His mother had said yes to giving Buffy a job, of course. He’d known she would do. And for some bizarre reason, he was really looking forward to telling her.
Geez, he felt like some bloody poofter in shining armour! She’d been in trouble, and he’d swept in and helped her, and now he felt good. He felt happy.
“Hey Spike,” Buffy’s voice drifted out from behind him. “Did you speak to your mom?”
He turned around, and the sight of her literally took his breath away.
God, it was obvious she had tried to dress better today, and as she stood, gazing up at him, Spike had a suddenly terrifying revelation that perhaps she’d done this for him. To make an impression on him.
She wore a light yellow cotton sundress over a pair of faded jeans; her hair gleaming like silk and flowing over her shoulders. Even her face seemed to be glowing more than usual.
“You look really good today.” he found himself babbling. And she blushed prettily before saying,
“Thanks, but that doesn’t answer my question.”
“Oh... Right.” he fought the urge to redden like a spotty pre-teen, talking to a girl for the very first time. “She said she’d be delighted to have you, and that you should stop by after school today.”
Buffy beamed.
“Fantastic.” she said. “Thank you so much Spike; you’re a life-saver.”
“No problem.”
There were a few moments of silence, then Buffy felt suddenly uncomfortable as he continued to stare at her.
“I’ll run you over there in my Desoto later if you want.” Spike said, making her smile again. “Show you the way; introduce you to my mum and stuff.”
“Okay.” she said, “So I’ll meet you in the parking lot after school?”
Spike nodded and they set the time.
“So what happened to all the avoidance?” asked Xander as he and Willow moved in beside her, having watched Spike leave a couple of minutes ago. “I thought he was being all creepy with the uber-nice.”
“He was.” Buffy said. “But then it stopped being creepy and started being, well, just nice.”
“Really?” asked Willow, “Cos seriously, I so told you so.”
Buffy grinned, slapping her friend on the arm, while Xander just frowned at the idea of Buffy having another guy in her life.
“He got me a new job.” she said by way of explanation. “Working for his mom. He’s going to take me over to meet her after school today.”
“Neat!” said Willow. But Xander was still frowning.
“I smell trouble.” he said. “I mean, isn’t this is all just a little... Suspicious? Wasn’t he hanging with Drusilla just a couple of days ago?”
“I thought you said that there was nothing strange about him being nice to me.” Buffy said, quirking an eyebrow. “Something sarcastic about calling the newspapers with this huge news.”
“Yeah...” Xander shook his head worriedly. “Maybe I was wrong though. I mean, I can be wrong. I’ve been wrong on numerous occasions.”
“And you’re wrong now.” Buffy insisted. “Spike’s being genuine. I can tell. I can feel it.”
Xander looked at her sceptically.
“Just be careful with him.” he warned softly, and Buffy couldn’t stayed annoyed with him as long as he was using that sweetly concerned voice. “I just don’t wanna see you get hurt again Buff.”
“I won’t.” she assured him. “Thicker skin these days. You could stick pins in me and I wouldn’t feel it.”
The three friends shared a smile.
_____________________________________________________
“Hey,” Buffy said when she saw Spike approaching.
She was sitting on the ground beside his car; her school bag laying by her side and one of her books open on her lap.
“You sure took your time.”
He smirked, “Had to have a check-up with Snyder,” he said, “Old rat face wanted to know how I’m getting on.”
“Oh?” she asked as she got up gracefully, reaching for her bag. “And what did you tell him?”
“That it’s going well.” he said. “Plenty of neat new friends.” he smiled at her, then noticed the book she was tucking back into her bag. “What’re you readin’ pet?”
She hesitated slightly before replying. “Poetry.” she turned the book to face him. “Hardy.”
Spike was stunned into silence for a moment, and as he stared at her, he flashed back to his very first English lesson all those days ago, when he’d met Drusilla.
“Ah- William Abbot I presume.” said the teacher, setting down her glasses on the desk. “You have a seat- right there.” she pointed to a chair positioned next to a very pretty looking girl with long, dark hair.
She wasn’t looking back at him; rather, she was looking down at the book in her hands, her finger tracing the words as her eyes danced with wonder at whatever it was she was reading. It made Spike smile, and he thought that perhaps showing love for English Literature wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.
He made his way toward his new desk and sat down lightly beside the girl who he now saw was engrossed in a fashion magazine, hidden behind a thick volume. It made him smile slightly at her rebellion, despite the slight disappointment he felt at discovering she wasn’t really engaged in something literary.
“Hi.” he said, and she looked up as if she had failed to notice his presence until that precise moment. “M’names Spike.”
“It’s pretty good.” Buffy said, dragging him back into the present. She flicked through the pages slightly, smiling as she inhaled. “Old books.” she muttered.
Spike smiled at her, surprised yet again by her intelligence, and completely awed by this new twist. This new link that they had in common.
“I love Hardy’s work.” he finally admitted, the words coming out fast like a confession.
She looked up at him in surprise, and saw the way he was looking at her. It made her blush slightly.
“Neat.” she said. Then she hesitantly handed the book to him, “You want to flip through?”
He took it from her, and she noticed the awed expression on his face, just as he didn’t miss the protective expression on hers. This was clearly a prized possession of hers, just as it was an incredible thing of beauty to him.
“Transformations...” he murmured, scanning his eyes over the words, “The Convergence of the Twain, The Oxen, Drummer Hodge, Wessex Heights, Neutral Tones, Nature’s Questioning...” his voice trembled a little, but Buffy said nothing to show him up. “Pet, this is a fantastic collection.”
“You don’t have to tell me.” she said, smiling. “It’s my favourite.”
He handed it back to her reluctantly, and she slipped it back into her bag as he unlocked the car.
Spike had to take a few deep breaths as he reminded himself, for perhaps the millionth time, that he was just pretending.
That this friendship wasn’t real; it was just a means to an ends.
But, Goddamit, the idea of humiliating Buffy now, the way they wanted him to, was damned near unbearable to think even about.
“Thomas Hardy saved my life.” she was saying now, climbing into the passenger seat of his Desoto. “I love him.”
Spike decided to forget about the stupid little plan for now, and just enjoy her sweet company.
He smirked at her comment.
“You love him?” he asked, slipping in beside her and starting the engine swiftly. “You know he’s dead, right?”
Buffy stuck her tongue out at him.
“I know.” she said. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t love him.”
Spike chuckled, and Buffy giggled as she began a jovial account of how she’d ‘Totally Spaz’ if she ever got to meet him; forcing Spike to point out, once again, that Thomas Hardy had died in 1928.
“Shut up.” she groused, crossing her arms in front of her pretty yellow dress. “You’re ruining the fantasy.”
“And you know that he was 88 when he died?” Spike persisted, causing Buffy to stick her fingers in her ears.
“Really ruining the fantasy now.” she yelled, punching him on the arm, and making him laugh even more.
“You’re insane.” he told her, “I swear.”
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Spike stopped the car and Buffy felt suddenly nervous. What if his mother didn’t like her? What if she took one look at her and said, ‘Sorry, the job has been taken by someone much more smartly dressed.’
She told Spike this and he laughed, shaking his head.
“She said the job was yours love, she won’t go back on her word.” He steered her toward the double doors of the gallery, “Stop fretting, she’s a nice lady, my old ma.”
“Less of the old please William.” said a kindly looking woman as she strolled past him with an armful of boxes, “I’m at my prime, young man. Will you get the door for me?”
Spike strode forward, pushing the door open and holding it as his mother walked past him, thanking him as she plopped the boxes down on one of the desks in the middle of the room.
Then she wiped her hands rapidly over the apron she wore, before holding her hand out for Buffy, saying,
“Sorry sweetheart, where are my manners?” Buffy took her hand. “I’m Joyce Abbot. It’s Buffy, right?”
“Yeah.” she agreed, shaking the older woman’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you Mrs Abbot.”
“Oh God,” the woman said, paling slightly. “Please don’t call me that; it reminds me of that witch I like to call my ex-mother in law. It’s Joyce, okay?”
Buffy smiled, liking the woman already.
“Joyce.” she echoed.
Standing a few feet away, Spike smiled broadly. He had never brought a girl back to meet his mother before, even though she was always bugging him to. But she really seemed to like Buffy, which was great because-
He jolted.
She wasn’t his girlfriend! She was the poor thing he was using, in order to get a girlfriend! God, was he ever an idiot?
“So, Spike tells me you’re looking for work,” she began, sitting down behind one of the desks, and indicating Buffy to follow, “And since I’m in desperate need of another pair of hands, I think we should discuss times and wages.”
Buffy smiled gratefully.
This woman was fantastic.
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Spike offered to give Buffy a lift home after everything had been sorted with his mother, but she had smiled gratefully before declining.
“It’s okay.” she told him, “I only live five minutes away from here.”
“I can still drop you off on my way home.” he said, “It’s no trouble pet.”
“No, really.” Buffy replied, and all of a sudden, she looked a little worried. “I like walking. Besides, I need the fresh air.”
“Want me to walk with you then love?” he asked, but she shook her head adamantly.
“No, it’s fine. I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“Oh, it wouldn’t be any trou-”
“I said it’s fine.” she emphasised. And finally, he cottoned on.
She didn’t want him near her home.
“Okay, sure.” he said. “So I guess I’ll see you at school tomorrow pet?”
“Yeah.” she said, and that gorgeous smile was back again. “Make sure you tell you mom thanks. Tell her I’ll be here four o’clock on the dot, tomorrow afternoon.” she added.
“I can give you a lift here tomorrow if you want.” Spike offered, making her smile even more.
“That’d be great actually.” she said. “Thanks.”
Then, before he’d even had a chance to notice her moving, her small body was wrapped around his in a friendly hug. She held him tightly for a second, stirring a hot reaction in his body, before releasing him and taking a few steps back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow Spike.”
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When Spike got home that evening, his head was near exploding.
Buffy was running around in his mind like a little athlete, and try as he might, he just couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Her blond hair; her yellow dress; her poetry book; her beautiful smile; her sad eyes; her angry eyes; her defiant glare; her cute giggle; her tears of sorrow.
God, she was screwing him up in the most unkindly fashion!
When he’d met Drusilla he’d had the boundaries set out for him clear as day. He’d understood them and he’d agreed with them.
Drusilla was beautiful, mysterious, victimised and in need of his protection.
Buffy was dirty, irrationally angry, bitchy and a slut who would sleep with any guy.
Now more components had been added to the mix. Drusilla was still all of those things, but she was also malicious and cruel. And Buffy, she was still all of those things, but suddenly she too was victimised and in need of his protection, not to mention the love for poetry and the beautiful smile.
It confused him.
Which of them was putting on an act?
Drusilla and her friends would surly tell him that Buffy was acting for him; trying to trick him with her sweet and innocent persona, but he didn’t know if he believed that anymore.
Suddenly he remembered the notebook that had slipped from her bag, the first time they’d met.
The notebook that he’d dumped in the back of his closet after she had yelled at him, and he had decided not to give it back to her.
Surly that notebook would hold some answers for him? Maybe it would hold the key to Buffy’s true personality.
He fished around in the back of his closet for it, finally finding it and bringing it back out into the light of his bedroom. But before he had even opened it, a ripped sheet of paper fluttered out and landed on the floor in front of him.
Spike glanced down at it with disinterest, bending to retrieve it, barely even looking at it. But as he turned it over to put it back into the notebook, he realised it was a yearbook page.
In the centre of the page was a photograph that Buffy had clearly defaced.
The photograph showed six people dressed in formal wear; their faces bright and gleaming with excited and stupid smiles. He recognised them all.
At the end of the line stood Riley Finn with his tuxedo-clad arm thrown casually over Darla’s bare shoulders. Darla wore a severely low cut dress in deep maroon, with her hair tumbling in yellow-blonde curls down her back. Beside them, Cordelia, dressed in a shimmering green gown of sequins and emerald stones, was snuggling into the arms of Charles Gunn, who was grinning at the camera; the collar of his white shirt turned up as if he were trying to make a fashion statement.
At the end of the line stood Angel, and in his arms he held somebody else. The girl wore a long, red dress that clung to her body in all the right places; making her look more sophisticated than both Darla and Cordelia, but the top half of her body and her face were both covered by the scrawl of a black biro.
Spike stared at the scribbles, wondering who was beneath him, but then his eyes were drawn to the words that Buffy had scrawled all around the photograph, and he realised the picture could only be of Drusilla.
‘I hate her so much.’ ‘I wish she was dead.’ ‘I wish she was never born.’ ‘I wish she’d never come into existence.’ ‘I hate her.’ ‘I hate her so much.’ ‘The most vile person on earth.’ ‘I really do hate her.’ ‘I don’t ever want to be like her.’ ‘She deserves to be dead.’ ‘One day she’ll be dead.’
Spike crumpled the picture in his fingers.
And he knew.
Buffy wasn’t nice, or sweet, or any of those things he was starting to think that she was.
She was malicious; far more malicious than Dru could ever be. She had actually wished death upon someone; someone that had hurt her, yes, but no one deserved to be killed for what was ultimately, just a bit of high school teasing.
Spike closed his eyes, coming to a decision.
He wasn’t going to back out of the plan. He was going to see it through to the end, and enjoy the expression on her hateful little face when she finally found out that he had been playing her all along.
She was going to get what she deserved.
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A/N: Okay, just so you don’t all go completely crazy on me, I think it’d be alright to let you know that of course the girl in the picture isn’t who Spike thinks it is. Bear with me guys, because he will be finding this out soon enough.
If you enjoyed the update then please review- because every review makes my fingers type that little bit faster.
Thank you for being so awesome guys!
Love dee__x
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