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Chapter Eight

Buffy perched on her couch and, taking a deep breath, dialed her mother. She had to set aside an hour just to do this. She was giving it an hour and no more than that. There would not be enough time for guilt trips and recriminations. She was going to tell he mother straight-forward and to the point that she was bringing William – his altar ego Spike would come later, she just didn't want to have to explain that one – and that he was her fiancé. Then she would get off quickly and maybe talk to her again once more before she left for home. It was her plan, dammit, and she was sticking to it.

Yeah, right.

"Hello?"

"Hi Dawn, it's Buffy. How are—"

"MOM!!! Buffy's on the phone!" Dawn, her little sister screamed. Buffy
held the phone away from her ear, her eardrums ringing.

"Hello?"

"Hold on a second mom. Going to change ears since my ear drum is now
shot to hell," Buffy muttered.

"Such language Buffy," her mother said disapprovingly.

"What? I said ‘hell'."

"It's not a nice word."

"It's not a swear mom. It's a place. So I hear anyway." And I'm in it right
now, Buffy thought.

"So you hear? Haven't been going to church have you?"

Buffy sighed, "No, I haven't. Guess I'm going to hell huh?"

"Jesus Christ Buffy you don't need to swear," her mother reprimanded.

Buffy couldn't help it, she had to laugh. "Okay mom."

"So, what do I owe the honor of your highnesses call?"

"Mom, don't start," Buffy said on a sigh.

"Your father worries about you. He's been having indigestion bad."

"Because he's worried about me?"

"I think he's been sneaking Taco Bell on the way home, but would it kill
you to call and check on him once in while?"

"What am I, his antacid?" Seriously, what was it about her mother—the
whole family bit—that turned her into such a sniveling brat in ten seconds
flat?

"So, tell me, to what do I owe this honor?"

"I'm calling to tell you that I'm bringing a guest to the wedding."

"You are? Honey, I'm so glad. Is it Willow?"

"No—"

"Because I have been rooting for you two to get together!"

"What?" Buffy asked her jaw dropping to the ground. She couldn't even
make sense of that comment.

"Honey, it's okay. I've known you've been gay for a while."

"Mom! I'm not gay! What made you—how could you possibly—what the
HELL are you thinking?"

"Well, you live with her, you never talk about any men, you're always so
busy and let's face it Buffy, you've never exactly been lady like and you
have such a quick wit, I just naturally assumed . . . it's nothing to be
ashamed of Buffy!"

"No, you're right its not, except, I'm not gay. I'm very hetero AND funny,
AND smart and I am so a lady!"

"Okay, dear. There's no reason to shout."

Way to make me feel even better about being single, mom, Buffy thought.
Then grinned devilishly. Oh, this was going to be fun.

"Well, as a matter of fact mother, I'm bringing my fiancé. His name's Spike.
I was hoping you might have room for us together so we can go at it like
bunnies. Oh, hey, I have to go, I'm hosting tonight's Satanic cult meeting.
See you Friday night!" And with that she hung up, her mother sputtering
on the other end. Buffy laughed out loud and then picked up the phone to
tell Spike all about it.



"So how many times has she called?" Spike asked as he lined up his shot
and struck the pool stick against the white ball, effectively knocking the red
striped ball into the intended hole.

Buffy laughed, "I counted at least three times in five minutes. I kept letting
the machine get it. She couldn't even get words out when it picked up. She
did however manage to tell me that my father was probably going to have a
heart attack when she told him." She sat perched on the high chair against
the wall, sipping a water. She took a quick sweep of the smoke free and not
at all shady bar slash restaurant slash pool hall. Spike had suggested they
go out for a bit before calling it a night and Buffy had readily agreed. Willow
had been out on a date and after the conversation with her mother—no
matter how fun the end of it was—had left Buffy feeling even more lonely
and bitter about being single.

"Are you going to talk to her before Friday? I'm afraid of what might
happen when we get there."

"What? You afraid of a few mine fields?" Buffy waved him off. "I'll protect
you."

Spike grinned as he leaned down to take his next shot. He met her eyes.
"Of that I have no doubt."

Buffy grinned back and watched Spike make the shot. "You know," she
stared thoughtfully, "You're really good at that. Maybe you could be a pool
shark and I could be your manager."

Spike laughed, "I don't think so, kitten."

"Come on; baby needs a new pair of shoes!"

"Baby could probably fit IN a shoe right about now."

"I'm gonna tell her how mean her Daddy is when she arrives," Buffy
pouted.

Spike missed the shot, shock at her words causing him to lose
concentration. Buffy's eyes widened a second after and their eyes met.

"What did you just say?" Spike demanded.

"I don't know why I said that. Honestly! I think with all the pretending and
my mother and –it just slipped out. I'm sorry."

He tipped his head to the side. "Why are you sorry?"

"I . . . don't . . . . know?"

He was staring at her so intently that Buffy started to fidget. What had
possessed her to say that? It had seriously just flown out of her mouth. She
really needed to start thinking before speaking.

"Hey, would you care to give little ol' me a lesson?"

Spike had been so busy staring at Buffy, and Buffy had been so busy trying
to come up with a way to get out of the uncomfortable state she was in, that
neither noticed the emaciated looking brunette coyly looking up at Spike
and twisting her bubble gum around her finger from her mouth. Buffy
rolled her eyes.

Spike blinked, dazed and Buffy wanted to smack him. Was he actually
falling for the act? And God, could she be any skinnier? If she ate a pea,
she'd look pregnant. And the skirt was much too short and her arms looked
like pipe cleaners. Buffy held out an arm and then a leg, studying them.

"I'm sorry, but I'll have to decline. I'm teaching only one tonight and that's
her," Spike said graciously, pointing to Buffy.

The woman shrugged and walked off.

Buffy looked up, startled at Spike's brush off of the woman. She stared in
disbelief at him. "You all right?" she asked him.

"Yeah, why?"

"You just said no to that girl. That girl that was coming on to you. You said
no to the girl coming on to you. Who are you and what have you done to my
Spike?"

Spike grinned, "your Spike huh?"

Buffy looked away, feeling self conscious all of a sudden for that remark as
well. "Well, yeah. So, what was that?"

"Just not interested," he replied as if it were the most natural thing in the
world.

"Anya leave you bitter?"

"Not exactly. Just left me. . . thoughtful."

"Thoughtful huh? So what, you're going to wait a week until you find your
next conquest?"

"Maybe even longer. Can we not talk about this right now?"

Buffy was stunned by that and a bit hurt. Since when did Spike not share
with her? Maybe he was more upset about breaking up with Anya than he
thought he would be. Maybe he was having second thoughts. She couldn't
help but think that Anya wasn't what Spike needed anyway. He needed
someone who really knew him, understood him, someone who challenged
him and made him laugh. Someone who didn't allow him to take himself too
seriously. Who could that be?





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