If Not Wisely

Chapter 15:  The Kitchen part 1

Spoilers:  Begins immediately post-Wrecked, becomes AU after that.

Rating:  R for swearing and some sexual situations.

Disclaimer:  Not mine.

Feedback:  Would be highly appreciated.  This is my first attempt at fanfic, and I'd like to know how I'm doing.  Constructive criticism is welcome.

Distribution:  So far, just here.  If anyone wants it, just let me know.

Summary:  Buffy continues to struggle with her feelings for Spike, and the whole gang tries to help Willow with her abuse of magic.

A/N:  Here's the new chapter!  Sorry it took so long.  Thanks for all the feedback.  Keep it coming; it gives me warm fuzzies!  Please review and let me know if you like it.  If you absolutely hate it, let me know why.  Thanks!

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Dawn was not out the door for school five minutes, before a smoking blanket barreled its way into the Summers' kitchen.   Buffy looked up from the breakfast dishes she was washing with a grimace.  Spike had thrown the blanket down on the floor, and was busy stomping out the smoldering parts. 

"Mornin', luv," said Spike, once he'd successfully put an end to the smoking.

"Spike, what are you doing here?"

Spike put on a mock hurt look.  "Why, Slayer, you wound me.  No, good morning?  No, how are you, Spike?"

Buffy gave a heavy sigh and turned off the running water.  "Good morning, Spike.  How are you today?" she said in a mockingly cheerful voice.

Spike smirked at her.  "Well, I'm dreaming in iambic pentameter and having heart-to-hearts with the Whelp.  Other than that, I'm just peachy, ducks.  Thanks for asking."

Buffy just stared at him.  He was dressed in his usual duster and black jeans, but he was wearing some sort of clingy, gray shirt that she'd never seen before.  She was seriously liking the way he looked in that shirt.  Her eyes glazed over for a minute as she remembered their last night together.  The way he'd made her feel, well, it'd been unbelievable.  It took every ounce of Buffy's concentration not to drool at the sight of him.

"Slayer?" 

Spike was looking at her quizzically, and Buffy quickly shook her head to clear her thoughts.  "What was that?  Something about ambling pentagrams?"

He laughed at that.  "I swear, they must not teach you anything in those bloody American schools.  I thought you went to University, luv?"

Buffy was definitely lost in this conversation.  "Univ—oh, college.  Yeah, I went to college.  Well, for a little while anyways.  What does that have to do with pentagrams?"

Spike laughed again.  "Not pentagrams, luv, iambic pentameter.  It's a type of verse written in five metrical feet in which an unstressed syllable is followed by—you know what?  Never mind, it doesn't matter."

Buffy threw her hands up in frustration.  "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about!  Why don't we just get back to my original question?  What are  you doing here?"

Spike shrugged out of his duster and draped it over one of the stools at the island.  "Just wanted to see how you're doing, is all."  He walked around the island and stood just a few feet in front of Buffy, shoving his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.

She swallowed hard and tried not to stare at the way Spike's new gray shirt stretched across his perfectly muscled chest.  "Spike, it's 7:30 in the morning.  The sun is out.  You just decided to risk spontaneous combustion to walk over here in broad daylight and see how I'm doing?"

He smiled and moved closer to her.  "Well, you left in such a hurry the other night.  I just wanted to make sure that you're okay."  He reached out and grabbed a lock of her hair, twirling it almost absently.  "You know, with everything that happened."

Spike was definitely invading her personal space, and Buffy hated the way it made her feel.  One part of her wanted to grab onto him and never let go.  The other part--the rational, Slayer part—wanted to run screaming in the opposite direction.  She stared at his chest for a moment, avoiding his eyes, until the rational part finally won out.  She slapped his hand away in irritation.  "Stop that." 

Spike bit back a caustic reply and let the offending hand fall to his side.  He was in such a good mood that he hated to throw it all away by getting into yet another bickering match with Buffy.  "So?" he asked with a sexy grin.

"So what?" snapped Buffy.   He was still standing alarmingly close to her, and she was fighting the urge to push past him and get the hell out of there.

"So,  how are you?"

Now, Buffy did push past him.  She stomped around to the other side of the island and turned to glare at him.  "I told you that I don't want to talk about it!  It was a mistake, and you know that.  Why the hell do you even care how I'm doing, anyway?  You got what you wanted."  She raised her chin in a defiant challenge.  Nobody makes Buffy Summers talk when she doesn't want to.

Spike frowned.  He'd expected some resistance, but this reaction was a little over the top, even for her.  "Luv, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?"  Buffy was practically screaming now.  "I just fucking told you what's wrong!  I don't wanna talk about what happened.  We.  Had.  Sex.  That's all!  It doesn't mean that I'm in love with you; it doesn't mean anything."  She looked at him levelly, hoping that she could just get him mad enough to leave.  Maybe if he left, then the torrent of emotions raging inside of her would go away as well.

Spike refused to rise to her bait.  In fact, he remained amazingly calm in the face of her anger.  "No," he said quietly, "that's not it.  Something else is bothering you.  Why don't you just get if off your chest?  You'll feel better, luv."

Buffy felt her lower lip begin to tremble.  As usual, Spike saw right through her.  It was both his best and most infuriating quality.  She could never pretend with him; he never let her.  Defeated, she crumpled onto a stool.  Suddenly, she felt incredibly weary.  She just didn't have the strength.  "Spike," it came out almost as a sigh.

Spike crossed the kitchen and took the stool next to Buffy's.  He grabbed her hand and gently turned her to face him.  "You know I'm always here for you, luv.  If there's some kind of problem, just tell me.  Who knows, maybe I can even help fix it?"  She gave him a weak smile.  "Now, what's wrong?"

Buffy sighed, heavily this time, but she did not pull her hand from his.  "What's not wrong, Spike?  Everything is going to shit, and I don't know what to do about it."

"Tell me," he gently probed her to continue.

"I wouldn't even know where to start."

"At the beginning."

"All right, but you asked for it."  Buffy gave him another small smile.  "First of all, I am almost totally broke.  Dad hasn't sent a support check in months, and I have absolutely  no source of income.  The bills, on the other hand, just keep rolling in.  I don't think I'm going to be able to pay the mortgage this month."

Spike looked almost relieved.  "That's it?  That's the big problem?  Money?"

Buffy scowled at him.  "Yeah, Spike, that's the problem.  Money.  As in, I have none."

He gave her a rakish grin.  "Luv, I can get you money.  That's no problem.  I can take care of you and the Little Bit."  He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.  "Let me help you."

Buffy roughly snatched her hand from his.  "And just where the hell are you going to get money?"

"There are ways…"

"Like what?  Stealing?"  She fixed him with a hard stare, and he did look a little guilty.  "No, forget it!  I'm not going to have you out stealing to support me!"

"But, luv—"

"No!  Don't even think about it!" Spike looked like he might try to plead his case some more, but Buffy cut him off.  "Besides, I wouldn't accept any money from you anyway.  It's not your job to take care of me.  I'm a big girl, and I can take care of myself—and Dawn."  She raised her chin at him again and tried to look more confident than she felt.  In reality, Buffy had no idea how she was going to do it.

For some reason, Buffy's determined act just made Spike feel even more saddened for her.  "Buffy," he tried to reach out for her hand again, but she pulled it away, "I love  you.  I want to take care of you, and the Little Bit, too.  If a little robbery's out of the question, fine, I'll find another way.  I can…get a job, or something.  Maybe we could bully Willy into giving me a job, or maybe I could work at that other demon joint, the one where I play cards.  Just let me help you." His eyes were pleading with her.

Buffy turned to look at him, and the love that she saw in his eyes made her throat constrict.  It would be so easy just to let him take care of her, just to heap all of her problems onto him and wait for them to go away.  It would almost be like having Giles back again.  No, she couldn't do that.  She'd learned her lesson with Giles, and it was time she learned to stand on her own.  She was an adult now, and she had to stop running away from her problems and letting someone else take care of them.  Buffy knew that Spike would gladly shoulder all of her burdens if she let him, but it still surprised her that he'd actually offered to get a job.  She was once again hit by the startling reality of how much he really loved her and her sister.

"Spike…"  She lifted her hand to the side of his face and saw his eyes light up at the contact.  She never ceased to be amazed at how he could continue to love her so much after the way she'd treated him.  She gave him a heartfelt smile.  "You are so sweet.  That was probably the nicest thing anyone has ever offered to do for me.  Don't think I don't appreciate it, but I have to do this on my own."  She saw his face fall at this.  "I know that you want to help, and, believe me, I'm really tempted to let you, but I can't.  It's time I learned to stand on my own.  I've been letting everyone else take care of my problems for me, and I can't do that anymore.  It's time for me to grow up."

Spike leaned into her hand, which she still had not moved from his cheek.  "But, luv, what will you do?"

Buffy gave a little laugh, but there was no humor in it.  "I'll do what everyone does, I guess.  I'll get a job, and I'll pay the bills and put food on the table."  She stopped for a moment, lost in thought.  Her hand fell from his face, and Spike sighed at the loss of contact.  "I'll take care of Dawn.  I haven't been doing so hot in that department, but I'll do better.  I have to take better care of her.  I need to be here for her…like Mom used to be."

 He put a hand on her leg and was glad to see that she did not shrink from his touch.  "Hey, you're a good mum to the Nibblet.  She knows how much you love her."

"I know."  Buffy sighed.  "But, it's not enough.  She needs more than just a sister who loves her; she needs a parent."

"I can help.  You know how much I love Dawn."

Buffy smiled at him again.  "I know you do, and she loves you too.  Maybe you could look after her sometimes?  You know, when I'm at work or out slaying."

"You know I will."  He smiled back, and, before he could stop himself, stood up to pull her into a hug.  Spike was delighted when she melted into his embrace.  "I love you, Buffy," he whispered into her hair.  "I'll help you any way you let me.  You'll get through this; I promise."

"Thanks, Spike."  Buffy wrapped her arms more tightly around his neck.  "Thank you."  They stayed that way for a while, until it became too much for Buffy.  She felt herself getting dangerously close to loving him, and she just wasn't ready.  "Okay," she said brightly, pulling from his arms and returning to her stool.  "Time to find me a job.  Where do you think I should work?"

Spike returned to his seat, as well.  "Dunno, luv.  What are you fit for?"

"Not much," said Buffy dryly.  "Hey, I could always work at The Doublemeat Palace.  They'll hire anyone.  Last time I was there, they had mentally challenged adults working the counter, so I'm sure I could get them to hire me."

"Over my dead body!"  Spike caught the sardonic look that Buffy shot his way and gave her a rueful smile.  "You know what I mean.  No bloody way in hell are you are working in that place."

"Why not?  It's just as good a job as any!"

"Luv, have you seen the people that work there?  They're like bloody zombies!  That place will suck the life right outa ya.  No, think of something else."  He thought for a moment.  "What about the shop?  I'm sure that the demon chit," he stopped suddenly and shook his head, "Anya, I mean.  I'm sure that she'd hire you back."

"Uh, unh."  Buffy grimaced.  "I was ready to kill myself after just one day in that place.  I'm just not cut out for retail."

"Okay then, let's focus on what you are cut out for."  Again, he paused and thought for a minute.  "Well, you're a hell of a fighter.  Maybe you could make some money off that."

"How?  Like become a professional wrestler or something?"  She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Spike laughed.  "Yeah, you've got the perfect stage name and everything.  Buffy "The Slayer" Summers!  That's not what I meant, though.  Maybe you could teach self-defense courses or something?"

Buffy's face brightened.  "Hey, that's not a bad idea!  If people saw me fight, then they'd definitely wanna take classes from me.  Plus, it would be doing a good service, helping people protect themselves."  She paused, and a frown crossed her face.  "Although, it would take quite a while to build up a business.  I need money now.  I can't wait around until I get enough clients.  No, it's gonna have to be something faster."

"Well, if it's quick money you're after, then I might have an idea."  He gave her a sexy grin.  "The Fish Tank's always looking for new girls."

"What?  That sleazy strip club down by the docks?"

"Yeah.  You'd clean up.  Girl like you in a place like that, you'd be rolling in money."

Buffy swatted him in the shoulder.  "Hey!  I'm not going to be a stripper!"  Spike was still leering at her, and it made her crazy.  She raised her eyebrows at him suspiciously.  "How do you even know about that place anyway?"

Spike looked away and cleared his throat nervously.  "Um, you know, I hear things…"

"Uh huh."  She smiled at him teasingly.  "So, it's not like  you've ever been there, or anything?"

"Um, no."  He was still avoiding her eyes.  "Nope, can't say that I have.  Not my kind of place, to tell the truth."  He returned his eyes to hers and gave her another sexy grin.  "But if you were workin' there, I might make an exception."

"Pervert!"  Buffy playfully swatted him again.  Her mood had definitely improved, and she had Spike to thank for it.  "Sorry, Blondie, but that fantasy's just gonna have to go unfulfilled.  No way am I parading around naked in front of a bunch of disgusting drunks!"

Spike chuckled.  "Well, it was worth a shot."

Buffy gave him another smile.  "Back to the drawing board."

They sat in a companionable silence for a while.  Spike was really enjoying just being with her, without all the fighting and arguing.  "Hey," he'd suddenly had a thought.  "What about Red?  Can't she pay for room and board or something?"

Buffy's face darkened, and she turned to him with troubled eyes.  "Willow went to stay at her mom and dad's.  I don't know if she's coming back."

**A/N**:  Sorry for the cliffhanger.  I know how much they suck, but I had to stop writing and I wanted to get this posted before you guys forgot about me!  I promise to finish the kitchen scene in the next day or so.  Thanks for reading!