Chapter 8

Chapter 8-The Wright Stuff

The doorbell rang as Kristine Wright was cleaning up after lunch. She checked her reflection in the elaborately carved hall mirror as she went past, and quickly straightened her already perfect blonde bob.

Readying herself with a gracious smile, she opened the heavy wood door. The smile quickly faded when she saw who was standing in the shade of her veranda. There were four people; two young women--a petite blond and a redhead--a dark-haired man with a camera, and a very blond man in black leather. They all looked a bit nervous, except for the man in black, who seemed a bit dangerous until he smiled at her.

"Mrs. Wright?" asked the man in a heavy British accent.

Kristine nodded, "You must be Mr. Spike."

The others gave him odd glances. "Just call me Spike…or William, if you would."

"Very well...William. You said nothing about a group when we spoke on the phone earlier. Forgive me if I'm a bit surprised," Mrs. Wright admonished him sharply.

"It's my fault, mum, forgive me. I should've told you about 'em. These here are students at the University. I've taken 'em on as interns, all part of a journalist program they 'ave goin' there," William explained apologetically.

"I see…alright then. Please, come in," Mrs. Wright bade them as she opened the door more widely.

The group entered one by one, each stopping to introduce themselves before they entered.

"I'm Buffy Summers, Mrs. Wright. Thank you for allowing us to take part in the interview. Mostly, I'll be taking notes and observing," the pretty blonde girl told her.

"Welcome, Miss Summers," Kristine said as she shook the girl's hand.

Next, the boy with the camera offered a handshake. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Wright. My name is Xander. I'm photography guy…uh…I mean, I'm studying photojournalism. I'm looking forward to taking pictures of you and your family."

"Thank you, Xander. The family is quite excited to have their photos taken for an international newspaper."

"Hi! I'm Willow," greeted the redhead, cheerfully waving the tripod she carried. "I'll be helping Xander."

Kristine smiled at the girl, "Very nice to meet you, Willow."

Last, William Spike Esquire III took her hand and bowed slightly. "Thank you for bein' so sportin' about this. It's very gracious of you."

"Not at all, I'm happy to help further a good education," she replied somewhat cautiously.

The wealthy woman closed the door and turned to see the entourage admiring the grand entrance of her abode.

"You have a beautiful home, Mrs. Wright!" exclaimed Buffy as the hostess offered to take their coats and hung them on brass hooks in the stairwell.

"Check out the woodwork!" Xander gushed at the rich hues of caramel and chestnut that surrounded the room. The photographer looked through his lens at the massive wooden staircase, and followed the steps up to a landing with a large colorful stained glass window.

"This is cozy," observed the redhead who was warming her hands by the marble and wood fireplace. The fireplace was set inside the nook created by the grand staircase, and two leather wingback chairs completed the snug space.

"I love the decorations," Willow declared, pointing at the pine and rose garland that graced the mantelpiece.

"Victorian," was William's only comment, who looked at once oddly out of place and at home altogether in the old-fashioned manor.

Kristine Wright was immensely proud of her home, and found herself warming to this rag-tag group as they gave it praise.

"Please, call me Kristine and thank you. We love it here, too. Now, why don't we go into the parlor and meet the rest of the family?"

Christine led them to a sliding wood door on her right and pushed it open, revealing a large sun-filled room.

"Bloody hell!" muttered Mr. Spike stopping in his tracks.

"I beg your pardon?" Mrs. Wright asked uncertainly, glancing around to see if anything was amiss.

"It's the sun…not good for the photo session," Miss Summers hastily explained.

"Right…not at all good," the platinum blonde reporter agreed with a scowl.

"Oh! That's not a problem, we can go in the study," Kristine responded as she walked in the room and opened yet another sliding partition into the study. "Will this work?"

"Perfect," William answered as he dashed into the darker room.

Mrs. Wright turned and walked into the center of the sunlit parlor and faced her family, which were engaged in various activities. Her husband stood up from the couch, folded the Sunday paper he was reading and placed it on the coffee table.

"What's going on?" he asked his wife as he noticed the group of young people follow the flash of black and white that went into the study.

"Oh…the reporter brought some students from Sunnydale U…part of a program," she answered him distractedly as she surveyed her children for any sign of messiness.

Mr. Wright straightened his red silk tie and clapped his hands. "Okay, kids, everybody up! Put away the toys, turn off the t.v…. Jeremy, get off the phone!"

"Daddy, can you fix this?" asked his six-year old son, Jesse, holding out two pieces of a blue Power Ranger.

"Not now, son. The reporter's here, we're having our picture taken for a newspaper, remember?"

The boy lowered his head in disappointment and joined his siblings in their clean up effort. The Wright children had the room orderly in a matter of moments, and Kristine gave them each the once over before sending them into the study.

The last of the kids--the eldest, James--entered the cozy room and closed the partition behind him.

"There's seven! You have seven! A good number…seven!" Xander marveled.

Mr. Wright smiled at the young man and extended his hand. "We get that a lot," he laughed as he shook the boy's hand. "Jack Wright, nice to meet you!"

The photographer introduced himself. "Xander Harris…seven, wow!"

Mrs. Wright decided to step in and finish the introductions. "Everyone, this is Mr. William Spike, the reporter and his student assistants, Xander, Buffy and Willow." She pointed to each, then turned to her brood and announced them one by one. "This is our oldest, James, then Kaitlin, Jeremy, Jesse, Karen, Jacob, and Kayla…and my husband Jack. That's all of us, I hope!"

The four guests stood blinking for a moment, then William cleared his throat. "Right then. Let's get down to business, shall we? Harris, I mean Xander, you and Willow can start settin' up the equipment and me and Buffy will get on with the interview," he directed. "Why don't you, the twins and Mr. Wright have a seat right here?" Spike suggested to Kristine pointing at the large red velvet sofa in front of the fireplace.

The couple complied with his request, bringing Jacob and Karen along to sit on their laps. The 'old pro' newsman and his protégé pulled up a couple of antique chairs and began the interview.

Mrs. Wright retold the chilling account of the strange incident at the mall, while her other children grew restless and fidgeted about the room. She noted with mild amusement that William seemed more interested in the girl next to him than the story. Not that she blamed him for his interest; Buffy was beautiful and had a certain radiance about her. Xander and Willow had finished setting up the camera, and were whispering and watching with what appeared as apprehension. Probably nervous about the photo shoot, she concluded.

"We're all set here, Spike," Xander interrupted at last.

The British journalist slapped his black-jeaned thighs with both hands. "Marvelous! I'd say we're done with our chat, for now. Let's get the rest of the family over 'ere for the picture."

Jack was quick to round up his bored offspring and after some shoving and a bit of whining, they had all settled into a pleasant family pose.

The photographer leaned into his camera and adjusted his lens, while William slipped into the shadows. A chill went through Kristine's bones as she watched the formally friendly man's face harden and eyes turn cold. He seemed a reflection of the darkness he stood in, of death itself. Dread filled her like it had the previous night at the mall, and she was about to call off the photo session when she felt someone behind her. Startled, she jerked her head around and saw Willow pulling her hand from a black satin pouch.

"What are you doing?!" cried the mother of seven in alarm as a cloud of shimmering green and gold dust gently settled on her face.

"Somnus," the red-haired girl uttered softly as Mrs. Wright and her family fell into a deep slumber.

"Holy Hanna!" Xander exclaimed as he examined the unconscious family. "That was a close one, Will. Is she gonna remember what happened?

Willow grimaced. "No…maybe, I don't know! I'll tell her I was adding atmosphere or something."

"Let's not worry about that now, guys," Buffy interrupted. "We don't have much time, you said twenty minutes, right?"

"Give or take…I could throw more powder on them if the need arises, I guess," answered Willow, unsure.

"Not necessary, Red. I'll make quick work of it," Spike promised as he took the little boy, Jacob, into his arms. "Just want to get this soddin' mess over with," he grumbled.

With the boy in tow, Spike made a fast exit through another door to the study that led into the hallway. Certain that there would be a rear stairway, he headed toward the back of the house, with the Slayer close behind.

"Stay!" he commanded Buffy as he began bounding up the backstairs.

Buffy ignored him and continued to follow him to the second floor. Spike stopped at a doorway at the top of the stairs, and turned to face his stubborn pursuer.

"I said 'stay', woman! You don't need to see this."

Buffy opened her mouth in protest but recognized the pleading desperation in his eyes and swallowed her words. "I'll just wait out here…for backup."

Spike accepted her compromise with a furrowed brow and an almost imperceptible nod, and then he entered the room. As planned, the room he had chosen was on the north side of the house--indirect sunlight. It was a boy's room, decorated with racecars and primary colors, with a racecar-shaped bed. Spike lay the sleeping boy on the mattress, knelt down next to him and put on his game face. He took Jacob's small wrist into his hand, gently pierced the skin and began to drink.

Don't think about it ol' chum, just do. Never mind that Buffy's right outside the bloody door or that doin' this just proves what a monster you really are. Monsters do this sort of thing all the time, right? Yeah, she'll fall into your arms and thank you right proper for this noble act. 'Oh Spike! Thank you for sucking blood from children, you're my hero!' No problem, love, Vampires 'r' Us…now give us a kiss. 'Eeeewwww'. OW!

"FUCK!" Spike cried out in agony.

Through pain-blurred eyes, he saw the thrashing skeleton lying next to him on the floor.

"Grrrrrrrrrrrrr!" he growled as he fell on the bony demon and ripped its head off with a twist.

"Nice," he commented as the remains disappeared into thin air. "No mess."

"Spike?" called Buffy from the other side of the door. "Is everything okay?"

"Dandy," he said opening the door finding that Xander, Willow and Tara had joined Buffy. Tara and Anya had snuck in after the family fell asleep.

"Oh, great, an audience."

"I brought the little girl," Xander somberly responded, nodding at Karen resting peacefully in his arms.

They made a quick exchange, and Xander brought Jacob back downstairs to Anya, who was watching the family in case they woke up. Tara followed with her healing balm and applied it to the boy's wrist.

"He looks okay. Do you think he looks okay?" Xander asked Anya and Tara, nervously.

"Uh-huh. See? The ointment is already working," Tara pointed out, showing him the fading wounds.

"He's fine!" Anya reassured him. "He looks so sweet. They all do. Oh, I know! Take a picture! We can put them in funny poses."

Xander smiled at his future wife. "That might wake them up. Think I'll go back upstairs and help. Wait here, okay?"

"Okay," Anya answered as she leaned her face in so that her nose almost touched one of the sleeping forms.

Xander reached Buffy and Willow at the top of the stairs a moment later. "Is he still?" he inquired carefully.

Willow frowned and nodded, then sat down on the top stair.

The anxious Slayer leaned her ear against the door and tried to listen.

She heard a muffled cry inside, and they all heard some stomping and banging noises. Spike was cursing loudly.

"He did that last time, too," Buffy informed her friends, shaking her head.

Suddenly, a blinding flash of light shot straight through the wood of the closed door. A split-second later, Spike violently yanked the door open to find Buffy lying unconscious at his feet, and Xander and Willow looking on in shocked surprise.

"Bloodyfuckin'hell."

End Chapter 8