“It’s all right I guess,” she answered on a yawn and poured a cup of coffee. “What are you doing? Writing some more?”
“Checking e-mail.”
Buffy nodded and sipped her coffee. “I don’t even want to know how many is waiting for me.”
“Guess who left me a voice mail this morning?”
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
Buffy’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head and she stood up straight. “What?”
“Do you want to listen to it?”
“A very emphatic no. I don’t need to hear the worry over the house in her voice.”
Spike looked at her, puzzled. “House? What house? She didn’t mention a house.”
“Not directly, no, but that’s what she’s thinking of. She’s worried I won’t go back to work. If I don’t go back to work, she’s afraid she’ll lose that house I got her and my Dad. Her voice is laced with faux worry and greed.”
Spike chuckled, “Didn’t realize a voice could be laced with greed.”
“If you’re around it enough, you pick up on it rather quick.”
“Buffy, she’s your mother. All you have to do is call her, say you’re taking some time off and hang up.”
“She’ll ask questions!”
“That you don’t have to answer,” Spike pointed out. “What happened to the grown woman last night that told me she could take care of herself and do what she wanted?”
“That woman turns into a teenage girl with no backbone when her mother gets involved. She has the uncanny ability to make me feel like taking a break is irresponsible. Not to mention if I bother to tell her that work is stressful and I should have any complaints – then she just tells me to basically suck it up and deal. Other mothers talk it out with their kids; they might even give advice, not her. It’s just ‘Look at what you have, Buffy’, ‘They’re your bread and butter, Buffy’, ‘You don’t want to lose everything do you, Buffy’? And all of that if I tell her what a pain in the ass a celebrity is being, or another agent or whatever. She just wants me to lie down and be a doormat.”
Spike stared at her speculatively. “Buffy, luv, I think a lot of your issues have to do with your mom and maybe not so much the job.”
“I think a lot of my issues have to do with being told what to do for most of my natural life.”
“I thought your job was to tell others what to do?”
“One would think,” Buffy muttered. “I have control to a point, Spike. But mostly, it’s catering to what ‘they’ want. What will make ‘them’ happy. Having to kiss their ass a lot of the time and play a stupid game to get them around to your way of thinking. It’s tedious and exhausting.”
“I guess I don’t get how people can change from being normal individuals to demanding Prima Donna’s so quickly,” Spike wondered out loud.
“Well, because suddenly they have people bowing down to them, saying how great they are, how fantastic and willing to do anything to make them happy. They realize they don’t have to want for anything and can make other people do their dirty work. So, they do. Not all of them are like that, but it’s the bad apples that spoil the bunch.”
Spike grinned. “So the saying goes. Buffy, look, you don’t have to tell her anything, but at least tell her that you’re all right and that you’re here.”
“What if she comes to get me?” Buffy demanded, throwing her arms up.
“Then you don’t go!” he said, throwing his arms up in return. “Buffy, you’re twenty-nine years old, this is your life, and she does not have control over you anymore. You have control over you, remember that,” Spike told her sternly.
Buffy heaved a big sigh and nodded. “Right. I’m an adult. This is my life, not hers, and all that matters is my happiness.”
“Exactly,” Spike said proudly.
“So, you want to call her for me and tell her that?” she asked, scrunching her face up as if pained.
Spike laughed at how adorable and how incredibly chicken she could be. “No! You’re telling me you’re willing to go sky diving, but you’re terrified of calling your mother? You are an enigma Buffy Anne Summers.”
“All part of my charm. You know I think I’ll actually do the sky diving first. Then when I’m on a high from not dying, I’ll call her.”
“You’re not going sky diving, but think of the fun if you told her you were on your way out the door to do just that?” Spike suggested, grinning widely.
Buffy’s eyes widened and she started to laugh. Squealing, she rushed over and hugged him, peppering his face with kisses. “You’re an idea man, I like that!”
Spike looked up at her, dazed.
“I’m going to shower and call the skydiving place before I call her…” she muttered and sauntered off.
It took him a minute…
“Hey, get back here! That’s not what I meant, Summers!”
Spike managed to talk her out of skydiving, but did insist that she call her mother. After some shopping and milling around town doing the avoiding thing, he made her do it. All it took was the threat of her mother calling out a search party in the form of police. Buffy immediately paled at the thought and said she was on it.
Sitting next to her on her bed and holding her hand for support, Spike watched Buffy wince when her mother answered the phone.
“Buffy, what are you doing?” he could hear Joyce ask. Why doesn’t she ask how she’s doing first? he thought angrily.
“I’m spending some time with Spike,” Buffy answered timidly.
“Why?”
“I needed a break.”
“A break? Can you afford it?”
“Yes, mom, I can—“
“I heard about Cordelia and Angel. What happened, Buffy? What did you do?”
Buffy’s jaw dropped and Spike growled. Before Buffy could blink, he snatched the phone from her. “Hey, Joyce?”
“Spike?”
“Yeah, listen, we gotta go, sorry. Buffy and I have an appointment. We’re going skydiving. We’ll ring later, you know, as long as our chute’s open. Bye!” Clicking the cordless off, Spike pulled a comatose Buffy off the bed. “Come on, kitten.”
“Why did you do that?” she sputtered.
“I could hear her, what she was saying and she pissed me off. She had no right to say that to you. It wasn’t your fault Angel was a jackass and didn’t appreciate what he had.”
Buffy blinked up at him. “It wasn’t?”
“No, it wasn’t. You listen to me, Buffy: You’re a prize, a hell of a woman and if he didn’t see that and get that, then he’s not fit to breathe your air. You get me?”
She nodded dumbly.
“Good, now come on,” he said and led her out of the bedroom.
“Where are we going?”
“You said you’ve never been drunk before. Well, sweetheart, you’re about to get pissed.”