As soon as she saw the exit to the high school, Buffy broke into a run, wanting nothing more than to escape the two men and the problems they brought with them.
It stunk of her life before in LA and the sick promises Hank had made to both her and her mother. The divorce and the events leading up to it had made dents in Buffy’s armor but Joyce was completely broken and unable to function. She’d stopped calling her mom after the second overdose. Buffy could remember quite clearly ringing the ambulance and riding in it to the hospital, her mother’s face smeared with what looked like self raising flour.
Buffy had been left in the waiting area as they rushed her away, the interns not even telling the thirteen year old how she was. She had paced the room before amusing herself with the candy machine not knowing exactly what to do. Her dad was away on ‘business’ and not be disturbed under any circumstance. Buffy didn’t want to take the risk of him being angry with her again so she did not touch the pay phone. The bruises from last time still stung.
Eight hours later a doctor had returned, note pad clutched in his hand as he informed her that “Joyce Summers has made a recovery.”
It only took one little sentence for Buffy to realise that she was alone.
Perhaps it was the detached way they told her, knowing that she was the daughter but still not addressing her as such.
Joyce Summers.
It sounded deceiving.
As though her mother was just another depressed woman who had taken it too far. It was like the name absolved her of any responsibilities. She wasn’t a mother to her nor even a wife, just a random addict. From that instant onwards Buffy knew she couldn’t fulfill those roles any longer. Joyce had tried to escape from everything… including her.
A slight sniffle broke the silence as Buffy slowed to a steady walk not looking where she was going.
Sometimes she still called Joyce 'mother' but it was so quiet that the woman never heard it. The name was far easier allowing Buffy to have some detachment from the sad open expression of her only real relative, even if she was never completely with it.
The only true blessing that Buffy could make from Joyce’s ‘habit’ was that it was well hidden. Since coming to Sunnydale she had cleaned herself up somewhat, even running a gallery and gallivanting off with her friends.
However she couldn’t look at her daughter anymore, seeing Buffy as a reminder of her doomed marriage and her failures, which even now occurred regularly.
Buffy looked up from the sidewalk she had been slowly contemplating. Without realising her feet had carried her to her current home:
1620 Revello Drive.
Sighing with some small sense of comfort, Buffy noted that her mother’s wait no Joyce’s car was not parked in the driveway.
Alone again.
***
“Bleeding buggering hell!” shouted Spike paying no mind to the group of students which gathered around. Buffy had embarrassed them both in front of every pupil in the whole of Sunnydale high.
Parker would laugh his ass off when he heard about it.
Clutching his leg which ached with a pain not often felt, Spike felt a weird sense of pride swell inside.
The chit can kick better than Beckham.
He winced again as his leader finally made a comment. Hopefully the wanker had received a harder blow, what with him suffering the first kick. Spike was regretting being the closest to her, yet was thankful that she hadn’t been more pissed off. He didn’t want to know about her punches.
“You know this sucks right?” Angel looked over at his second in command, clutching his shin in one hand as he leant against the locker for support. The Summers girl had smashed her foot into his leg also and Angel could already feel a bruise forming.
How am I going to explain this to Cordelia?
With another litany of curses Spike finally acknowledged the poofter, wanting to kick his other shin for causing the problem in the first place. If he had just left Buffy alone they would never have had her bashing them around before running out the door.
With a start Spike realised that she had been gone for far longer than five minutes. Definitely not a good thing in Sunnydale. He made to let go of his leg before letting out another cry of pain.
It would take at least another minute before he could walk and even then he’d be limping.
“Of course I know that!” Spike glared at Angel with the first true malice he’d felt since last week. He’d tried to be nice to the poof but if he kept bollocking everything up? Spike would be forced to properly kick his ass. And after today, would enjoy it thoroughly.
Knowing where the bleached blonde’s thoughts were going, Angel slid forward slowly until they were close, not wanting to move more than was possible. He would never live this down if anyone heard them.
“I’m sorry.” Angel’s heavy brows were drawn together in what he hoped was an empathetic expression. Spike would easily be able to kick his ass even with the damaged leg.
Spike growled turning away from Angel in an attempt to resist the urge to knock the wanker to the floor. “You knew that she was not to be touched Peaches. I told you specifically that she was not for your bloody harem.” He kept his voice low in acknowledgement of the apology knowing that the poofter had to be well and truly sorry in order to admit fault.
Doesn’t make up for the fact that he came after Buffy though.
Spike stuffed his hands deep into his pocket, absently twisting the Desoto’s keys around a finger. As soon as Angel finished his pathetic excuses Spike would be gone, driving off after Buffy.
Couldn’t bear it if she hated me.
The betrayal which had shone in her eyes had startled Spike for a moment; making him want to toss away his image and beg her for forgiveness. He’d only spoken to her once before but already Spike felt this desperate need to protect her and make her his. There was no way he could allow Angel to pursue her.
Not whilst I’m still known as William the Bloody thought Spike darkly.
Angel sighed, leaning his body up beside the Brit. The bell had gone long ago and he realised that this issue would not be resolved instantly.
As it anything with Spike ever is.
“I had to do it” said Angel with a hint of finality. “You wouldn’t go near the girl all week and hell Will I am a man.”
Spike didn’t bother to look at him, knowing that the brunette’s blood didn’t always rush south. Angel was hiding something.
“You know how I feel about her Peaches. You shouldn’t have done it.”
Angel frowned not liking the way this conversation was headed. The Brit’s tone was almost possessive if not loving… something which Angel had only heard in the man’s voice once before. If Will got too involved with Summers then things would suddenly become far more serious for not just Spike but the Aurelius gang as a whole.
Trying to remind Spike of the repercussions Angel mentioned Parker. “I’ve been hearing from Faith lately.”
The response was non committal. Spike shrugged before asking a belated “and?”.
“Abrams knows about her.”
Angel waited for Spike to explode in another torrent of “bloody hells” and curses. The Brit couldn’t go more than five words without swearing when discussing the “sodding fucking git who couldn’t beat me in a fight if I was tied up and blind.”
Spike however remained tight lipped, making Angel realise that it was worse than he feared. The whole thing was another Drusillaesque tragedy in the making.
Just what I need with the Master breathing down my neck thought Angel ruefully.
“He’s already sent scouts out to find where she lives Spike and I don’t know how long it will be before he decides to simply take her. We both know the mom is oblivious and the cops around here are more aware of Krispy Cremes than any of our dealings. At least with me she could stay at the house and be safe.” Angel raised his hand, rubbing at his temples to relieve some of the tension which was coiled inside. “I know you like her Will and hell I do to. She’s a spitfire. But if I don’t take her as mine then we both know what will happen.”
Angel held his breath for a moment before Spike grabbed the lapels of his jacket slamming him into the lockers.
“Don’t act so sodding noble Peaches.” Spike’s eyes were a stunning blue, with flecks of red from lack of sleep interspersed. He looked like hell. “I appreciate your concern for Buffy but don’t you dare lie to me and say that you wouldn’t benefit from grabbing a piece of ass and showing it off around town.” Spike shook his head derisively, letting the heavier brunette down. “You forget that I know you.”
For a moment the corridor was silent. Spike was breathing hard trying to control the rage he felt boiling inside. If anyone else had dared tell him that they were stealing his girl as a favour, they’d be dead. Pure and simple. Angel was lucky that Spike even tolerated him standing there.
“In spite of that Peaches I do understand slightly what you did.” Spike never bothered to look at Angel already knowing that the brunette’s face would be covered in shock. “I’ve been through a hell of a lot of shit with you and I can't see it being one of your motives to screw me." Spike's chuckle was rough and humorless, not wanting to let any of his emotions grab hold and rip Angel's head off. "Despite that I’m going to tell you this once.” Spike locked his eyes, his declaration dripping with rage. “Buffy’s mine and if you touch her again or in anyway proposition her they’ll be finding your sodding body for weeks. That and I’ll set fire to all your bloody hair products.” The Brit smirked for a moment, knowing that Angel would take the gesture for what it was. “I’ll bring her by the house latest by tomorrow and I’ll be moving in also.”
The brunette nodded. He had expected as much.
“Should I bother introducing her to the gang or should we make her family instantly?”
Spike shrugged, knowing that either way Buffy would put up a fight. “Do what you feel is best Angel, you’re the leader. Just as long as everyone knows she’s mine.”
Angel once again nodded, not needing to speak to know the issue was settled. Hope you know what you’re getting yourself into Spike. The brunette looked at the ground, noticing that the tiles were forced together like a jig saw puzzle. He would wait till later to tell Spike about the latest news from Masters. Angel doubted that neither Spike nor Parker knew the real importance of the girl. He himself was not entirely sure that it was true.
Already ruing himself Angel gestured towards the exit, eyes not once meeting his second command’s and if he was truly honest, only real friend.
“Go get your girl Spike.”
The Brit smirked, clapping Peaches on the back with a blow that would force others to their knees. “Thanks Angel” he muttered, striding out with a pronounced limp.
“Your welcome.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
this chapter is part of a growing lead up to what will hopefully be a slightly different plot than other FFs. Unfortunately it will also be a very long story. Thankyou once again to everyone who reviewed. The response has amazed me beyond all imaginings.. I'll try to post every second day.