Joyce Summers came home around six o'clock, exhausted. She'd had to stay an
extra hour working inventory at the museum. It wasn't among her favorite
activities, but if she wanted to buy a space for a gallery soon, she'd have
to clock some additional hours to get a raise. She smiled when she spied
Buffy asleep on the couch, her schoolbook resting open on her chest.
Putting down her purse, she crept over to her daughter, and gingerly
removed the book and placed it on the side table. Buffy stirred, and opened
one eye, peering at her mother.
"Hey sleepy girl," Joyce crooned.
"Hey mom, how was your day?" Buffy asked groggily.
"It was tiresome, but it'll be worth it," Joyce sighed. "Come on, honey, you shouldn't be napping now, you'll never get to sleep tonight. How was school today?" Joyce took hold of her daughter's hand, and pulled her to a sitting position. Buffy's mind was still fuzzy from napping so early in the evening, and she had a niggling feeling that she had something important to tell her mother, but she couldn't think of what it was. Buffy opened her mouth, but Joyce interrupted her. "Oh, hold that thought, honey, I've got to run to the 'loo' as they say," she said with a grin, and headed out of the room. Buffy stood, reeling a little from a head rush, and heard her mother speaking from down the hall. "What are you in the mood for dinner tonight? I was thinking we might go out."
"I dunno, let me think," she replied and stretched. She started to walk to the kitchen, when a loud knock at the door stopped her. "There's someone at the door, mom! I'll get it!" she yelled, and she sleepily made her way to the door. What she saw when she opened it caused her to wake up instantly.
Spike stood in the hallway. Both of his eyes were swollen and bruised, and a cut on his cheek was oozing blood. His lip was also cut, and his clothes were disheveled. Buffy gaped at him a moment before she spoke.
"Spike, oh my God, what happened to you?" she whispered.
"Had an accident. Have you seen Rupert?" he replied, avoiding her eyes.
Buffy frowned at his evasiveness. "No, I knocked at his door earlier, but he didn't answer. Why? Is he still not there? Do you need some help?"
A look of panic flashed across his features. "No, I'm fine, just thought I'd try over here. I'll just go then," he turned to go, but Buffy impulsively grabbed his arm and stopped him.
"Spike, what really happened?" she asked, knowing she wouldn't get an answer.
He spun around angrily, and took her by the shoulders, shaking her aggressively. Buffy gasped in shock at the cold fury in his expression. Her lip began to tremble and he growled at her. "Nothing is bloody wrong, just leave it!"
Buffy winced when his hands tightened their grip painfully, and her eyes filled. Seeing her frightened tears, Spike woke out of his rage, and softened. He loosened his grip and slid his hands down her arms. "No. No. Don't bloody cry, please." Buffy stood rooted to the spot, eyeing him warily. Spike dropped his arms and said, "Look, I'm sorry to have scared you–"
"Buffy?" Joyce's voice cut him off, and he tensed. "Who's at the door?" Spike stepped closer to her and whispered,
"You never saw me. Just forget this." He turned and ran down the hall to the stair exit and disappeared. Buffy, shaken, shut the door quietly, and blinked the tears away and turned to face her mother, who had just come up behind her. She shrugged in a way she hoped was nonchalant.
"No one, just a Jehovah's Witness," she told her. Joyce looked puzzled.
"A Jehovah's Witness?" she asked, and Buffy nodded. "How'd he get in the building?" Buffy shrugged again and rapidly changed the subject.
"So, Italian tonight? Or Indian?"
Joyce was perplexed by her daughter's behavior all through dinner. She was quiet, which wasn't all that unusual, although she had become more lively and talkative of late. She wasn't depressed or moody, but she seemed to have something on her mind. Joyce questioned her briefly, but Buffy evaded her and told her about her teacher asking her to tutor some students in art, and how she had started that day. Joyce was very pleased by this news, and she secretly hoped that this would help Buffy to open up to new friendships. They still hadn't found a therapist that Buffy felt comfortable with; she was still gun-shy from her experience with Mrs. Slander. Joyce clenched her jaw at the thought of what that woman had done to her daughter. She was furious even a month after the incident, and she wanted to take some sort of action to see that the appalling counselor lost her position at the school. Joyce Summers was not a vengeful person by nature, but Mrs. Slander had no business counseling vulnerable young people. Giles was in total agreement with her, and he'd promised to help her in this endeavor.
Joyce felt so grateful that she and Buffy had such a friend in Rupert Giles. He was a truly wonderful man, and she wished that her ex-husband had those same qualities she'd needed in a husband and Buffy needed in a father. Joyce blinked, startled at the thought she'd just had. Yes, Rupert would make a good husband, she thought, and flushed. He was certainly a very attractive man, and he was someone she could easily see herself settling down with, but she had no intention of looking for a new husband or even a boyfriend just yet. She and Buffy were still getting accustomed to their new life, and Buffy was her first priority. For now, Joyce could be content with just being good friends with Rupert. 'Besides,' she mused, 'who knows what the future will bring?' She prayed silently for only good things as she gazed at her daughter lovingly.
For Buffy's part, she had of course been preoccupied with Spike's predicament. She felt fairly certain that his dad had beat him up, but she didn't know what, if anything she should do about it. He had been furious that she had pried into his business, and she really couldn't blame him for that. After all, she herself was loath to talk to anyone about her troubles, resenting anyone who questioned her, and here she was sticking her nose where it didn't belong. But she couldn't just do nothing, could she? Even though she didn't want to be friends with anyone, least of all Spike, she didn't want to stand by while he was being abused. She noted her mother's concern that something was bothering her, and she thought perhaps she should tell her about the evening's events, but stopped herself, remembering how he had told her not to tell anyone about what she had seen. He probably didn't know that she'd heard his father yelling at him, so maybe he thought she was under the impression that he'd gotten into a fight with another boy.
Buffy sighed, and decided not to think about the situation for now. She distracted her mother by telling her about her tutoring in art, but Spike's plight remained in the back of her mind all through dinner and the walk home. She was tired when they got back to the apartment, but at last, she'd come to the decision to speak with Giles about Spike. She didn't want to anger Spike, after all, she had no right to interfere, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something needed to be done.
She told her mother that she was going over to Giles' apartment for a few minutes, and headed down the hallway. Buffy stood in front of his door, her fist raised to knock, when she hesitated. Biting her lip, she wavered in her resolution to talk to Giles. Maybe Spike had already seen him; maybe he was already in there, and was being taken care of, and she would only embarrass him by walking in on him. She wondered if Giles was aware of the situation, after all, he was Spike's uncle. He was probably doing something about it as she stood there debating with herself.
Then again, even though Spike had been looking for Giles, perhaps he hadn't found him yet, and had gone home to his father to get yet another beating. Buffy rubbed her temples with her fingers; her head was starting to ache from all the indecision. She took a deep breath, and just knocked. And waited. Giles didn't come to the door, and Buffy was mystified. Usually, if Giles were going to be away, he let Buffy and her mother know. He'd been at school that day. She waited a moment longer, and then walked back to her own apartment. If he was at school tomorrow, and she didn't know why he wouldn't be, she'd speak to him when she had her free period in the library. Her dilemma resolved for the time being, she let herself in the door, sat down on the couch next to her mother, and started on her homework.
"Hey sleepy girl," Joyce crooned.
"Hey mom, how was your day?" Buffy asked groggily.
"It was tiresome, but it'll be worth it," Joyce sighed. "Come on, honey, you shouldn't be napping now, you'll never get to sleep tonight. How was school today?" Joyce took hold of her daughter's hand, and pulled her to a sitting position. Buffy's mind was still fuzzy from napping so early in the evening, and she had a niggling feeling that she had something important to tell her mother, but she couldn't think of what it was. Buffy opened her mouth, but Joyce interrupted her. "Oh, hold that thought, honey, I've got to run to the 'loo' as they say," she said with a grin, and headed out of the room. Buffy stood, reeling a little from a head rush, and heard her mother speaking from down the hall. "What are you in the mood for dinner tonight? I was thinking we might go out."
"I dunno, let me think," she replied and stretched. She started to walk to the kitchen, when a loud knock at the door stopped her. "There's someone at the door, mom! I'll get it!" she yelled, and she sleepily made her way to the door. What she saw when she opened it caused her to wake up instantly.
Spike stood in the hallway. Both of his eyes were swollen and bruised, and a cut on his cheek was oozing blood. His lip was also cut, and his clothes were disheveled. Buffy gaped at him a moment before she spoke.
"Spike, oh my God, what happened to you?" she whispered.
"Had an accident. Have you seen Rupert?" he replied, avoiding her eyes.
Buffy frowned at his evasiveness. "No, I knocked at his door earlier, but he didn't answer. Why? Is he still not there? Do you need some help?"
A look of panic flashed across his features. "No, I'm fine, just thought I'd try over here. I'll just go then," he turned to go, but Buffy impulsively grabbed his arm and stopped him.
"Spike, what really happened?" she asked, knowing she wouldn't get an answer.
He spun around angrily, and took her by the shoulders, shaking her aggressively. Buffy gasped in shock at the cold fury in his expression. Her lip began to tremble and he growled at her. "Nothing is bloody wrong, just leave it!"
Buffy winced when his hands tightened their grip painfully, and her eyes filled. Seeing her frightened tears, Spike woke out of his rage, and softened. He loosened his grip and slid his hands down her arms. "No. No. Don't bloody cry, please." Buffy stood rooted to the spot, eyeing him warily. Spike dropped his arms and said, "Look, I'm sorry to have scared you–"
"Buffy?" Joyce's voice cut him off, and he tensed. "Who's at the door?" Spike stepped closer to her and whispered,
"You never saw me. Just forget this." He turned and ran down the hall to the stair exit and disappeared. Buffy, shaken, shut the door quietly, and blinked the tears away and turned to face her mother, who had just come up behind her. She shrugged in a way she hoped was nonchalant.
"No one, just a Jehovah's Witness," she told her. Joyce looked puzzled.
"A Jehovah's Witness?" she asked, and Buffy nodded. "How'd he get in the building?" Buffy shrugged again and rapidly changed the subject.
"So, Italian tonight? Or Indian?"
Joyce was perplexed by her daughter's behavior all through dinner. She was quiet, which wasn't all that unusual, although she had become more lively and talkative of late. She wasn't depressed or moody, but she seemed to have something on her mind. Joyce questioned her briefly, but Buffy evaded her and told her about her teacher asking her to tutor some students in art, and how she had started that day. Joyce was very pleased by this news, and she secretly hoped that this would help Buffy to open up to new friendships. They still hadn't found a therapist that Buffy felt comfortable with; she was still gun-shy from her experience with Mrs. Slander. Joyce clenched her jaw at the thought of what that woman had done to her daughter. She was furious even a month after the incident, and she wanted to take some sort of action to see that the appalling counselor lost her position at the school. Joyce Summers was not a vengeful person by nature, but Mrs. Slander had no business counseling vulnerable young people. Giles was in total agreement with her, and he'd promised to help her in this endeavor.
Joyce felt so grateful that she and Buffy had such a friend in Rupert Giles. He was a truly wonderful man, and she wished that her ex-husband had those same qualities she'd needed in a husband and Buffy needed in a father. Joyce blinked, startled at the thought she'd just had. Yes, Rupert would make a good husband, she thought, and flushed. He was certainly a very attractive man, and he was someone she could easily see herself settling down with, but she had no intention of looking for a new husband or even a boyfriend just yet. She and Buffy were still getting accustomed to their new life, and Buffy was her first priority. For now, Joyce could be content with just being good friends with Rupert. 'Besides,' she mused, 'who knows what the future will bring?' She prayed silently for only good things as she gazed at her daughter lovingly.
For Buffy's part, she had of course been preoccupied with Spike's predicament. She felt fairly certain that his dad had beat him up, but she didn't know what, if anything she should do about it. He had been furious that she had pried into his business, and she really couldn't blame him for that. After all, she herself was loath to talk to anyone about her troubles, resenting anyone who questioned her, and here she was sticking her nose where it didn't belong. But she couldn't just do nothing, could she? Even though she didn't want to be friends with anyone, least of all Spike, she didn't want to stand by while he was being abused. She noted her mother's concern that something was bothering her, and she thought perhaps she should tell her about the evening's events, but stopped herself, remembering how he had told her not to tell anyone about what she had seen. He probably didn't know that she'd heard his father yelling at him, so maybe he thought she was under the impression that he'd gotten into a fight with another boy.
Buffy sighed, and decided not to think about the situation for now. She distracted her mother by telling her about her tutoring in art, but Spike's plight remained in the back of her mind all through dinner and the walk home. She was tired when they got back to the apartment, but at last, she'd come to the decision to speak with Giles about Spike. She didn't want to anger Spike, after all, she had no right to interfere, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something needed to be done.
She told her mother that she was going over to Giles' apartment for a few minutes, and headed down the hallway. Buffy stood in front of his door, her fist raised to knock, when she hesitated. Biting her lip, she wavered in her resolution to talk to Giles. Maybe Spike had already seen him; maybe he was already in there, and was being taken care of, and she would only embarrass him by walking in on him. She wondered if Giles was aware of the situation, after all, he was Spike's uncle. He was probably doing something about it as she stood there debating with herself.
Then again, even though Spike had been looking for Giles, perhaps he hadn't found him yet, and had gone home to his father to get yet another beating. Buffy rubbed her temples with her fingers; her head was starting to ache from all the indecision. She took a deep breath, and just knocked. And waited. Giles didn't come to the door, and Buffy was mystified. Usually, if Giles were going to be away, he let Buffy and her mother know. He'd been at school that day. She waited a moment longer, and then walked back to her own apartment. If he was at school tomorrow, and she didn't know why he wouldn't be, she'd speak to him when she had her free period in the library. Her dilemma resolved for the time being, she let herself in the door, sat down on the couch next to her mother, and started on her homework.