Chapter 20
He turned the key, locking the car. Wiping his brow with the back of his hand he looked down at the front tire.
“Thank God for spares.” He muttered before walking up the driveway.
As he reached the house, he pressed the small button on his right and the doorbell sounded. Within seconds the door opened to reveal a glass-eyed Dawn staring up at him.
“Hey, Spike!” She greeted cheerfully.
She flung herself at his neck and wrapped her arms around it, holding onto him as he twirled her around.
“Hey, Nibblet!” He greeted back when he finally set her down and walked into the house.
Joyce stood at the entrance to the kitchen.
“Hello, Spike.” She greeted with a tender smile.
“Hey, Joyce.” He replied.
“Mom’s making lasagna!” Dawn said overly cheerful, but she couldn’t help herself, he was gorgeous.
“Perfect.” Turning to Joyce he added. “Joyce, mind if I use your bathroom.” He raised his hands, showing off his oil painted palms. “Had tire trouble on the way over.”
“Sure. Make yourself at home. It’s upstairs, first door on your left.” She pointed up the staircase.
“I’ll take him!” Dawn exclaimed, but just as she prepared to race up the stairs a strong hand held her by her arm.
“Oh, no, young lady. You are going to set the table just like I told you to.” Joyce ordered pointing into the kitchen.
“But-“
“No buts, I’m sure Spike can find his way, right Spike?”
He nodded.
“Sorry, Nibblet!” He apologized with a smile as he walked up the stairs.
He frowned when a familiar odour reached his nose, causing his nostrils to flare a bit. An image of her flashed before his eyes.
‘God, man. Hold yourself together. Now you smell her everywhere.’ He mentally scolded himself as he continued to walk up the stairs, but the image didn’t seem to want to leave him.
He came to a halt at the top, trying to remember Joyce’s indications. When he failed to recover the recent memory he simply walked down the hall and opted for the last door, at least in movies the bathroom was always at the end of the hall, right?
Turning the knob he opened the door; he froze in the middle of his stride as the familiar voice was heard:
“Dawn, how many times do I have to-“
He gawked as he watched her turn around, wrapped in the small white towel, her hair dripping down the side of her face, framing it.
‘Now I’m hallucinating too?’ His brain wondered while his mouth asked:
“What are you doing here?!”
He swallowed hard when she shook her head in confusion and her hand came to protect her exposed body. His eyes trailed along her wet and slippery form. God she was-
He stopped in mid-thought when he felt his body respond to the sight, his jeans suddenly growing too tight.
‘I’m fixed! It works!’ His brain shouted while his eyes remained glued on her.
They drifted up and down her body, her legs, her small hands pulling at the fabric of her towel, her bare shoulders, her- God, she had a gorgeous neck!, her… frown! He finally noticed it. That seemed to snap him out of his daze and he asked again:
“What are you doing here?”
“I live here!” Was her angered/confused reply. “What are *you* doing her-” He saw the instant change on her face, just before she exhaled: “Oh my God! You’re dating my mother?”
Spike frowned, he was still a bit dazed by the sudden encounter and the last question took a few seconds to seep into his brain, but when it did:
“WHAT?!” He exclaimed.
“God! Tell me you’re not dating my mother.” She practically begged him.
“What? No!” He denied vehemently, shaking his head.
“Then what the *hell* are you doing here?!”
“Joyce asked me over for dinner. She wanted me to meet-” He stopped in mid sentence. “Wait a sec. You’re Joyce’s oldest kid?”
“Yes!”
“You’re kidding, right?” He asked.
“No. I’m not.” She replied, setting her lips in a straight line.
Spike simply stared at her as the pieces of information he had started to form a logical image. But the picture soon faded into the background as his gaze refocused on her semi-naked body. His nostrils flared once again, her scent slipping in, causing his heart to skip a beat.
“Spike!” She called snapping him out of his daze.
He jumped up.
“Do you mind?” She asked tightening her grip around the towel.
“Oh, sorry, luv.” He muttered, not bothering to mask the disappointment as he turned his back to her. “I’ll just be downstairs.” He said walking out of the room.
Buffy’s jaw muscles ticked at the ‘luv’ reference. Sighing, she prepared to drop the towel when his voice caused her head to snap back to the door.
“Um, sorry!” He apologized sincerely, his nervous gaze bouncing off the walls to avoid her. “Mind telling me where the loo is?”
“Huh?” She asked, with a frown as she once again awkwardly hugged the towel against her form.
“The bathroom, pet.” He corrected and with a slick smirk his gaze landed on her again.
Buffy caught her breath at that.
“It’s, um… next door.” She answered.
“Thanks.” He said. His stare travelled up and down her shape one more time before he finally exited the room.
Buffy was left standing there, gawking at the closed door, her breathing coming in quick, shallow breaths.
~+~
“Did you find the bathroom?” Joyce asked as she pulled the lasagna out of the oven.
Spike nodded, holding up his now clean hands.
“Good. I hope you like lasagna.”
“Love it.” He replied, taking a seat at the isle.
“Are you ok?” Joyce asked, with a frown.
“I met your daughter. The eldest.”
“You met Buffy?” Joyce asked.
‘Now, you tell me her name.’ His brain shouted, while he nodded.
“I know her.” He added.
Joyce frowned.
“She’s um…”
How was he going to explain this?
“She’s the roommate of… someone I know.” He opted.
“You know Harmony? Where from?” Joyce questioned walking out of the kitchen carrying the lasagna while Spike trailed along.
‘I shag her on a regular basis.’ His mind answered. ‘Correction, I used to shag her on a regular basis.’
“Dawn, go call your sister?” Joyce said to the teenager that was sitting in front of the TV. Reluctantly, she stood up and dragged her feet to the hall.
“We met at a bar.” His mouth chose a more acceptable reply.
“Oh, you’re Harmony’s boyfriend!” Joyce deduced.
“BUFFY! DINNER’S READY!” Dawn shouted from the stairs.
Spike cringed at the sharp voice as he continued the conversation:
“Yeah… maybe.”
“Dawn, don’t just shout. Go upstairs and call her.” Joyce reproached, before turning towards Spike. “Maybe?”
“Things are… complicated.”
‘Yes, I’m shagging Harmony, but all I seem to able to think about is her aggravating roommate. Who just happens to be your daughter. How’s that for complicated?’
“I understand.” Joyce nodded.
~+~
Buffy stared at herself in the mirror, inspecting her fourth outfit that evening. She jumped up when the door to her room opened.
“Buffy, dinner’s ready.” Dawn announced. “What’s taking you so long? Spike and mom are waiting.”
“You know him too?” Buffy frowned, forgetting to scold her sister for entering without knocking.
“Who? Spike?”
Buffy nodded.
“Yeah. Known him since mom was in the hospital. He was there all the time.” Dawn said matter-of-factly before preparing to leave.
“Dawn, wait.”
The teenager stopped in mid-stride.
“So, you met him at the hospital?”
“That’s what I said.” Dawn replied a little bit annoyed. Her sister’s questions were robbing her of perfectly good Spike-time.
“So he’s a nurse or something?” Buffy wondered. It was amazing just how little she knew about him.
“Who? Spike? Of course not! Even though he did pretend to be a doctor once. It was hysterical!” Dawn giggled at the memory.
“So what was he doing there?” Buffy asked, curiosity getting the best of her.
“I think he was visiting a friend. I don’t know. He didn’t say much.”
“Oh, ok.”
“Are you coming? Lasagna’s on the table.”
“I’ll be right there.” Buffy replied, glancing back at the mirror.
That pink sweater made her look fat. Her fingers were already at the hem of the piece when she shook her head.
“What am I doing? Who cares if it makes me look fat?”
~+~
“Dawn, go see what’s taking-” Joyce stopped when her daughter finally walked into the room. “Finally.”
“Sorry. The other sweater had a stain.” Buffy lied, straightening her light-blue shirt as she sat down at the table, right in front of Spike.
Joyce sat at the head of the table and a giddy Dawn sat next to the bleached guest.
“Now we can eat.” Joyce announced as she started cutting the lasagna and serving.
Buffy’s eyes were fixed on her plate. For some strange reason she couldn’t meet the blue eyes staring back at her from the other side of the table.
“So, apparently you know Spike.” Joyce started the conversation, preventing the silence from settling in.
“Yeah.” Buffy muttered, picking up her fork and poking at her piece of lasagna.
The entire dinner was one of Buffy’s most excruciating experiences. When she had left her room she was determined to figure out just how Spike knew her mother and just what the hell he was doing at that hospital, but the moment she stepped into the dining room she seemed to lose her nerve.
The whole time, all she could do was avoid his piercing gaze. ‘God! Stare much!’ She kept saying to herself.
So she sat there, playing with her food while Joyce and Spike chatted, with Dawn occasionally stepping in with a comment or two.
“So Janice said that Tony was an idiot because he didn’t know what the hell-“
“Dawn!” Joyce stepped in.
“Sorry!” Dawn piped. “Because he didn’t know what he was talking about.” She inhaled sharply, catching her breath while staring wide-eyed at the smiling Brit. He was drop-dead gorgeous and that red shirt was… Ah! She sighed.
“Maybe Janice was right.” Spike pointed out, throwing a quick glance at her older sister.
Buffy quickly diverted her gaze back to her plate. ‘Stupid piercing blue eyes!’ She mentally pouted.
What was happening to her? She was afraid to look Spike in the eye? Well, he had just seen her half naked an hour ago, maybe that was it. She tried to fool herself, but her mind insisted on flashing back to their previous meeting. She swallowed hard as she was mentally transported back to that small space, trapped between his body and the door to her apartment.
“Well, dinner was great, but I really need to get going.” Spike’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
“Already?” Dawn whined.
“Yeah. I have a few things to take care of tomorrow.”
“But tomorrow’s Saturday. No one works on Saturday.” Dawn pointed out.
“I do, Nibblet.” Spike replied standing up.
“Are you sure?” Dawn insisted.
“Dawn, stop whining, can’t you see he has stuff to do.” The words were out of her mouth before she could think.
“Yeah, I really do.” Spike said, running his hand over Dawn’s head while his gaze met Buffy’s for a second, before she looked away.
“Well, if you have to.” Joyce stood up and walked after Spike and Dawn. “It was nice having you over. You should come more often. God knows I owe you from all the times you’ve given me a ride home.”
‘Please, don’t come more often. Stay away, stay away.’ Buffy hissed mentally.
“You don’t owe me a thing, Joyce and the lasagna was wonderful. Thanks for having me over.”
“You’re welcome.” Joyce smiled back as she opened the door for her guest.
“See you, Joyce. Daw-” Before he was able to finish, the teenager’s arms were wrapped around him. “Night, Nibblet.” He stood up straight and his eyes found Buffy standing at the back of the hall. “Buffy.” He nodded his goodbye and turned around.
She gasped as the sound of her name made her heart accelerate for a split second. She inhaled sharply.
“Mom, why didn’t you tell me you knew Spike?” She demanded the moment the door shut closed.
“How was I supposed to know you knew him?” Joyce wondered with a frown, heading for the living room and picking up the plates.
Her daughter stomped her way after her while Dawn announced that she was going to bed.
“Night, sweetheart.” Joyce replied, walking back into the kitchen as her teenage daughter raced up the stairs. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”
“I told you about him like a thousand times! Harmony’s irritating Neanderthal excuse for a boyfriend?” Buffy continued with an annoyed tone.
“You said he was called Thorn.” Joyce defended herself, rolling up her sleeves and starting to wash the dishes.
“Thorn, Spike, it’s the same thing!” She exclaimed.
As a response Joyce simply dispensed a sarcastic glance her way, raising her eyebrow.
“What?!” Buffy asked defensively.
“I was supposed to know that Thorn was actually Spike?”
“Yes!”
“Of course, how could I not know that?” Joyce said sardonically, shaking her head.
There was a moment of silence before Buffy spoke again.
“So… You know him from the hospital?”
“Uh-huh.” Joyce nodded.
Pause.
“What was he doing there?” Buffy finally asked again.
“I think he was visiting a friend.” Was Joyce’s irritatingly short reply.
“What friend?”
“A girl. Poor thing had been run over by a drunk driver. Spike was devastated. He came to check on her every single day at the hospital. The first few nights he spent them in her room, sleeping by her bed, just to make sure she was alright. The nurses had to drag him out and tell him to go home most of the times. One of those times he came into my room to hide for a few minutes before he could go back to see her. That’s when I met him.”
“Spike was worried about someone other than himself? That’s new one.”
“Why do you say that?” Joyce asked.
“Cause all he thinks about is himself.”
“Maybe you just don’t know him.” Joyce pointed out.