Chapter 13: Wrongful Termination
Buffy sighed peacefully, leaning back into Spike's chest. They sat together silently, content to watch the fire crackle harmlessly in the fireplace.
She was comfortable here. In Spike's home. When she'd asked Spike how he could afford such a nice apartment, considering he'd refused anything his father had offered him, even his trust fund, he'd simply said that he'd saved up quite a bit of money and she shouldn't worry.
But there were more pressing matters than Spike's source of income. For both of them.
"What are you going to do at work tomorrow?" he asked her softly. She shrugged against him.
"I don't know. I can't not go." She closed her warm green eyes. "Let's not talk about it now."
"We have to talk about it sometime, love."
"I know. Just not now."
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`
Buffy took a deep, steadying breath as she gathered the courage to push open the doors to H.G. Summers and Associates.
Her silky blonde hair had been pulled back into a stern-looking bun at the nape of her neck. Her skirt and blazer were a dark. Forest green that brought out her eyes and her feet were decked out in matching heels. The ensemble was one she'd picked up from home earlier that morning.
She stuck a hand out in front of her and pushed open the door to the firm.
Plastering her best imitation of Willow's 'resolve face' on her features, Buffy quickly covered the distance between the entrance and her private office. Almost as an afterthought, she stuck her head back out and said, "Lucy, get my mother on the phone, please," to the secretary, who then nodded.
As she sat down behind her desk, she pushed the button next to the blinking light on her phone.
"Your mother is on Line Two, Ms. Summers," said the secretary. Buffy depressed another button and picked up the receiver.
"Hi, Mom."
"How are you doing, honey?"
"Fine, Mom. Sorry I didn't get to call you last night."
"It's alright. I just wanted to help you out."
"How's that?"
"By giving you some information you may find useful."
"Like?"
"Have you ever met Jenny Giles?" Joyce asked abruptly. Buffy frowned on the other end of the line.
"Spike's mom? I don't think so. I might have seen her in the paper once or twice. Why?"
"Jenny and I have been best friends since we met at a party nearly thirty years ago."
"What? How? Does Dad know?" Buffy couldn't believe this.
"No, he doesn't. I've been lucky in that respect. You and William used to play together while Jenny and I had tea." She really didn't have a clue what to say to that. "Would you like to know what we did during our secret meetings?"
"Sure, why not?"
"We were trying to find out why Rupert and your father hate each other so much." Buffy felt her heart rate quicken.
"And?"
"We got as far as we could with our limited resources. After all, neither of us are, say, lawyers." Joyce out an emphasis on the last word, ensuring Buffy caught her meaning.
Movement near Buffy's office door caught her eye. The angry form of Hank Summers made her jump slightly.
"I'll call you back," she told her mother, not waiting for an answer before placing the receiver back in the cradle. Then, she did her best to look expressionless. "Can I help you?" she asked coolly.
"What are you doing here, Elizabeth?" he questioned. She was taken aback. He'd never called her anything but Buffy.
"Working. You?" He ignored her inquiry.
"I assumed you were intelligent enough to realize that you no longer have a place here at H.G. Summers and Associates." Her green eyes widened.
"What are you saying?"
"You're fired."
"On what grounds?"
"You've become a liability to the firm. I don't think I need to explain myself any further. I expect you to have your things packed and removed within the hour."
He didn't wait for a reply. Just turned and strode back to his office.
Buffy forced her jaw closed, unaware that it had been open, and shook her head roughly. The nerve of that bastard!
Swearing under her breath, she pulled a cardboard file box out of a closet and proceeded to toss her personal affects inside it. Finished, she looked around. Then, just for good measure, she spitefully grabbed the electric pencil sharpener and stapler and placed them in the box with her things.
On the way out, a coworker, or ex-coworker, she corrected mentally, stopped her just before she reached the door.
Lindsey McDonald was a good-looking guy. His dark hair was longish, but expensively styled. He smiled at her.
"Hello, Buffy. Where are you going?" She rolled her eyes.
"Got fired." He frowned.
"Oh. Bummer." He then shrugged. "Wanna get dinner sometime?" Buffy took great pleasure in answering.
"Sorry, Lindsey. I'm seeing someone."
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`
When Spike opened the door to let her in, it took him all of two seconds to figure out what happened.
"The bastard fired me. I can't believe it. He actually fired me," she ranted, letting her box slip to the floor just inside the door. "Fucking unbelievable. Liability my ass."
"I'm sorry, love," he said sympathetically. She took a deep, calming breath.
"But there's an upside," she said, smiling.
"There is?"
"Yep. My mom is going to help us figure out why our dads hate each other. Your mom's in on it, too." Spike frowned.
"My mum? What's this, now?"
"They have a secret club or something."
"My mum's in a cult?" His blue eyes glistened with a teasing confusion.
"No, you freak. Our mom's are friends. They will help us discovering what happened between Rupert Giles and Hank Summers," she said slowly.
"Then your dad can't be a prat any more," he said.
"And it won't be bad for us to . . ." She trailed off, a blush tingeing her cheeks.
"Shag like horny little bunnies?" he finished, wiggling his eyebrows comically. She giggled at him as he wrapped his muscled arms suggestively around her waist. She pushed them away and he pouted.
"Not now. I have to write a report." She moved to the box and pulled out her laptop.
"A report? Why?" She looked at him, her eyes flickering with something unidentifiable.
"I'm filing a wrongful termination suit."
Buffy sighed peacefully, leaning back into Spike's chest. They sat together silently, content to watch the fire crackle harmlessly in the fireplace.
She was comfortable here. In Spike's home. When she'd asked Spike how he could afford such a nice apartment, considering he'd refused anything his father had offered him, even his trust fund, he'd simply said that he'd saved up quite a bit of money and she shouldn't worry.
But there were more pressing matters than Spike's source of income. For both of them.
"What are you going to do at work tomorrow?" he asked her softly. She shrugged against him.
"I don't know. I can't not go." She closed her warm green eyes. "Let's not talk about it now."
"We have to talk about it sometime, love."
"I know. Just not now."
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`
Buffy took a deep, steadying breath as she gathered the courage to push open the doors to H.G. Summers and Associates.
Her silky blonde hair had been pulled back into a stern-looking bun at the nape of her neck. Her skirt and blazer were a dark. Forest green that brought out her eyes and her feet were decked out in matching heels. The ensemble was one she'd picked up from home earlier that morning.
She stuck a hand out in front of her and pushed open the door to the firm.
Plastering her best imitation of Willow's 'resolve face' on her features, Buffy quickly covered the distance between the entrance and her private office. Almost as an afterthought, she stuck her head back out and said, "Lucy, get my mother on the phone, please," to the secretary, who then nodded.
As she sat down behind her desk, she pushed the button next to the blinking light on her phone.
"Your mother is on Line Two, Ms. Summers," said the secretary. Buffy depressed another button and picked up the receiver.
"Hi, Mom."
"How are you doing, honey?"
"Fine, Mom. Sorry I didn't get to call you last night."
"It's alright. I just wanted to help you out."
"How's that?"
"By giving you some information you may find useful."
"Like?"
"Have you ever met Jenny Giles?" Joyce asked abruptly. Buffy frowned on the other end of the line.
"Spike's mom? I don't think so. I might have seen her in the paper once or twice. Why?"
"Jenny and I have been best friends since we met at a party nearly thirty years ago."
"What? How? Does Dad know?" Buffy couldn't believe this.
"No, he doesn't. I've been lucky in that respect. You and William used to play together while Jenny and I had tea." She really didn't have a clue what to say to that. "Would you like to know what we did during our secret meetings?"
"Sure, why not?"
"We were trying to find out why Rupert and your father hate each other so much." Buffy felt her heart rate quicken.
"And?"
"We got as far as we could with our limited resources. After all, neither of us are, say, lawyers." Joyce out an emphasis on the last word, ensuring Buffy caught her meaning.
Movement near Buffy's office door caught her eye. The angry form of Hank Summers made her jump slightly.
"I'll call you back," she told her mother, not waiting for an answer before placing the receiver back in the cradle. Then, she did her best to look expressionless. "Can I help you?" she asked coolly.
"What are you doing here, Elizabeth?" he questioned. She was taken aback. He'd never called her anything but Buffy.
"Working. You?" He ignored her inquiry.
"I assumed you were intelligent enough to realize that you no longer have a place here at H.G. Summers and Associates." Her green eyes widened.
"What are you saying?"
"You're fired."
"On what grounds?"
"You've become a liability to the firm. I don't think I need to explain myself any further. I expect you to have your things packed and removed within the hour."
He didn't wait for a reply. Just turned and strode back to his office.
Buffy forced her jaw closed, unaware that it had been open, and shook her head roughly. The nerve of that bastard!
Swearing under her breath, she pulled a cardboard file box out of a closet and proceeded to toss her personal affects inside it. Finished, she looked around. Then, just for good measure, she spitefully grabbed the electric pencil sharpener and stapler and placed them in the box with her things.
On the way out, a coworker, or ex-coworker, she corrected mentally, stopped her just before she reached the door.
Lindsey McDonald was a good-looking guy. His dark hair was longish, but expensively styled. He smiled at her.
"Hello, Buffy. Where are you going?" She rolled her eyes.
"Got fired." He frowned.
"Oh. Bummer." He then shrugged. "Wanna get dinner sometime?" Buffy took great pleasure in answering.
"Sorry, Lindsey. I'm seeing someone."
`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`
When Spike opened the door to let her in, it took him all of two seconds to figure out what happened.
"The bastard fired me. I can't believe it. He actually fired me," she ranted, letting her box slip to the floor just inside the door. "Fucking unbelievable. Liability my ass."
"I'm sorry, love," he said sympathetically. She took a deep, calming breath.
"But there's an upside," she said, smiling.
"There is?"
"Yep. My mom is going to help us figure out why our dads hate each other. Your mom's in on it, too." Spike frowned.
"My mum? What's this, now?"
"They have a secret club or something."
"My mum's in a cult?" His blue eyes glistened with a teasing confusion.
"No, you freak. Our mom's are friends. They will help us discovering what happened between Rupert Giles and Hank Summers," she said slowly.
"Then your dad can't be a prat any more," he said.
"And it won't be bad for us to . . ." She trailed off, a blush tingeing her cheeks.
"Shag like horny little bunnies?" he finished, wiggling his eyebrows comically. She giggled at him as he wrapped his muscled arms suggestively around her waist. She pushed them away and he pouted.
"Not now. I have to write a report." She moved to the box and pulled out her laptop.
"A report? Why?" She looked at him, her eyes flickering with something unidentifiable.
"I'm filing a wrongful termination suit."