(A/N: Thanks to Sheila for betaing it for me. Luv ya, sweetie! Mwahhh =D )

Rating: R

Disclaimer: If you are a spuffy or an obsessed BtVS fan like me, you should have known whom the characters belong to. What? You don't know? Shame on you! LOL Why, they belong to me of course. 'Cept the me here is supposed to be in capital letters as in ME. They also belong to the I-love-to-hate-you-but-I-can't-because-you-have-introduced-Spike-to-me Joss Whedon. There I've said it. Happy now, Joss?!?  

Summary: William 'Spike' Giles is a workaholic boss. He spends 24 hours a day in his office, working non-stop. But there is one thing every employee of his fear from him - his uncontrollable anger. Whenever he doesn't see something that fit in his eyes, he will fix it by firing his employees no matter how long and dedicated they have been in the company. Hence, no one wants to mess with him when he's at the peak of his anger. Except his father, Rupert Giles. And nobody can tame him, except his stepmother, Drusilla. After firing a good amount of the oldest employees in the Giles Company, his father finally put a rest on it by giving him an ultimatum. Given a month, Spike needs to learn how to control his anger or he won't be given the thing he has every right and worked hard for - his inheritance.

Inspired very vaguely by the movie, 'Anger Management'.


Prologue:

Bang. Slam.

Everyone froze at their activity. All eyes snapped to the double doors, hearts racing, anticipating a certain person who was about to burst inside the office any second.

Bam.

There he was. Palms appearing to push the door harshly as the peroxide head came into view. Everyone stood immediately, fidgeting on their feet and eyeing him as he stomped his boots purposely to other double doors that led to his private office. Anyone who'd never met him would have laughed at his employees' reaction, all holding their breaths, waiting for him to get inside his bureau.

The man, clad in black ignored his employees' nervous stares as they followed his every step. He threw one or two glances at random, and those who met his annoyed gaze immediately looked down on their feet, avoiding his eyes right away. He ran a hand through his curly hair in frustration as he reached his secretary's desk.

"Get Ethan Rayne for me." He ordered the brunette behind the desk with a pointing finger.

"I-Immediately, sir." The skinny girl in gray suit answered him, fumbling through her address book at once. He strode inside the large office, leaving all of his employees with sighs of relief. But soon, they all glanced at one another, gasping as they recognized the name their boss mentioned just seconds ago.

Uh-oh…First victim for today.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Ethan Rayne took a deep breath; readying himself for whatever unavoidable episode he was about to face. He was always good at facing his boss, giving him a concern look and promises usually got him out of any troubles he was in. Well, at least it worked for his older boss. But it's different with his younger one. This young man always had eyes on him. In fact, he had eyes on every employee of his, making them learn not to make a fool out of him.

The brunette fifty-year old man stood in front of the double mahogany doors, took another long breath before turning his head to the secretary. "What were his words exactly, Fred?"

The young woman in question adjusted her glasses before answering, "Well, h-he said, 'Get Ethan Rayne for me.' That's all."

He sighed, slumping his shoulders in defeat. Straightening his form again, he knocked firmly on the door and a clear British voice invited him to come inside. Pulling his concern and serious look, he let himself in, calming a little as a nonchalant face greeted him. "Good Morning Mr. Giles. You needed to see me?"

The young man behind the desk leaned back against the leather chair, his piercing blue eyes were calm but Ethan could feel the danger and authority behind them. He opened his mouth and spoke in an even tone. "You're fired."


*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

"Evenin', Maria." The bleached twenty-five year old man greeted with a nod as he peeled his duster off and handed to the old lady.

"Good evening, Master William. Master Giles would like to see you as soon as possible."

Spike immediately groaned and rolled his eyes. Mumbling a thank you, he strode towards his father's office fully aware of what the older Giles wanted to discuss with him…or yelled at him rather.

Without bothering to knock, he turned the knob and entered the room. His eyes immediately came across the agitated form of his father pacing around in front of his large desk that instantly stopped the moment he saw him.

"What in the bloody hell were you thinking, William?" His fists clenched into a ball, knuckles turning white as he glared sharply at his son. Spike only rolled his eyes. Ignoring his father's question, he walked towards the maroon leather couch and kissed his stepmother's cheek in greeting.

"Evening, mother." He smiled at the raven-haired woman.

The lady in a white long dress caressed her stepson's cheek lovingly as she flashed him a genuine yet sympathetic smile for the upcoming argument between him and her husband.

Rupert Giles lost his patience. "Bloody hell, William! Answer my question!" He demanded, slamming his fist onto the table.

"Rupert, it's not necessary to yell at your son like that." His second wife warned him with a glint of anger in her eyes.

"Yes, there is, Drusilla dear. He has fired yet another employee of mine AND this time he fired Ethan Rayne, one of my best accountants!" He gritted his teeth and shot Spike a deadly glare.

"Oh, s'that so, father?" Spike straightened and dared the older Giles to make eye contact.

"What do you mean is that so? Ethan called me this afternoon and-"

"What I meant was…is that, Ethan is one of your best accountants?" The younger man interjected. "I must admit he is really good that you let him fool you with his serious look and bright promises."

"Are you saying that I'm-"

"No, I'm not calling you anything. I'm just telling you how cunning he is, but NO, you won't listen to me, will ya?" Spike interrupted once again, throwing his arms in exasperation.

"Well, how will I listen to you if all you do is firing every employee of mine everyday without any good reason?"

"Because they are useless and slow! Our company is one of the biggest in this country, father, and we do not need people that cannot be reliable. Hell, I work more hours and harder than them but you never appreciate it!" He clenched his jaw; chiselled cheekbones drew out as he tried to contain his anger.

Giles took his glasses off and cleaned them with a handkerchief. There was silence for a moment, fleetingly disrupted by the piercing noise of his glasses being rubbed hard with a piece of fabric. Placing his glasses back, the older man looked up to his son and spoke, "You cannot do this anymore, William."

"Well, if you'd have chosen good and hardworking employees, maybe I won't need to-"

"No. You cannot work in my company any longer." He cut him off. Spike crunched his brows in incredulity, shaking his head at his father's statement.
"I worked hard for it, father." He gritted his teeth, his eyes flashing with anger. "You made me run the company and I have all the rights to earn it!"

"Not until I die, my son. Yes, you are the CEO of Giles' enterprise right now, but you can only inherit the company AFTER I pass away."

Spike clenched and unclenched his fists, his teeth gritted painfully; he looked around the entire room and finally drove his fist into the wall next to the door. "Dammit, father! You cannot do this to me. What have I done to make you take away the one thing I have purpose in life for?" He snapped his head to look at his father again, ignoring the pain in his knuckles. Drusilla instantaneously ran to him and took his bloodied fist in her hand.

"William…" She gasped at his bleeding knuckles, but Spike ignored her.

"Your anger, that's what! YOU cannot control your anger and you let it rule every decision for every little problem you have. It's not good for the company, William. No matter how hard you work, it's still not good enough." Giles' blue eyes stared into the same colored orbs of his son's.

Spike squeezed his eyes tightly before meeting his father's eyes again. He could not risk losing the only thing he had put his effort and energy for. No, he wouldn't allow that to happen. The company was rightfully his and he would do anything to forbid his father to take it away from him.

"Fine. What do you want me to do to get it back?" Before Giles could answer his question, Drusilla interceded, putting a soothing hand on Spike's shoulder.

"I think it's time for another session of therapy, don't you think so, dear?" Spike looked down to his smiling stepmother.

He sighed in surrender at the stern look Drusilla gave him and conceded, "Right. Another session for William Giles coming up."