal spirit.
She changed the channels before turning to take the covers off her food. Chicken and pasta with Alfredo sauce. It was too good to resist. Sitting down she ate as she watched the movie Center Stage. The movie was about ballet and students attending a dance academy in New York, and that just seemed to bring Buffy’s mood down even further as her need to dance became greater.
Making a decision Buffy scooted over towards her phone on her nightstand and picked up the receiver. She dialed a number she knew by heart and waited for it to ring.
“Lorne Cartel.” The familiar voice rang in her ear. Buffy smiled, happy to hear a voice she loved.
“Hey Lorne, it’s Buffy.”
“Buffy sweetcheeks!” Buffy smiled as Lorne delved into talking about finding a great pattern for her dress for the performance. She laughed as he told her about a guy he met in the supermarket that he was sure was completely gay and was certainly hitting on Lorne. “So, my La Petit, what do I owe this phone call for? Things are going great at the Giles estate as Spike Giles’ mistress?”
At the mention of that, sadness washed over her and she wanted to cry as she was reminded of her current situation. But she couldn’t let Lorne know that. She had to be strong.
“Actually, things are going okay,” Buffy lied with a fake chipper tone. “I just wanted to call you and tell I’ll be able to make it to the morning rehearsal tomorrow.”
“Well that’s fabulous La Petit!”
For another hour, she and Lorne had a wonderful phone conversation, which served as a good distraction from her current state.
Hey so do you hate me? Hey at least he didn't actually hit her. Don't worry things might look up after this chapter. Please Review!
Spuffy_obsessed