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Disclaimer: Joss is God, I am nothing. I, therefore, own nothing. Leave me be: please don't sue.

Three Families, One Town, and True Love (maybe)
Chapter Two: The Miller Clan

William Darby Miller (more commonly known as “Spike”) lay sullenly on his bed and strummed his guitar. Outside, the California sun he was so opposed to, was shining brightly, the whether sickened him. Spike hated the sun, it was bright and obnoxious. He missed the rainy streets of London, where he had been living prior to his family’s move to Sunnydale.

Actually, if he was going to be quite honest, he missed the green hills Dublin. Spike had grown up in Ireland, but due to circumstances beyond his control, he and his family had to leave two years ago. He hadn't really minded at the time, but as time went on, he began to miss the emrald isle more and more.

Not that he hadn't loved England. England had been great. England had brought him Drusilla, and Dru had been the best thing that had ever happend to him. Without Dru he would still be frightened little Willaim who never did anything or tried to be anyone. But now England was gone, along with Ireland. More important than the coutries, Drusilla was gone.

“If you don’t get up and stop mopin’ around, I’m gonna make your life a livin’ hell!” said a female voice in the heavy Irish accent which every Miller, including Spike spoke with.

Spike didn't have to look up to know who it was. He heard voice twice a minute every minute of his life. The Voice annoyed him every minute of his life. He could already see her; brown hair, hazel eyes, black shirt and blue jeans, in his mind. He didn't need to look up. A brother knows his sister.

“You already make my life a livin’ hell. You were makin’ my life a livin’ hell before our birth, you annoyin’ punk rock wannabe,” Spike replied, still staring at the ceiling.

"Am not!" she exclaimed.

"Are too!" are too he countered, realizing how rediculously childish they were acting, but not caring enough about it to make an actual effort to stop it.

"I am pleanty punk thank you!"

"The day you're a punk is the day Angel and I fight over a girl. Now go away: I wanna be alone in my over dramatic angst."

“You’re an Arse,” said his twin sister Faith as she sat down on her own bed next to his, taking a pillow into her arms and playing with the fringe on the side without any real interest.

“You’re jus’ now realizin’ this? Where ‘ave you been the past sixteen years?”

"Ignorin' you."

"You're just mad because I'm older," Spke scoffed as he sat up to face his sister, wagging his eyebrows taughtingly at her.

"By five minutes!" exclaimed Faith indignantly.

"Five very important minutes!"

Faith rolled her eyes before throwing the pillow at her idiot of a brother. The twins had been best friends since before they came out of the womb, but even they thought it was a little ridiculous that they were sixteen, of the opposite gender and still sharing a room.

The worse part was that they weren’t even alone: they also shared the room with their younger brother Connor, who was fourteen. But their family didn’t have an amazingly large source of income and the three were currently living in a fairly small house with two other people.

The two other people being their legal guardian and older brother Angel, and Angel’s live-in boyfriend Francis Doyle, who had long since been considered part of the family. As for their parents; the four siblings preferred not to discuss the past, even Doyle had limited knowledge as to what exactly had happened to make Angel the legal guardian of the other three.

“Angel says to come down for dinna’ before he throws your food n the trash,” said Connor quickly, as he popped his head through the door.

"Is that a promise?" asked Spike.

"Would you just come down 'ere? I ain't bravin' it alone."

The twins sighed in exasperation before heading down stairs to get their food. Angel had been working late and had just gotten home, meaning that Doyle had cooked. This prospect greatly frightened the other four residents of the house and Spike was convinced they’d all be poisoned by the end of the night. But they ate it anyway, trying their best not to gag before all heading off in separate directions.

Angel and Doyle were going to stay in and watch a movie. Connor was going to use time alone in the room he shared with Faith and Spike. And Spike and Faith were going out to do something which was still unclear to the other three, although Angel had begged them to let it be legal.

"I'm makin' no promises," replied Faith with a sly smile.

Angel then turned to his brother, "I'll keep 'er in line," Spike reassured him.

"You'll keep me in line? Who the hell are you kiddin'? Who keeps who in line really?" asked Faith, entertained at the notion of Spike being the responsible one, "Really, who keeps who in line?"

"My apologies, oh mighty Faithy! Please, continue to be my guardian in life and keep me from endin' up in the eletric chair, I beg of thee."

"Again...not makin' any promises."

Spike smiled and shoved his sister playfully. Not one to take anything lying down, Faith pushed him back. Spike gave up as to avoid confrontation. As he and Faith were about to go out the door, a thought ran through Spike's head. Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad.

Screeching sounded from the house two houses down as crashing could be heard, as well as someone yelling ‘Get thee gone, Satan.’

Angel and Doyle started to laugh, Faith looked at the house with mild interest, and Connor just shook his head. Spike looked at his family, to the house and back again in confusion and bewilderment.

Then again…maybe not.





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