With a deep sigh, Spike nodded at Frank to shut the camera off. They were seated in his office, along with Julie, and one of “Bill Gates’” top lawyers. The lawyer shook his head in confusion as he signed the documents needed to verify the video and updated will of “Bill Gates.”
Rich people are always eccentric, Herb old boy. Just remember how much he’s paying you per hour.
Herb, the lawyer, smiled as he placed the documents in his briefcase, leaving the carbon copies and signing yet an additional form to be kept in Spike’s office safe. Spike thanked Herb profusely, and Julie quickly ushered the short and stout man out to the elevators. Alone for a few moments with Frank, Spike gave in to his curiosity.
“Frank, weird question.”
“Go ahead, sir.”
“How much income did you earn last year?”
“Oh gosh, sir, I’m not sure….”
“I understand if it’s too personal a question, Frank.”
“Oh, no, no, that’s not it at all…I just,” Frank trailed off as he counted silently on his fingers. “I probably made about 32 grand last year. My wife doesn’t work, but she stays home with our kids, which is work enough, let me tell you. We do get a bit of federal aid from social security, though, because her mother lives with us…so maybe around 38 grand total?”
“How many kids do you have, Frank?”
“Five, and one on the way. You want to see their pictures? I never leave home without ‘em,” Frank said, beaming broadly as he pulled a worn leather wallet out of his pocket and flipped it open, revealing a set of pictures. “Carmen is our oldest…14 and already such a lady! She took a few babysitting jobs last year when we were really strapped…never mentioned that she knew, just left the money for her mother to find tucked away one morning. Took us a few weeks to figure out where that money came from. And this is Ruthie…Joel…Evan…and my little Samantha. She’s just as sweet as she can be, sir. And I don’t understand it, honestly. That little girl has every right to be miserable.”
“Why?”
Frank sighed and attempted, bravely, to hide his tears.
“She…she’s blind. You wouldn’t know it to look at her, really, but she can’t see anything. Breaks my heart when she asks what her Mommy looks like. I told her the other day and she said that Mommy looks like the angel who visits her at night when everything’s quiet. How do you tell a four year old she’ll never…God…I’m sorry, sir, I shouldn’t…yeah….”
“You’re a very good father, Frank. I admire that.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Spike reached into his tweed coat pocket and pulled out a white card.
“Here, this is my doctor…best in the world, though I don’t think I’ve ever really gone to see him. Tell him I sent you, we’ll see if he can find a good surgeon…they can do transplants sometimes. Not to get your hopes up, but….”
“I know, sir. Still…a little hope is better than none.”
Julie smiled as she entered the office again, gripping two cappuccinos in her hands.
“Here you boys go,” she said, handing Spike and Frank their cups. “Drink up, it’s fresh!”
Spike tried to discreetly wipe away the tears that had fallen on his cheeks.
Bloody hell, I am love’s bitch, aren’t I? Sodding Slayer…sodding Frank…sodding…dammit! I’ve gone soft. Oh yeah, William the Bloody used to be feared across the globe. The Big Bad. Now he’s weeping like a nursemaid at every little story. God…hold it together, Spike.
Spike downed his drink with gusto, and then turned his attention back to the legal documents on his desk. He reread them, assuring himself that he was doing the right thing, for Julie, Frank, himself, and above all, Buffy.
Distribution of wealth upon the passing of Mr. William Gates.
-25% of monetary accruements and all of Mr. W. Gates’ stockholdings are to be given to Mr. Clemency Gates. In addition, Mr. C. Gates is to be given his choice of any vehicles in Mr. W. Gates’ possession, and will be appointed to Mr. W. Gates’ position in his companies (including but not limited to “Microsoft,” “The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation,” and “Oprah’s Book Club”).
-12.5% of monetary accruements each to Mr. Frank Teller and Ms. Julianne Reynolds. In addition to these funds, Mr. Teller will receive Mr. Gates’ Washington estate and all of the possessions therein. Ms. Reynolds shall receive both Mr. Gates’ summer home in Maui, and his winter home in Aspen, and the possessions therein.
-The remaining 50% of monetary accruements, Mr. Gates’ homes in the Swiss Alps, Malibu, and London, and his various apartments in New York City and Paris, France, and his apartment complex in Sydney, Australia, and all of the possessions therein, will be given to the person chosen at random, whose name is revealed on the recording provided by Mr. Gates, as filmed by Mr. Teller, in the presence of Ms. Reynolds, and Herb Sandstein, at Mr. Gates’ request. Until Mr. Gates’ death, the person chosen through the Dorlean program created by Microsoft should not be notified or revealed to the public, for obvious safety issues. Because of his commitment to funding charity work, Mr. Gates took it upon himself to set up this “lottery,” as it were, hoping that the recipient would be a person in need, as so many lottery winners seem to be. Although some press coverage is unavoidable it is Mr. Gates’ wish that this person be notified in private, and their identity is kept as secret as possible. The person chosen at random to receive this percentage of Mr. Gates’ possessions and monetary accruements is a Ms. Buffy Summers, who resides at 1630 Revello Dr, in Sunnydale, CA.
Spike smiled as he congratulated himself on his genius. The Dorlean program was created a few years ago by a group of researchers at Microsoft, but thanks to some level of knowledge and computer acumen that Spike retained from eating Bill Gates, Spike discovered a small glitch in the system. Developed to be a new format for lotteries, the Dorlean program worked perfectly with numbers, but when an “unusual” name was entered twice, such as her given name, “Buffy Anne Summers,” the system would 100% of the time pick the duplicate name. He was proven correct when he filmed the “random” decision earlier with Frank in his office. There he gave a heartfelt speech about life, love, loss, and his hopes for the future. Then “Bill Gates” revealed that a group of militant communists had threatened to assassinate him. Spike had to suppress a smile as he envisioned how Gates would “die,” and thanked himself for his forward thinking of having a “Spike-bot” tucked away for just such an emergency.
--
Buffy, Dawn, and Joy sat on the couch in their home. Joy and Dawn had become fast friends, especially after Dawn had noted that she had a copy of “Spongebob Squarepants” on DVD. While Buffy and Dawn shoveled down popcorn, Joy drank warmed pig’s blood from a “Blue’s Clues” sippy cup, her face fading in and out of its vampiric features. Buffy jumped up when the phone rang and rushed to answer it, hoping it would be Giles returning her frightened call.
“Hel…hello,” she said, slightly out of breath.
“Buffy, pet? ‘s that you?”
A small smile crept across her face as she wondered how Spike got her home number.
“Yeah. Where are you, Spike?”
“I’m out, love. Listen, I don’t have but a minute to talk…pay phones you know. I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to be gone for a few days. Not a big deal, right?”
“The one time I really need you and you’re on vacation? Great, Spike! Just great! Really makes a girl happy that she told you she loves you.”
“Do you still?”
“What?”
“Love me, pet.”
“Yeah. Dammit.”
Spike chuckled.
“Good. Love you too, Slayer. Now what’s this all about you needing me? There a problem?”
“Oh yeah,” Buffy said, staring fondly at Joy. “A big one…well, she isn’t that big…but the problem around her…major big.”
“Her, love?”
“I found a little girl in the cemetery…she’s a vampire, Spike. Her parents were murdered and a group of them turned her…she’s all alone.”
Buffy could hear Spike’s concern and choked back emotion over the phone.
“How old is she?”
“She says she just turned four last month…she woke up tonight, Spike. She…she hasn’t fed yet, but I had to give her something…she was so hungry.”
“Fledges are ravenously hungry when they wake up, love. Give her pig’s blood, then?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Best not to give her a taste of human blood. She’ll never crave anything else.”
“Spike…is she…you know…is she going to be stuck like this forever? In a child’s body?”
“‘m not sure, pet. I’ll find out though, all right? You have my word.”
“Thank you.”
“Course, love.”
“I have to go…we’re watching ‘Spongebob’ and Joy doesn’t seem too happy with me talking now. How long will you be gone?”
“Three days at the most.”
“Good. Just in time to help me move all of my stuff into your crypt when we get evicted.”
“Love….”
“No, I’m over it. I’ll figure something out. I always do.”
“Buffy…why won’t you let me help?”
“We’ve been over this, Spike. I don’t want to talk about it again. I…just come over here right away when you get back.”
“Of course, love.”
“Good. Spike…I love you.”
“Love you too, Buffy.”
“Bye.”
“G’bye.”
Buffy cuddled up between Dawn and Joy to watch the yellow talking sponge and his semi-challenged starfish pal in rapt amusement.
--
A dozen quarters clinked in the pay phone after Spike hung up with Buffy. He dialed a very long distance number and was greeted by a perky woman’s voice.
“Mivaldi Bank of Switzerland, how may I direct your call?”
“Just checking my account balance, love.”
“Alright, I’ll direct you to that line. Hold please.”
After holding for a moment, Spike punched in a series of numbers and was greeted by an automated voice.
“Your account balance as of today is…41 billion dollars…to hear this again, press pound….”
Spike hung up before he could hear the other options, and made his way back to the office.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Italics=internal monologue or something being read.