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Chapter 8


Buffy surprised herself when she made it home and no tears were shed. She
refused to let herself be a victim in this scenario.

‘So we slept together…so what?’ Buffy thought to herself. ‘It’s not like
either of us made a big thing about it.’

Unfortunately, the same time her ‘voice of reason’ was speaking, another
voice was making itself known. The one that was screaming ‘LIAR!’

Buffy avoided her mother as she walked up to her room, collapsing on the bed
and trying to keep her mind off the peroxide menace who was clouding her
thoughts. She listened as the phone rang, waiting for her mom to pick up.
After the third ring, Buffy growled as she rolled onto her side, picking up
the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Buffy, listen to me, I-“

Buffy slammed the phone down, not caring to listen to him. Her frown
deepened when it began ringing again.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she nearly yelled into the phone.

“Please, luv-“

* * * * *

Spike nearly threw his cell phone against the wall of his classroom as she
disconnected the call. Sitting through the meeting had been a nightmare.
All kinds of scenarios were running through Spike’s head. What if Buffy
never made it home? What if she was sitting somewhere crying because he
was acting like a pillock? What if she truly believed he didn’t want her?

The last thought was what propelled him to make the phone call, not caring
at this point if her mother had answered.

An idea formed as Spike nearly leapt from his chair, searching his room.

* * * * *

Buffy stirred the spaghetti as her mother prepared the French bread for
their dinner. Both looked at each other when the doorbell rang and made a
silent agreement that Joyce had the easiest task to abandon.

Buffy poured the spaghetti into a colander, hearing quiet voices coming from
the foyer.

“Buffy,” her mother called a moment later. “You have a visitor.”

Buffy frowned, wiping her hands on a towel as she walked through the dining
room and froze in her tracks when she saw Spike standing next to her mother
with a smile on his face.

“Yes, Mr. Bradley?” she asked with an edge of coolness to her tone that did not go
unnoticed by Spike.

“Mr. Bradley just stopped by to drop off the notes you needed for a paper
that’s due,” Joyce said with a smile. “Wasn’t that nice of him to go out of
his way? He said you left them during your tutoring session today.”

Buffy frowned as she looked into Spike’s blue eyes. So many emotions were
conveyed in those sapphire depths, but the only one she could see clearly
was remorse. It made her feel a little better, but she didn’t know what he
was trying to accomplish with her mom standing there.

“It really wasn’t necessary,” Buffy said softly as she took a hesitant step
forward, holding out her hand for the fictitious notes. “I could have
finished the ‘paper’ without them.”

“Oh, Buffy, be polite,” Joyce chastised her daughter before turning to
Spike. “We’re just about to have dinner, would you care to join us?”

Buffy gave her mother a desperate look that was unnoticed by Joyce as she
waited for his answer.

A slow smirk spread on Spike’s face as he looked at Buffy. “If you’re sure
I won’t be an imposition.”

“Nonsense,” Joyce said with a smile. “Buffy, set an extra place for Mr.
Bradley.”

“It’s William,” Spike corrected. “Or Spike, if you prefer.”

“Spike? Where’d you get that nickname?”

Buffy stopped in the doorway, turning to raise an eyebrow at Spike, silently
asking if he was going to tell her mother the origin of his nickname.

“Old prison name,” Spike said with a joking laugh. “I killed some people by
running them through with railroad spikes. The name just stuck.”

Joyce and Spike shared a laugh as Buffy rolled her eyes, disappearing into
the kitchen.

“Anything I can do to help?” Spike asked, following her mother into the
kitchen.

Buffy sidestepped him as she walked back to the dining room, setting the
table.

“Sure, you can go ahead and take the salad and put it on the table.”

Spike nodded, grabbing the bowl as he walked into the other room. “We need
to talk, luv,” he whispered to Buffy.

She was about to respond when Joyce walked in with the bread. “Buffy, can
you get the spaghetti and sauce?”

“I’ll help you,” Spike volunteered as Joyce went to sit down.

Buffy stayed quiet as she poured the sauce into a bowl, tensing when she
felt Spike’s fingers ghost over her lower back. As his lips brushed over
her neck, Buffy took a step away, turning and handing Spike the bowl without
making eye contact with him.

“Buffy-“

“Mom’s waiting,” she said softly, turning to get the noodles.

Spike sighed as he left the room.

* * * * *

Buffy sat silently in her chair for nearly an hour as Joyce and Spike made
pleasant small talk, getting to know each other. She thought she would
retch as she watched her mother flirt with the man. The same man who,
unbeknownst to Joyce Summers, had been inside of her daughter just a few
short hours ago.

“May I be excused?” Buffy mumbled.

“Buffy, you hardly ate anything,” Joyce said, looking at her daughter’s full
plate.

“I’m not hungry,” she said softly, standing up to take her plate to the
sink. Passing through the dining room on her way up the stairs, Buffy
caught Joyce’s look. “What Mom?”

“Aren’t you going to thank your teacher?”

Buffy took a deep breath, turning to look in Spike’s eyes. “Thanks,” she
muttered.

“Not a problem.”

She turned and walked up the stairs when she heard Spike call her name. She
turned around with a sigh as Spike met her halfway, using the excuse of
handing her the fake notes to get close to her. Out of Joyce’s eye-line, he
leaned in close to Buffy. “I’m sorry.”

“Really?” Buffy asked disbelievingly with a raised eyebrow.

“I want you,” he whispered. “I need you.” Buffy’s lips tightened as he
took her hand, placing it over the bulge in his pants. “See how much I need
you?” he asked in a whisper.

Buffy pulled her hand away, fixing him with a hard gaze. “You’re sure it
was me that gave you that?” she asked quietly. “Or was it my mom?" Buffy
turned around, leaving a very confused Spike on the stairs.

Turning and walking back into the dining room, he suddenly realized Joyce’s
flirty behavior as she gave him a smile and offered him a mug of hot
chocolate. He had been so preoccupied with Buffy, he didn’t even notice the
attention her mother was giving to him.

“I think I’ll have to pass,” Spike said with a small smile as he took his
plate to the kitchen. “Early day tomorrow, and I still have some work to
finish up.”

“Oh, well…maybe a raincheck then,” she said in a hopeful tone.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he said, trying to let her down
easily. “My girlfriend might not like the idea.”

“Oh…you have a girlfriend?”

Spike thought of the young woman upstairs, upset because Spike was such a
ponce earlier. “Yeah,” he said softly. “She’s wonderful.”

“Lucky woman,” Joyce replied, walking him to the door.

Spike said goodnight as he walked out of the house, lighting a cigarette
when he got to his car. Turning around to face the house, he saw a single
light on upstairs and smiled as an idea formed.





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