Part 3
Joyce quickly locked the door to the gallery, peering around anxiously. She usually tried to be home before nightfall, not entirely oblivious to some of the strange happenings that seemed to occur in Sunnydale. She just remained ignorant to the heroic part her daughter played in all of it.
Walking quickly, she reached her Jeep in the vacant parking lot, allowing herself to relax a fraction as she pushed the key into the lock. With traffic now waning due to the lateness of the hour, she figured she would be home in ten minutes. ‘Buffy had better have her homework finished,’ she thought fleetingly, just as she opened the driver’s side door and prepared to slide in.
Joyce jumped in alarm, then downright panic, when the door was suddenly wrenched from her grasp, and slammed shut. Whirling around, she was faced with a trio of men. ‘Not men,’ she decided. These were some of the monsters that had been whispered about, and her life flashed before her eyes as she realized by their sinister grins that they weren’t here merely to hitchhike.
“Well, look fellas. We have the Slayer’s mom here,” one of them announced proudly, bringing a round of chortles and cat calls. “What should we do with her?”
“Let’s eat her, and leave her on the Slayer’s doorstep to trip over,” came the brilliant suggestion.
“Yeah. I kinda like that idea.” They began to close in on Joyce, and she got an up close and personal look at the sharp teeth and protruding foreheads they seemed to all sport. ‘Early Cro-Magnon man, perhaps?’ she thought in a brief moment of blinding hysteria.
Just as Joyce could feel their tepid breath on her neck, her eyes scrunched tightly shut in fear while she berated herself for lacking the will to fight for her life, they were suddenly… gone.
Joyce’s eyes flew open to find a sprinkling of dust settle to the ground where the evil men used to stand. In a state far beyond mere confusion, she looked blankly at the blonde man holding a sharp, pointed object in his hand.
“Did you just… do something?” Joyce asked haltingly.
He nodded his head in disgust. “Yeah, I did.” Spike turned to storm off, when he noticed the rest of the band of idiots beginning to gather. They were all young, but they had figured out how to gang together, making them more formidable than Spike felt like dealing with right now.
Shaking his head wryly at what he was about to do, Spike turned around and grabbed the set of keys that were sticking out of car door. “Get in,” he ordered, opening the driver’s side door and slid in behind the wheel.
Joyce stood looking at him, her feet seemed glued to the pavement, and Spike roared his impatience. “Look, I think you’ll be wanting to be gettin’ in right about now. Or you can always take your own chances against that lot.” He gestured behind her towards the rapidly advancing group of vampires.
Joyce spun around, her eyes widening comically at the approaching gang of… whatever they were. Without a second thought, she hurried around to the passenger door. With a quick flick of her wrist, she had the door open and launched herself inside the vehicle. She had barely gotten the door shut and her seatbelt buckled before the blonde stranger had the SUV in reverse, and gunned the gas pedal, sending them roaring out of the parking lot.
A terse silence filled the car during the short drive, Joyce being too frazzled to attempt any conversation. And quite frankly, she was a bit frightened by her rescuer. He had been alternating between scowling and smacking the steering wheel practically the entire way, and he didn’t look like he’d win the award for Sunnydale’s most stellar citizen. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the man had some serious issues.
Just as they were pulling into her driveway, Joyce finally came to her senses. “How did you know where I lived?” she demanded, in what she hoped was a threatening tone.
“Listen, if I’d wanted to do ya in, I bloody well would have already,” the man bit back in his exaggerated British accent, exiting the Jeep, and tossing her the keys.
Joyce warily kept her eye on him as they walked up the stairs leading to the front door, still feeling the need for her obviously reluctant bodyguard. She slipped her house key into the lock, and opened the door. She looked quizzically over her shoulder at the good-looking stranger, and found him standing just outside her door.
“Gonna invite me in?” His voice seemed to hold a challenging note that Joyce immediately responded to.
“Fine, come in.”
A smirk spread across his face, and he casually strolled across the threshold. Spike had taken his chances and dared her like he would’ve her daughter. Apparently, they were both cut from the same cloth.
“Mom?” a voice called, as footsteps pounded down the hallway upstairs.
Spike waited with anticipation as the Slayer flew down the stairs in her usual youthful exuberance, his smirk broadening into a full fledged grin.
A quick intake of breath alerted him that his presence had been duly noted, as she glared at him from the middle of the stairs. “Well, well. If it isn’t my favorite damsel, in the very flesh,” Spike drawled, eyeing her revealing top and tight jeans appreciatively.
“And wow, look at that. It’s wee Willie.”
“That’s Wallopin’ Willie to you, Slayer,” Spike practically snarled, his temper immediately piqued as only she could manage to do.
“Oh… I’ll wallop your willie, Spike,” Buffy shot back, taking the rest of the stairs menacingly, her hand reaching for the stake she always kept in her back pocket. She stopped right in front of him, her chin tipped up defiantly, completely ignoring her mother’s stunned presence.
To her surprise, Spike began laughing. Deep, rich chuckles that sent delicious little shivers running through her again.
“You’ll do what to my willie, slayer?” Spike asked, his voice colored with amusement, and a hint of something else.
Buffy, who had hardly ever blushed in her life, found herself with cheeks the color of crimson. Again. Luckily, Buffy’s mother butted in about that time, so Buffy was saved from being forced to give a witty retort, which she found herself so totally incapable of at that moment.
“Buffy? You know this man?”
The two blonde’s heads turned in unison to regard Joyce. “Yes,” Buffy remarked churlishly. “Unfortunately.”
“Hey, better be nice now. I just saved your mum.”
It finally dawned on Buffy that Spike was in her house. And her mom had invited him in. Rounding on her mom, she lectured, “Mom, you can’t just go inviting strangers into the house! We live in Sunnydale!!!”
“And that makes a difference… why?” Joyce asked, her confusion turning into outright suspicion with the odd behavior her daughter was displaying.
“Because… because… it just does, ok!!” Buffy exclaimed heatedly, placing her fisted hands on her hips. “So, what happened? Are you ok?” For some reason, she knew that her mom hadn’t been in danger in Spike’s presence. Just like she knew that if she even dared to repeat that to her friends or her Watcher, they’d probably lock her up and throw away the key. It was just… a thing. Just like she kinda knew Spike felt the same way, which is why he felt so totally unthreatened in her presence now.
Her mom drew herself up, finally calling on her internal strength to get a part of her frazzled emotions under control. “Yes, Buffy, I am fine. Now.” She cast a look towards Spike, who she found regarding her daughter. “Your… friend here rescued me, I think.” Spike finally turned his intense, blue eyes in her direction, and Joyce asked, “What were those things?”
“Uh…” Spike began, looking at Buffy with an amused look on his face. Fancy that. The Slayer’s mum didn’t know she was the Chosen Bird. That was… well, amusing.
“Oh! I know this!! I thought maybe they were Cro-Magnon, but now I see just how off I was!!” Joyce said excitedly, reverting back into her frazzled state. Buffy looked at her mom cautiously, finding her entirely too exuberant for the present circumstances. A dazed gleam seemed to shine in Joyce’s eyes, as she continued her train of thought. “Yes! They weren’t Cro-Magnon at all! Not with those foreheads. No, I think they were more of the… Neanderthal era.”
Spike and Buffy watched as Joyce began to pace the room with a distracted air, mumbling to herself. “Your mum is off her nut,” Spike commented.
Buffy glared at him. “It’s your stupid fault.”
“Oooh, stop with the harsh words, luv.”
“Shut up.”
Joyce’s ramblings began to get louder, as she tried to puzzle things out in her head. “But… why did they turn to dust then?” She brought her index finger to her lip as they pursed with intense concentration. Then she gasped suddenly, and turned to them excitedly. “I’ve got it! It’s like that movie… what was it called… with the guy frozen in the ice?”
“Encino Man?” Buffy supplied helpfully.
“No, no! Not that one. Oh! I have it! Iceman. It was Iceman, wasn’t it? Where they find that guy who had been frozen in the ice for what, thousands of years? And brought him back to life? With Timothy Hutton?” Joyce hadn’t been really asking a question, and she began to pace around again, comparing the vampire attack with the movie Iceman. Her manner was almost schizophrenic, and Buffy began to regard her with concern. She was calm, then wiggy; calm, then wiggy. It was unnerving.
Suddenly, Spike shifted into game face when Joyce’s back was turned, and began walking hunched over, his arms dragging at his sides in his best caveman impersonation. “Pita…” he said in a raspy voice, then eyed her frantically through yellow eyes, his head tossed back crazily. “PITA!!!”
Buffy eyed him incredulously, before remembering the only line that the resurrected caveman had delivered in the whole movie her mom was rambling on about. She couldn’t help the giggle that slipped past her lips. Suddenly, the whole situation struck her as hilarious, and she slapped her hand over her mouth as a whoop of laughter erupted.
Joyce whipped around just in time to see Spike’s features smooth out once more. Her startled gasp served to end Buffy’s hysteria, and she sobered quickly.
“Buffy, just what is going on. And don’t tell me nothing, because I’m not going to buy that anymore.” Joyce watched as Buffy exchanged looks with Spike, then turned back to her.
“Fine. But just don’t freak because I didn’t tell you before, ok?”
Her mom crossed her arms over her chest, and gave her a look that Buffy knew very well. Joyce pointed to the couch, and Buffy moved to follow her mom’s unvoiced order.