Personal Attention by Jaesha

ReviewsRating: NC-17

Summary: After Spike Giles' wife leaves him for another man he falls into despair. Will Buffy be able to save him before he destroys himself?

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Chapter 9: Cooking with Pod People

Buffy watched as a truck, with the words ‘Finn Flooring’ emblazoned on the side in dull blue block lettering, pulled into the driveway of the house.

They were almost a welcome sight after the almost painful silence that had befallen the house following the incident in the kitchen between her and Spike. She hadn’t seen much of him in the five days that seemed to drag by at a snail’s pace. He spent most of his time in the studio, obviously needing his space from her.

Not that she blamed him.

Opening the front door to greet them, she froze when she saw Riley Finn jump down from the passenger side of the truck. This couldn’t be good.

“Buffy! How are you this morning?” Riley asked, walking over to her with a huge smile.

“Riley,” she replied in a false cheeriness. “I’m doing great. How about you?”

He leaned over and touched her arm. “Wonderful. I’m glad to see you again.”

Glancing over her shoulder nervously, she looked for any sign of Spike before patting his hand and returning his smile. “Yeah, me too.”

Now logically, she knew that Spike had no claim over her. They weren’t dating and hadn’t even progressed to the point where they could spend five minutes with each other without fighting, but none of that stopped her from feeling like she was being unfaithful to him by talking to Riley. It was ridiculous!

And yet, when he moved to put his hand on her shoulder, she backed away from him. Great, she thought, not only can I not have Spike, but now he’s ruined me for other guys, too?! This was just getting better and better.

If Riley noticed her shy away from him, he didn’t comment. “So, we’re all set to get this floor laid down, right?”



His fists clenched, Spike felt his anger come to a boil as he watched Buffy touch Riley’s hand and give him one of her beautiful smiles.

Oh, so this was how it was going to be? She wouldn’t give him a chance but she didn’t have any problems giving Farm Boy her attention? Bloody bitch!

Throwing the curtains back over the window, he stomped down the stairs and out to his studio. His music had been his only solace these last few days. He couldn’t talk to Buffy even though he desperately wanted to and he couldn’t keep his emotions bottled up for long before they exploded into rage. So music was his only outlet at this point.

He slammed the door and locked it, making sure he couldn’t be interrupted and plugged his guitar into the amp. Crashing his fingers into the guitar’s strings, the instrument screamed as if in pain.

It was no wonder she didn’t want him. He was a sorry excuse for a man, wallowing in his own self-pity and throwing tantrums. And he was still hurting over Dru’s careless disposal of him, that Buffy had been right about.

Love hadn’t been a part of their marriage for a long time though. He had convinced himself that he loved her for the sake of keeping them together, but the truth of it was he just hadn’t wanted to be alone. What hurt the most was how Dru had tossed him aside as if he had meant nothing. Even though he hadn’t been in love with her, he still cared for the woman.

His temper faded and he slumped down in an old green velvet chair. He was loosing his bloody mind. Things were blurry and disorientating now in a way he had never before experienced. Who the hell was he if he wasn’t Dru’s kept boy? Not the man she had made and not the boy he was before her, Spike questioned his own identity.

Rubbing at his temples furiously, he tried to wish the pain away. This wasn’t going to get any easier, he knew that, but a little reprieve from his insanity might be helpful in getting him through the worst of it.

It wasn’t fair to be piling all of his baggage on Buffy, either. She had wanted to help him, not to fix him. That was something he’d have to do all on his own.

Standing up, he decided to stop being such a child and go talk to Buffy. This tour was going to be rough enough without fighting with her and he needed her to be his rock. Even if she was just there physically it would help tremendously to know he had someone in his corner.

He found Buffy talking with Riley and he suppressed the urge to smack him upside his big, dumb head.

“Hey, Buffy,” he said, stopping to stand between them.

Her eyebrows went up in shock. “Uh, hey yourself.”

“So, how’s the floor comin’?”

“Well, it’s-”

“It’s coming along just fine, Mr. Giles,” Riley interrupted, his face going all business-like.

Okay, so he was going to ignore that the idiot just called him ‘mister’ and he was going to be an adult. Even if his muscles were twitching to punch the guy.

“Good. I’m glad t’ hear it,” he replied calmly.

Buffy just stood and gaped at him. Apparently, his whole acting-like-an-adult plan was working. Ha! Take that!

Suddenly, Buffy’s cool hand came up and rested against his forehead as if testing his temperature. “You don’t feel hot. Are you feeling okay, Spike?”

“Fine, luv. Why?” Inwardly, he was grinning. See, he could play nice with the grown-ups.

“You aren’t acting like yourself. Are you a pod person?” She asked, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

He smirked at her. “Not that I know of. Want t’ check me over more thoroughly?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You’re playin’ with fire there, girl.

Riley cleared his throat before he could answer. “I should get back to work. It was nice seeing you again, Mr. Giles.”

After Riley walked away, Spike couldn’t resist the offensive gesture he threw in the guy’s direction.

“Aw, there’s my guy,” Buffy said, flicking him in the arm.

“What can I say? I can’t stand that bloody wanker,” he replied, then amended it quickly. “But I played nice, didn’t I?”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “I suppose you did. Do you want a treat now?”

Depends on what the treat is…

“How about you jus’ have dinner with me tonight?”

He had missed her company at night, having grown accustomed to eating with her. And he had to say that her eating habits were downright entertaining.

“I don’t know, Spike. That doesn’t-”

He put his hands up in defense. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

Her eyes squinted skeptically at him and she made a humming sound. “Fine. After these guys take off for the day. Sound okay?”

“Sounds brilliant, luv. Absolutely brilliant.”


He cooked. He cooked?

Buffy had wandered to the kitchen after the work crew had left for the day to find Spike stirring something over the stove. When he had asked her to have dinner, she had not expected him to be the one cooking it. She figured they would just get take-out like they had every night since she had been there.

“What are you doing?”

Spike jumped a little before glancing over his shoulder at her. “What does it look like I’m doin’?”

“Well, it looks like you are cooking, but I guess my real question is why,” she replied, cautiously making her way to the stove to see what he was making.

“I thought that was pretty clear. When I asked you t’ eat dinner with me, I assumed you knew there would be food involved.”

Smacking him lightly on the shoulder, she leaned over to look in the pot. “You are such a smart ass.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment, luv,” he said with a smirk. “Be careful, now, or you’ll burn your cute little nose and I don’t fancy spendin’ the night in the emergency room.”

“It’s only fair; I spent the day in the ER for your drunk butt.”

“A million years will not erase that embarrassing chapter from my life,” he said, moving the pot off of the hot burner to rest on a colder one.

“Well, who’s fault is that, you big goo?”

Throwing up his hands in frustration, he replied, “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“I think barfing on my arm gives me exclusive rights to your humiliation for at least another year.”

“Jus’ don’t tell Oliver, alright? Then I’ll have him teasin’ me t’ no end as well.” Spike moved to the oven and pulled out a baking dish.

“Okay, I gotta ask, though,” she began, sitting down at the breakfast bar.


“If you and Oliver are such good friends, then why wasn’t I calling him instead of Xander at the hospital?”

“Besides the fact that I didn’t want t’ hear him say ‘I told you so’? He was visitin’ his sister in England at the time. Really wouldn’t have done me any good all the way over there,” he told her, putting food on ugly pink china.

She had often wondered about Oliver and Spike, how they could be friends after they’d been with the same woman. Dru talked about Oliver often and Buffy had a feeling that she had tried to get back with him at some point during her marriage. But as far as she knew, Oliver had never accepted.

If she ever found out otherwise, she might have to do something horrible to the man.

A plate was set in front of her and she inhaled deeply. It smelled wonderful. Who knew he could cook?

“It’s Chicken Parmesan with Penne Pasta.”

“It looks great, Spike.” She cut a piece and placed it in her mouth. It was like heaven, practically melting on her tongue. “Oh, god. This is so good!”

He smiled at her, taking a bit of his own. “Glad you like it.”

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” She asked, continuing to eat like she had been starving.

“My mum. Made sure I could take care of myself before I left the nest,” he replied.

“Well, she did a great job.” Buffy grinned. “With the cooking at least.”

Reaching his fork out, he poked her in the hand with it. “You are a bleedin’ comedian, Summers. Ha bloody ha.”

She knew she should be questioning his sudden change in personality, but she was just so glad for them not to be fighting anymore; she decided not to bring it up. Eventually, it would come back to bite her on the ass. Until then, though, she was just going to sit back and enjoy his company.

This was the Spike she wished was around all the time. It was if they were completely at ease with each other and the last few days just kind of melted away into the background until all that was left was here and now.

“So are you excited about the tour?”

She glanced up at him. “Not as much as you are probably.”

“It’ll be fun, luv. I promise.”

“Oh, yeah. Bunches of fun. Cramped on a bus with four stinky guys and a woman whom I’ve never met, having to beat off your groupies with a stick, and how could I forget the wonderful world of highway rest stops. Joy.”

“Well, jus’ wait until you try the food. You get your choice of burger, burger, burger, orchicken McNuggets,” he told her in mock excitement.


“Tell me again why I’m agreeing to this.”


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