A/N I combined two chapters, so I don't think there will be an update tomorrow. I wanted to give everyone a little bit of what they've been waiting for.
Chapter 6
Buffy sat next to her father in the elaborate ballroom as she played with
the food on her plate. She wasn’t all that hungry, but it wasn’t like she
could get up and leave whenever she felt like it. Looking up, Buffy nearly
dropped her fork when she saw Spike carefully watching her. He was sitting
across the table and a little further down, but his blue eyes seemed to be
penetrating into her.
Spike watched Buffy carefully as she moved the food around her plate. He
noticed she didn’t eat much of anything as she seemed to be preoccupied.
He offered her a slight smile as she looked up, directly into his eyes,
before Spike turned back to his own meal.
Spike had seen his mother go outside to talk to Buffy, but she refused to
tell him anything when she came back inside. Now, as everyone finished
their dinner and began leaving the table, Spike found himself almost drawn
to Buffy.
“Care to dance, pet?” Spike asked as he walked up behind her.
Buffy whirled around to face him, surprise written all over her features.
“Why would I want to do that?” she asked in an icy tone.
Spike didn’t hesitate as he wrapped his arms around Buffy, pulling her close
to him as they began to sway to the beat. “Because it’s so easy,” he
whispered, sending chills up and down her spine as his fingertips trailed
along her back.
“Okay then,” Buffy replied in a voice barely above a whisper. “Why would
you want to do that?” Spike pulled back slightly to look into her eyes
questioningly as Buffy continued. “Do you just want to find out if the
rumors that ‘preceded’ me are true?”
Understanding dawned on Spike as he turned away from her, not sure what to
say.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Buffy asked, pulling away from him. “You’re all
bitter because your girlfriend left you, and now you’re looking for a quick
fix.”
“Did I say that?” Spike said in a neutral tone as he tried to pull her
closer.
Buffy evaded his arms as she stared at him. “I’m not some replacement for
your Barbie Doll wannabe. I don’t know what you saw in her, because from
what I’ve been told, she’s gotten friendly with every member of every sports team at
Sunnydale High.”
“Be quiet, Summers,” Spike said through gritted teeth.
“Why? Does the truth hurt, Spikey? Knowing that you weren’t enough for
her?”
Spike saw red as he took a step closer to Buffy. “You know what?” he said
in a deadly calm whisper. “The truth is, you’re not enough for me.”
Spike felt the anger radiating off of him as he walked away.
Buffy watched him go, feeling upset and guilty at the same time. Why did
she and Spike always manage to bring out the worst in each other?
“Care to dance?”
Buffy turned and was shocked to see Rupert Giles standing behind her,
extending his hand. “Thank you,” she said softly.
Giles kept an appropriate amount of distance between himself and Buffy as
they began moving to the music. “Buffy, you’ll have to forgive my son,”
Giles said, looking across the room, where Spike was trying to discreetly
look their way. “He has a bad habit of putting his foot in his mouth, and I
feel that he’s effectively done that tonight since he stormed off the way he
did.”
“It wasn’t his fault, Giles,” Buffy said. “I just bring it out in him, I
guess.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Giles said with a gentle smile.
“It really is,” Buffy replied with a nod. “Spike’s not the only one who
puts his foot in his mouth all the time.”
* * * * *
Buffy walked into her English class the next day with a heavy heart. She
had to listen to a forty-five minute lecture from Hank Summers the previous
night about the proper etiquette at parties and many more things that Buffy
would never feel comfortable thinking of again.
The source of the problem, being that Buffy danced with not one, but two
men. One of which was married. Never mind that it was in the most innocent
of contexts, and never mind that Hank himself had been dancing with girls
who were barely even Buffy’s age. No, the fault and the blame always lay
with his daughter.
Buffy barely even offered a greeting to Willow as she took her seat,
propping her head up with her hands as she waited for the teacher to start
class.
Nearly an hour later, Buffy was bored out of her mind as Mr. Green repeated
the instructions for their next project.
“Okay,” he said. “Now that everyone knows what they are supposed to be
doing, you’re going to be paired up to complete the project.”
Buffy and Willow each looked at each other, silently confirming that they
would work together.
“And I’ve decided to pair off the partners,” Mr. Green continued, as he
began reading from a list in his hand.
Buffy listened as the names of the students dwindled down, silently begging
that she wouldn’t be put with the peroxide pest that sat in the back row.
“William Giles and Buffy Summers.”
Buffy narrowly avoided beating her head on the desk as the names were
uttered.
“Alright,” Mr. Green said a few minutes later. “Now that you know who you
are partnered with, you have until the week before Christmas vacation to
finish, so I suggest you get started on it sooner rather than later.”
As the bell rang, Buffy practically bolted to the front of the room, with
Spike right behind her.
“Mr. Green,” Buffy said, reaching his desk first. “You can’t expect me to
work with him.”
“I can, and I do,” Green said with a pleasant smile.
“Sir, with all do respect, I don’t think Summers and I are the best choice
to be partners for this,” Spike said.
“And why is that?” Green asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his
arms over his chest as he awaited an answer.
“Because one of us will end up killing the other,” Spike replied in an
honest tone. “And I don’t want to go to prison for murder.”
Buffy glared at him before turning back to the teacher. “I would be
perfectly happy working by myself on this,” she offered in an overly hopeful
tone.
“Nope,” Green replied. “My decision has been made. Maybe this project will
do you two some good.”
“But him?” Buffy said, jerking her thumb in Spike’s direction.
“Yes,” he replied. “We’re done now.”
Both Buffy and Spike gave a deep sigh as they turned and walked out of the
room.
“Well, this is just great,” Buffy muttered as they stepped into the hallway.
“I’m not too thrilled about it either, Princess,” Spike said in a sardonic
tone as he glanced over at the small girl. “So, when do you want to get
started on this? The sooner we start, the sooner it’s over.”
“I guess we could work on it tonight,” Buffy mumbled in defeat. “How about
your house?”
“No can do, Princess- Mum’s having some friends over tonight. I’ll just
come to your place.”
“N-no, that’s okay, why don’t we-“
“It’s not a problem, Buffy,” Spike said, cutting her off. “I’ll stop by
around four.”
“Alright,” Buffy said with a resigned sigh as Spike turned to walk away.
“Do you even know where I live?” she called after him.
“No worries,” Spike said as he turned around. “Biggest house
in town…I think I can find it.”
“Yeah,” Buffy mumbled, already hoping that her father would be working late.
She didn’t even want to think what his reaction would be to someone of the
opposite sex stopping by, no matter how innocent the situation.
* * * * *
Buffy nervously paced through the foyer of her house later that day. She
had changed into a pair of jeans and a black sweater, deciding it would be
more appropriate than her skirt that she’d worn to school.
Looking at the clock, Buffy noticed that it was already a few minutes past
four, and her anger was beginning to rise.
“The least he could do is be on time,” she mumbled as she resumed pacing,
seconds later hearing a knock on one of the double doors.
Buffy ran for it, throwing it open to reveal a very smug-looking Spike
standing on the other side. “Nice house, Princess,” he said in a
patronizing tone. “Come with its own staff, does it?”
Buffy had to suppress a groan as Fred walked around the corner from the
dining room.
“Buffy, I…oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had company.”
“That’s okay, Fred,” Buffy replied. “Spike’s just over here to work on a
school project- don’t worry about it.”
“Aren’t you going to introduce me, pet?” Spike asked Buffy with a smirk.
Buffy sighed. “Winifred Burkle, meet Spike Giles. Spike, this is Fred.”
“Pleasure to meet you, may I take your coat?” Fred asked.
“Uh, no, that’s alright.”
“Okay then. Buffy, I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Fred,” Buffy said softly.
“So, you have a maid, huh?” Spike asked, looking over at Buffy. “I can’t say
I’m surprised. It’s not like I expected you to lift one of your pretty
little manicured fingers to help.”
“Shut up, Spike! You don’t know what I do or how I help out, so why don’t
you keep your preconceptions to yourself, because you don’t even know what
you’re talking about.”
Spike raised an eyebrow as Buffy turned and walked down a nearby hallway.
With a heavy sigh he followed her, coming to a stop at one of the doors at
the end. Buffy quickly pushed it open and walked through, not bothering to
check and see if Spike was behind her.
Spike walked through the doorway a moment later, looking at the vast room he
was standing in. It was almost the size of the entire downstairs of his
house. Oriental rugs lined the hardwood floor with brown leather sofas
sitting in the middle of the room, accented by the mahogany end tables and
coffee table. Adorning the walls were expensive art, which Spike had a
feeling weren’t reproductions.
Wandering around the room, Spike stopped in front of a particularly
extraordinary painting.
“Renoir,” he murmured as he stared at the beautiful work.
Buffy looked up in surprise as she slowly walked over to stand next to him.
“You know his work?”
“Yeah…my Mum, she’s a fan of the Impressionist painters- Monet, Bazille,
Renoir…among others.”
“It is beautiful,” she said softly as she stared at it for a moment longer.
“Kind of expensive.”
Spike realized his mistake the moment the words were out of his mouth. He
wasn’t meaning to bring up the sensitive subject, merely commenting on how
the painting would be almost priceless, but of course, he’d said it wrong.
Buffy’s features hardened as her gaze dropped to the ground. “I guess so.
I really wouldn’t know since it belonged to my grandfather.”
“Buffy, I’m-“
“Don’t,” Buffy said, holding up her hand as she looked into his eyes. “It’s
not important anymore. You obviously aren’t going to change your opinion
about me, so I may as well agree with you.”
“Buffy-“
“Spike, my father has a lot of money. A LOT of money,” she reiterated.
“So, yes, I probably appear to be the spoiled little rich girl. Let’s just
get this project finished so we don’t have to go through this anymore.”
Spike watched as Buffy turned and walked over to the couch to begin their
assignment. With a heavy sigh, Spike followed her, choosing to sit next to
her instead of on the other couch. He noticed as Buffy tensed slightly when
he sat down, but she soon turned back to their work.
* * * * *
Over an hour later, Spike threw his head back to rest on the back of the
couch, exhaling loudly as he shut his eyes. He and Buffy had gone over
every detail of what they needed to do, and he was already exhausted by
thinking about all the work they would have in the next few weeks.
Buffy mimicked Spike’s movements as she stretched her arms over her head,
causing Spike to glance at her out of the corner of his eye. He noticed the
exposed skin of her taut stomach as her shirt rode up and was surprised as
he felt a slight movement in his groin.
Spike quickly looked away, frowning. He had never had any type of reaction
when seeing a little bit of skin. Shaking his head slightly, he began to
gather his things together.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow at school. We can work out when we’re going to
do the rest of the assignment. I’d rather it be sooner than later,” Spike
said, looking into Buffy’s eyes and noticing the brilliant colors that
seemed to dance in them for the first time.
Buffy opened her mouth to respond when she heard the door to the room open.
Without looking up to see who entered, she felt the trembling begin in her
stomach and spread throughout her body.
Spike looked at her in confusion before turning and standing to greet the
older man that he vaguely recognized as Buffy’s father.
“Mr. Summers,” Spike greeted, shaking her father’s hand. “Nice to meet you,
I’m William Giles.”
Spike saw Buffy turn to look at him upon hearing his name.
“You, too,” Hank said in what Buffy recognized as a fake voice. He used it
whenever talking to someone who wasn’t her. “Buffy,” he said, motioning
for his daughter. “This way.”
Buffy tried to calm her breathing as she stood to follow him out of the
room. “I’ll be right back,” she mumbled to Spike who was still looking at
her with some unease, brought on by her current mood.
Buffy walked into the hall with trepidation, pulling the door shut behind
her as she looked up to see Hank standing further away. Walking toward him,
she hung her head in defeat, hating herself for so many things. Not the
least of which was being born Hank Summers’ daughter.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked in a menacing tone.
“We’re working on a school project,” Buffy said, knowing that saying
anything would be futile, but saying nothing would be even more damaging.
“I’m so sure,” Hank said in a sarcastic voice. “What else were you
‘working’ on, Buffy?”
She stayed quiet, surprised when she felt her arm grabbed in a vice-like
grip.
“You’re quite the little slut, aren’t you?” he asked in a wicked tone.
“You’re a whore, just like your mother was!”
Buffy’s eyes snapped up to meet his. “Don’t you talk about her,” she said
in a low voice that disguised her fear.
“I’ll do and say whatever the hell I want,” Hank said, his voice rising.
“You’re my daughter.”
“Your daughter?” Buffy asked in disbelief. “You never even wanted to have
me! It was Mom who raised me. And turning out like her would be a hundred
times better than turning into you.” She noticed the tick in his jaw but
felt the power surge through her at finally standing up to him. “You call
me a whore, but you know what? You’re describing yourself!”
Buffy jumped and let out a yelp as she felt his fist impact the wall next to
her head as Hank lowered his head to look her in the eye. “You’re just
giving me a reason to send you away. Is that what you want, Buffy? To live
in some group home until you’re eighteen and they throw you out in the
street?”
Buffy’s eyes narrowed as she stared at him. “What about your ‘family
values,’ Father? It wouldn’t look good for the flawless Hank Summers to
ship his only motherless child away because he never wanted her to begin
with.”
Hank gritted his teeth as he looked at the small girl. “I don’t want to see
you,” he said in a menacing tone. “I don’t want to know you’re here. Stay
out of my way.”
Buffy watched as he walked away. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do,” she
said as he turned the corner.
Taking a deep breath, Buffy turned and walked back to the den, opening the
door to see Spike standing there with an unreadable expression. “You should
probably go,” she said softly.
Spike didn’t answer her as she walked past him. He watched as she began
gathering her things together before he turned and shut the door.
“Spike-“
“Does that happen a lot?”
Buffy shut her eyes, humiliation and shame filling her. “How much did you
hear?”
“Enough,” he said softly as he walked toward her.
Buffy looked down at the ground as she felt her chin begin to quiver.
“Spike, I know you hate me,” she said quietly, never raising her eyes from
the floor. “But…please don’t tell anybody about this. Say whatever you
want to me, but please-“
Buffy was cut off as she felt herself wrapped in a strong embrace. Spike
pulled her firmly against him, feeling her clutching at his shirt as she
buried her face in his chest and finally let her tears fall.
Buffy hadn’t had this kind of comfort in so long, she wasn’t about to turn it down.
Spike felt his heart wrench as he ran his fingers through her silky hair,
lowering his head until his lips were level with her ear. “I don’t hate
you, Buffy,” he whispered. “I'm here...I'll be here."
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