[Reviews - 189]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 2118 times

- Text Size +




Author's Chapter Notes:
Yay for posting! I wasn't planning on doing so today because I just finished an exam, but I really want this chapter out of the way and out there for all to see. Hope you all enjoy it, I'm still nervous about it, though Mari assures me I'm being silly *grins*
Thanks for all the reviews, I'm really blown away by them all so keep em coming :) And of course, thanks Mari for all the help and encouragement!
Chapter 9 – Proclamations



Buffy walked through the quad of Sunnydale U toward the Café. She’d just finished a tough hour with her demonic professor Walsh in Intro Psychology. The woman was tough as nails and had a militaristic view of how her course was run. Luckily, both Willow and her boyfriend Oz were also taking the class so there was some respite. And her TA, Riley, was cute and seemed interested in her, but he had nothing on Spike.

She settled at a table and pulled out the folder Sherry from the gallery had given her to look over. Sherry had been running the gallery the last couple of months, but she was seven months pregnant so she’d have to leave soon which left Buffy in charge. The folder was full of marked pages of orders, sales, and employee files. For such a small gallery there was a lot of paperwork. At least their neighbor Mrs. Johnson offered to care for Dawn in the afternoons so Buffy could continue with her classes and take care of the gallery.

“Hello, beautiful,” Spike’s deep voice jolted her out of her reverie.

“Hi, Spike,” Buffy smiled up at him, accepting a kiss on the cheek.

“An’ how’s my little co-ed today,” Spike looked at the pages that littered the table, noting it to be gallery work. So it was time for Buffy to take on more work then? Poor girl.

“Don’t ask. I just finished Psych with Professor Walsh. I swear she’s evil,” Buffy hastily stuffed the papers back into the folder and proceeded to put it into her bag. “Ready to eat?”

“Sure,” Spike replied, not pushing her. Yet.

After ordering their lunch and chatting about the usual things: Dawn, Giles, work and school, Spike decided he’d had enough patience for the time being. Buffy wasn’t one to openly ask for help. He’d learned that much in the short time he’d known her.

“So you’re takin’ over at your mum’s gallery then?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Buffy replied. “You saw my fun filled folder of doom?”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as that, pet,” Spike chuckled at her wrinkled nose, her only reply to his comment. “Wha’s so bad about it?”

“I don’t know,” Buffy stole one of the fries from his plate and munched on it thoughtfully before continuing, “I guess that’s the problem. I don’t know anything about all this art stuff. I listened to Mom, but I didn’t really pay attention, you know?”

“Yeah, so you need help with selecting the art work then?” Spike swatted at her hand playfully when she deftly stole another fry.

“Art, money, paying people, telling people what to do. Basically I need to learn how to be all-in-control-girl. I guess I’ll need a crash course, huh?”

“It’s not that bad. The money’s never the fun bit, an’ people they’ll do what you want as long as you know how to manage ‘em,” Spike leaned back, relinquishing the rest of his meal to his girl.

“Well… what am I supposed to tell them? I’m younger than all of them, they will think I’m dumb,” she said sulking.

“You’re not dumb, Buffy,” Spike reached for her hand, leaning forward again. “You’re managing everything else in your life. You’ve got Dawn an’ yourself to worry about. I’ll do what I can to help you at the gallery.”

“And what do you know about art, Spike?” Buffy arched an elegant brow, one side of her mouth quirked up.

“I know more than you I wager,” Spike replied with equal cheek. “I did major in Art History you know.”

“You told me you were an English major,” Buffy said suspiciously.

“Dual-major, pet,” he smiled at her softly. “’sides Rupes has more books than any single man should, he knows enough to pitch in.”

“Oh,” Buffy glanced down at their joined hands. The past weeks since Christmas had been great. Dawn was back in school, as was she, and Spike had kept things slow between them. They’d watched movies he brought over, one to watch with Dawn, and one to watch after she went to bed. They spent their time alone together snuggling on the sofa and talking about anything that came up. He’d read some of the poems he gave her and helped her understand and interpret their meanings. But now things were going to get more stressful and she didn’t want to ask him for any more help when he’d already given her so much.

“You’re not askin’, pet,” Spike said, noticing her inner turmoil. “I’m offerin’.”

Buffy couldn’t help the smile that crept over her lips, “How do you always know what I’m thinking?”

“Well, I’d say I was psychic, but that frown you were sportin’ was a bit of a sign,” Spike smiled at her. “So what do you need help with? The art you need? Money handlin’? Or do you want me to go down there an’ tell your staff who’s boss?”

Laughing Buffy replied, “I think the staff issue is a non-issue. I’d rather you not threaten them. But since art, money and Buffy are very un-mixy, I don’t think I can pass on that offer.”

“Right,” he said, adopting a clip businesslike tone, “Gimme the files, woman.”

“Well with a caveman request such as that, what’s a poor helpless girl to do?” Buffy slid the folder toward him, blowing him a kiss when he pouted.

Buffy tucked back into Spike’s neglected fries while he looked over proposals from new artists and the other paperwork Sherry had left for her. She took the time to study him as he sat, brow furrowed in concentration, pen hanging from between his lips. His hair was blindingly white in the sunshine that poured in from the window, making it stand out even further. She’d never taken the time to notice how long his eyelashes were before but they nearly touched his chiseled cheeks when he lowered his eyes at the pages in front of him. The only downfall of his reading was that she couldn’t take the opportunity to gaze into those amazing eyes of his.

“Hi, Buffy,” a voice startled her out of her intimate study of her boyfriend. That thought made her start abruptly. Was he officially her boyfriend now? She had never asked. Turning to see who had spoken she was perturbed to find Riley standing there.

“Um, hi Riley,” she replied, throwing a sidelong glance at Spike.

“Doing some studying?” Riley asked, noting the stack of papers.

“Sure, studying.” She wasn’t in the mood to correct him. Nor should she, he didn’t need to know. Buffy heard Spike clearing his throat, obviously wanting an introduction.

“Oh, Riley, this is Spike.” She watched as Spike straightened in his chair, a suspicious glint in his eyes.

“Spike? Well, that’s an… interesting name,” Riley shook Spike’s hand, puffing his own chest. Spike shot Buffy a glance, clearly wanting some further explanation.

“Riley’s the TA for my Intro Psych class,” Buffy supplied, smiling softly at him.

“Yeah, isn’t it an incredible class? Maggie, I mean Professor Walsh, is simply brilliant. She has been doing some very interesting studies on behaviour modification. I think you’ll really enjoy lecture next week, Buffy,” Riley sounded like an excited school boy. ‘What a ponce’ Spike thought to himself, noting the special interest Riley was paying to Buffy and quite relieved to see it didn’t seem to be reciprocated by her.

“Um, sure, her class is just nifty,” Buffy said. She noticed Spike hadn’t said a word during the exchange and decided to take the plunge. “Spike’s been helping me study for class. It’s great to have a smart boyfriend.” She smiled warmly at him, reaching to take his hand. Spike’s eyes shot directly to hers, holding her gaze intently, waves of emotion passing over his expressive features.

“Boyfriend? I-I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” Riley shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I see Forrest over there holding a table so I should get going. See you in class, Buffy.”

“Yeah, see ya, Riley,” Buffy didn’t bother to look at him as he left, focusing instead on the man in front of her.

When he was gone, she added, “If you want to be that is.”

Spike felt like his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t produce a sound. She’d clearly asserted him as hers in front of that overgrown farm boy. Spike had made sure to take everything slowly, even if it was killing him, knowing that she was already going through so many changes in her life. He’d wanted to ask her where they stood many times but hadn’t wanted to ruin the progress they’d made.

“Spike? Are you going to make me go all high school on you?” Buffy’s nervous voice broke through his train of thought. When he frowned at her question, Buffy took a deep breath and asked, “Spike, do you want to be my boyfriend?”

Cheeky grin firmly in place, he took Buffy’s face between his hands and brought it to a stop right in front of his, noses almost touching.

“Yes, I’ll be your boyfriend, Buffy Summers,” he supplied, kissing her softly on the lips to seal the deal.





You must login (register) to review.