Buffy Summers was having a wonderful dream-her mother was alive, and they
were eating a picnic lunch at the park in Sunnydale. It was warm, not a
cloud in the sky. Her mother was smiling at her and telling her how proud
she was of her, but all this was shattered by her father slamming open her
bedroom door and screaming at her to get the hell up and off to school.
It had been over a year since her mother had died from cancer. Her father had sent for her to come to Los Angles. She fought it, but the courts forced her to go. They told her it was either her father's house or a foster family. They also told her that when she was eighteen, she could move out on her own. Her father enrolled her in one of the best private schools in LA, but that wasn't good enough for Dawn-she had had to be home- schooled. But, Buffy always had something to look forward to. She would get letters from all her friends-Willow, Xander, and a few letters from Giles. She and Spike had an understanding that they weren't enemies anymore, but reluctant friends.
After the long day of school had passed, Buffy dragged herself to her new home, where she was greeted with a note on the door.
Buffy, I'm going to be home late tonight, and Dawn is spending the night at a friend's. Be in bed by nine.
Love, Dad
It seemed like Dawn was never home. She would always stay at a friend's house, but she would be home long enough to trash the house, make Buffy clean it, and take the credit. When Buffy opened the door, she cringed at what she saw: the coffee table was littered with dishes and papers, there was a pile of clothes on the floor beside the washer, the kitchen counter had open jars of peanut butter and jelly, and the bread was left open. It shocked her at just how much of a mess her sister could make in one day. But every day, when she came home from school, she cleaned the apartment, did her homework, and then went to work at the local dance club called Hollywood Nights, where she would waitress. Then, at 7:30 PM, when she got of work, she would go on a quick patrol. Then, she would climb into bed, exhausted, at 10:30. That was what she would do everyday-no dates, no friends, no parties. But, Dawn, on the other hand, got everything. Parties, friends, boyfriends-anything she wanted. Her father was very strict towards her, however. She was only allowed to call Willow and Xander on the weekends.
After she got off work, she decided against patrolling. She just wanted to go to sleep. Buffy was walking home when she walked right into someone.
"God, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Buffy asked, as she brushed herself off, then looked back up to the person she had slammed into. "Spike?" She whispered. Spike glanced down at her for the first time
"Buffy?" Spike asked.
"Oh my God, Spike! I'm so happy to see someone I know!" she said, hugging him.
"Same here. I bloody well hate this city. What brings you here?" He asked, smirking. She looked up into his eyes.
"You don't know?" She asked.
"No.what happened, Slayer? Why aren't you in Sunnydale, with the rest of the Scooby gang?" Spike asked, pulling her over to a nearby bench, and sitting down.
"Well, where should I start? Um.Mom died from cancer. Dad made me move here. I haven't seen Giles and the rest of my friends in months..." Buffy broke off into a sob, and Spike wrapped his arms around her.
"Shh, pet, don't cry," Spike said, kissing the top of her head. Buffy looked at her watch through teary eyes.
"I'm sorry, Spike. I have to get home," she said, standing, wiping tears from her eyes.
"Want me to walk you home?" Spike asked.
"Sure. That would be nice."
After a few minutes of silence, on the way to Buffy's, she finally spoke. "Spike, how did we go from mortal enemies to friends?" She asked, turning the corner to her dad's house.
"Can't say exactly when, but I think it was somewhere between the chip and Angelus," Spike said.
"Well, I'm glad that we are friends. This is it," she said, looking up at the large house in front of her.
"Here," Spike said, handing her a business card that said Hollywood Nights. "My number's on the back."
"Hey, I work there!" Buffy exclaimed.
"You do? Really? Well, I own the place." He grinned. "Want a raise?"
"You do?" Oh my God! Really? You're not kidding? Since when?"
"Nope. I own the place. It pays really well. I bought it about a week ago."
"I was thinking of quitting. I hate my manager. She is such a bitch to me," she said.
"No one's a bitch to my slayer. She's fired first thing tomorrow. Want to come watch me fire her?" Buffy started laughing, and the look on his face. She was so caught up in laughing that she didn't even notice her father come out.
"Buffy Ann Summers!" Her father yelled. "Get your ass upstairs in bed!" Hank Summers yelled, grabbing his daughter's wrist and pulling her inside, slamming the door.
From outside, Spike could hear Buffy apologizing for being late, and then heard something that made him want to rip Buffy's father's throat out.
"Dad, please," Buffy begged. "Don't be angry. I'm sorry I was late. I had to stay a little late at work and."
"Bullshit, Buffy. I called your work an hour ago. They said you had left already. And who the hell was that Billy Idol want-to-be looking freak you came home with?" Hank yelled.
"Just an old friend, Dad. I ran into him on the way home from work," Buffy said.
"So, that's what you're doing now? Whoring?" Hank yelled, furious.
"No, Dad," Buffy whimpered.
"Shut up!" He yelled. "I don't want to hear anymore. Get the hell out of my sight!"
"Dad, let me explain," Buffy started, but was cut short by her father hitting her. She didn't even see his hand coming.
"I said to get the fuck out of my sight, Buffy. You know, I'm glad your mother's dead, so that she won't have to see what kind of whore you've become." With that, Hank left the room, leaving his daughter crying in the corner.
Buffy slowly got up and walked up to her bedroom, and settled down on her bed, looking out her partly opened window. She was somewhat surprised when she saw Spike's bleached head pop up. Buffy got up and walked over to the window.
"Invite me in, Buffy?" Spike asked, as she leaned down to open the window.
"Sure, come on in. Sorry, I forgot you needed an invite," Buffy said, walking over to her bed and sitting down on the edge.
"I'm a vampire, pet. I'll always need an invite," Spike said, smiling. "Buffy, how can you let him treat you like that?" Spike asked, growing serious, and walking over to her and sitting down next to her.
"He's my dad, Spike. How should I treat him?" Buffy asked, tiredly.
"You treat him like a father. He treats you like shit," Spike said.
"He was afraid because I wasn't home. He doesn't want me to get hurt," Buffy said, looking down at the floor, afraid to look at him.
"He hit you," Spike said, running his hand gently down her now bruised cheek.
"He didn't mean to hurt me," Buffy whispered.
"Yes he did, Buffy," Spike said softly. "Look at me." When Buffy looked at him, she lost herself in his eyes. "Buffy, I know I spent months trying to kill you, and I know that you think that the chip is the only reason that I haven't killed, but it's not. I had the chip taken out a few months ago. I haven't killed, and I don't want to." Buffy pulled back from him, afraid that all this was a trick, just so he could kill her.
"Hey, I won't hurt you. I love you, and I know it's scary, messy, and wrong, but I do. I don't know when or how, but I do. You believe me, don't you?" Spike asked.
"I believe you," Buffy said, looking into his eyes, and seeing only truth in them.
"Tomorrow, when you go to work, don't clock in. Go to the back stairs, and go in the door at the top. That's where I'm staying now. If anyone stops you, just show them this card," Spike said, pulling out his wallet and handing her a small, laminated card that said VIP, and had Spike's signature, William Cortwell, on one side and Hollywood Nights on the other.
"All right," Buffy said, as Spike got up and climbed out the window. Buffy got up and walked over to the window, after him. She watched Spike jump down and walk toward the nightclub. Then, she changed into her pajamas and went to bed, her dreams filled with Spike, and for once, she didn't mind it.
It had been over a year since her mother had died from cancer. Her father had sent for her to come to Los Angles. She fought it, but the courts forced her to go. They told her it was either her father's house or a foster family. They also told her that when she was eighteen, she could move out on her own. Her father enrolled her in one of the best private schools in LA, but that wasn't good enough for Dawn-she had had to be home- schooled. But, Buffy always had something to look forward to. She would get letters from all her friends-Willow, Xander, and a few letters from Giles. She and Spike had an understanding that they weren't enemies anymore, but reluctant friends.
After the long day of school had passed, Buffy dragged herself to her new home, where she was greeted with a note on the door.
Buffy, I'm going to be home late tonight, and Dawn is spending the night at a friend's. Be in bed by nine.
Love, Dad
It seemed like Dawn was never home. She would always stay at a friend's house, but she would be home long enough to trash the house, make Buffy clean it, and take the credit. When Buffy opened the door, she cringed at what she saw: the coffee table was littered with dishes and papers, there was a pile of clothes on the floor beside the washer, the kitchen counter had open jars of peanut butter and jelly, and the bread was left open. It shocked her at just how much of a mess her sister could make in one day. But every day, when she came home from school, she cleaned the apartment, did her homework, and then went to work at the local dance club called Hollywood Nights, where she would waitress. Then, at 7:30 PM, when she got of work, she would go on a quick patrol. Then, she would climb into bed, exhausted, at 10:30. That was what she would do everyday-no dates, no friends, no parties. But, Dawn, on the other hand, got everything. Parties, friends, boyfriends-anything she wanted. Her father was very strict towards her, however. She was only allowed to call Willow and Xander on the weekends.
After she got off work, she decided against patrolling. She just wanted to go to sleep. Buffy was walking home when she walked right into someone.
"God, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Buffy asked, as she brushed herself off, then looked back up to the person she had slammed into. "Spike?" She whispered. Spike glanced down at her for the first time
"Buffy?" Spike asked.
"Oh my God, Spike! I'm so happy to see someone I know!" she said, hugging him.
"Same here. I bloody well hate this city. What brings you here?" He asked, smirking. She looked up into his eyes.
"You don't know?" She asked.
"No.what happened, Slayer? Why aren't you in Sunnydale, with the rest of the Scooby gang?" Spike asked, pulling her over to a nearby bench, and sitting down.
"Well, where should I start? Um.Mom died from cancer. Dad made me move here. I haven't seen Giles and the rest of my friends in months..." Buffy broke off into a sob, and Spike wrapped his arms around her.
"Shh, pet, don't cry," Spike said, kissing the top of her head. Buffy looked at her watch through teary eyes.
"I'm sorry, Spike. I have to get home," she said, standing, wiping tears from her eyes.
"Want me to walk you home?" Spike asked.
"Sure. That would be nice."
After a few minutes of silence, on the way to Buffy's, she finally spoke. "Spike, how did we go from mortal enemies to friends?" She asked, turning the corner to her dad's house.
"Can't say exactly when, but I think it was somewhere between the chip and Angelus," Spike said.
"Well, I'm glad that we are friends. This is it," she said, looking up at the large house in front of her.
"Here," Spike said, handing her a business card that said Hollywood Nights. "My number's on the back."
"Hey, I work there!" Buffy exclaimed.
"You do? Really? Well, I own the place." He grinned. "Want a raise?"
"You do?" Oh my God! Really? You're not kidding? Since when?"
"Nope. I own the place. It pays really well. I bought it about a week ago."
"I was thinking of quitting. I hate my manager. She is such a bitch to me," she said.
"No one's a bitch to my slayer. She's fired first thing tomorrow. Want to come watch me fire her?" Buffy started laughing, and the look on his face. She was so caught up in laughing that she didn't even notice her father come out.
"Buffy Ann Summers!" Her father yelled. "Get your ass upstairs in bed!" Hank Summers yelled, grabbing his daughter's wrist and pulling her inside, slamming the door.
From outside, Spike could hear Buffy apologizing for being late, and then heard something that made him want to rip Buffy's father's throat out.
"Dad, please," Buffy begged. "Don't be angry. I'm sorry I was late. I had to stay a little late at work and."
"Bullshit, Buffy. I called your work an hour ago. They said you had left already. And who the hell was that Billy Idol want-to-be looking freak you came home with?" Hank yelled.
"Just an old friend, Dad. I ran into him on the way home from work," Buffy said.
"So, that's what you're doing now? Whoring?" Hank yelled, furious.
"No, Dad," Buffy whimpered.
"Shut up!" He yelled. "I don't want to hear anymore. Get the hell out of my sight!"
"Dad, let me explain," Buffy started, but was cut short by her father hitting her. She didn't even see his hand coming.
"I said to get the fuck out of my sight, Buffy. You know, I'm glad your mother's dead, so that she won't have to see what kind of whore you've become." With that, Hank left the room, leaving his daughter crying in the corner.
Buffy slowly got up and walked up to her bedroom, and settled down on her bed, looking out her partly opened window. She was somewhat surprised when she saw Spike's bleached head pop up. Buffy got up and walked over to the window.
"Invite me in, Buffy?" Spike asked, as she leaned down to open the window.
"Sure, come on in. Sorry, I forgot you needed an invite," Buffy said, walking over to her bed and sitting down on the edge.
"I'm a vampire, pet. I'll always need an invite," Spike said, smiling. "Buffy, how can you let him treat you like that?" Spike asked, growing serious, and walking over to her and sitting down next to her.
"He's my dad, Spike. How should I treat him?" Buffy asked, tiredly.
"You treat him like a father. He treats you like shit," Spike said.
"He was afraid because I wasn't home. He doesn't want me to get hurt," Buffy said, looking down at the floor, afraid to look at him.
"He hit you," Spike said, running his hand gently down her now bruised cheek.
"He didn't mean to hurt me," Buffy whispered.
"Yes he did, Buffy," Spike said softly. "Look at me." When Buffy looked at him, she lost herself in his eyes. "Buffy, I know I spent months trying to kill you, and I know that you think that the chip is the only reason that I haven't killed, but it's not. I had the chip taken out a few months ago. I haven't killed, and I don't want to." Buffy pulled back from him, afraid that all this was a trick, just so he could kill her.
"Hey, I won't hurt you. I love you, and I know it's scary, messy, and wrong, but I do. I don't know when or how, but I do. You believe me, don't you?" Spike asked.
"I believe you," Buffy said, looking into his eyes, and seeing only truth in them.
"Tomorrow, when you go to work, don't clock in. Go to the back stairs, and go in the door at the top. That's where I'm staying now. If anyone stops you, just show them this card," Spike said, pulling out his wallet and handing her a small, laminated card that said VIP, and had Spike's signature, William Cortwell, on one side and Hollywood Nights on the other.
"All right," Buffy said, as Spike got up and climbed out the window. Buffy got up and walked over to the window, after him. She watched Spike jump down and walk toward the nightclub. Then, she changed into her pajamas and went to bed, her dreams filled with Spike, and for once, she didn't mind it.