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Chapter 25


Buffy walked down the stairs, putting her earrings in when she saw Spike.
He sat in the living room with Michael, and he seemed to be eyeing her,
almost hungrily. Buffy shifted slightly under the extra attention but
couldn’t stop the thrill that coursed through her.

“What?” she asked with a smile, straightening her coffee-colored pants in
self-consciousness.

“You look beautiful, luv,” he said softly, taking in the silky cream-colored
top with the cowl neck. Her hair up in a loose bun with pieces
falling to frame her face just seemed to complete the picture.

Buffy blushed under the praise and smoothed out her top. It was actually
very modest compared to some of the other things he’d seen her in. The long
sleeves partially covered her hands, and the only exposed skin was a
hint of cleavage, but Spike couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

Spike watched Buffy walk around the room, his look slowly turning to a
frown. ‘She looks so grown up,’ he thought. ‘She doesn’t look old, just
more mature.’

He realized, with a sinking heart, that he’d caused that look. He’d left
her alone when she’d needed him the most, and it was his fault that a twenty
year old girl could pass for a sophisticated twenty-five year old.

“Hey, what’s with that face?” Buffy asked with a concerned smile as she sat
next to her son and his father.

“I was just thinking, luv,” he said softly.

“About what?”

“You.”

“Me?”

Spike looked down at the little boy, quietly flipping through the pages of a
book. “It’s not important,” he murmured.

“I think it is,” she said softly.

Both jumped slightly at the knock on the door, seconds before Michael jumped
up and fell on Spike’s stomach.

“Oomph!”

Buffy laughed as the little boy giggled, wrestling with his dad. She slowly
got up, answering the door for Angel.

“He’s still here?” Angel asked, gesturing to the Desoto parked in front of
the house. “It’s been hours.”

“He’s watching Michael tonight,” Buffy said with a shrug.

“He’s what?”

“Michael’s father is staying with him tonight,” Buffy clarified, letting him
in to see the two wrestling around on the carpet.

“Well, isn’t this cozy,” Angel muttered sarcastically.

Buffy shot him a look before walking over to her son. “Spike, my cell
phone number is on the refrigerator next to Mom’s. She’s out for the night,
but she said to call her if there’s anything you need and we’ll be back by
nine.”

“Ten,” Angel said from the doorway.

Spike glared at the other man before nodding at Buffy. “Bedtime at eight
and you just fed him dinner. We’ll be fine,” he replied, picking up his son
and carrying him over to Buffy.

“Bye bye, baby,” she said softly, smiling when he waved at her. “Can Mommy
have a kiss?” Spike felt his heart clench again when Michael leaned forward
and left a drooly kiss on his mother’s lips. She laughed, wiping her mouth
with the back of her hand. “What a good kiss,” she praised as she ruffled
his sandy blonde curls. “You have fun with your Daddy.”

Spike watched sadly as Buffy was led out the door with Angel’s arm wrapped
around her waist. ‘That should be me,’ he thought, growing more depressed
before Michael pulled on his hair. He laughed at the little boy’s antics
while putting him back on the floor for another tickling match.

* * * * *

“My God, Angel! He’s Michael’s father- it’s not like I left him with a
serial killer!”

The two had been arguing about Spike since they sat down at the table. This
came after a very tense car ride in which nothing was said.

“How do you know how he’s going to act with Michael?” Angel challenged,
taking a long swallow of his wine.

“Because I know him,” Buffy stated simply. “Because I trust him.”

“Do you trust him more than you trust me?”

Buffy began to get angry as she stabbed at her food. “Is that your
business?”

“Considering you’re with me, I’m thinking ‘yes’.”

“Do you really want to be having this conversation, right now? I thought
you wanted a night out to relax.”

“I did! That is, until you had the bleached wonder over to spend the entire day
with you.”

“He did not spend the entire day with me- he spent it with Michael. You’re
really going to have to get over your issues, Angel. Spike is Michael’s
father, and that’s the end of it. It’s my prerogative to leave him with
whomever I choose.”

Angel sat in silence as he finished his meal. Buffy pushed her plate away,
her appetite completely depleted.

* * * * *

Joyce Summers got out of her car when she saw the Mercedes pull into the
driveway. She was stunned when the normally happy couple got out arguing
about something.

“I hope you don’t think you’re staying here,” Buffy said, slamming her door
as hard as she could before walking around the front of the car.

“I’ve got a hotel room booked.”

“Good, you can go there now.”

“Is it a crime to want to check on Michael before I leave?” Angel asked in a
mocking tone.

“Bullshit!” Buffy cried, causing Joyce to raise her eyebrows as she searched
through her purse for her keys, actually just using that as an excuse to
stay outside a little longer. “You just want to go in there and argue with
Spike some more! Look, Angel, I’m sorry if my having a past bothers you, but
you’ll be hard-pressed to find someone who doesn’t have one!”

“At least I could find someone who hasn’t fucked their high school teacher!”

Buffy’s face seemed to turn to stone as Angel realized his mistake.

“Buffy, I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes, you did,” she said in cold tone. “And why wouldn’t you mean it? It’s
true.”

“Buffy-“

“Leave me alone, Angel. I really don’t want to talk to you tonight,” Buffy
said, turning around to walk away. She caught her mother’s eye, giving her
a tight smile before walking around the house to the backyard, wanting to
have a few minutes to herself.

Joyce watched Angel get back in his car, pulling away before she opened the
door to her house. She saw Spike sitting on the couch flipping through the
TV stations. He got to his feet when he saw Joyce. “Mrs. Summers,” he said
politely with a nod in greeting.

Joyce realized in that moment the kind of man that Spike really was. He’d
made some mistakes in the past, but he was still first and foremost her
grandson’s father, and she could forgive any indiscretions in the past.
Especially considering the act she’d just seen played out in her driveway.

“I told you a long time ago, Spike, to call me Joyce.”

His stance relaxed a little as he shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Michael’s asleep. I just checked on him. Buffy’s still not home.”

“She’s home,” Joyce said quietly. “It’s probably not my place to say this,
but they had a big fight.”

Spike felt his body flood with different emotions. “Really?”

“She seemed kind of upset,” Joyce said. “She’s in the backyard, and I think
she may need someone to talk to.”

Spike gave Joyce a grateful smile as he grabbed his duster. “I think I can
manage that,” he said, feeling his heart speed up as he walked toward the
backdoor.

He took a deep breath when he got to the kitchen. “Don’t mess this up,
Spike,” he muttered to himself. “This could be your only chance with her.”





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