Pretty Dollies: Our Girl
Part 3
Disclaimer: Nobody but the dolly belong to me.
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"Spike!" Buffy jogged out of the Magic Box. The sun had set and they were done questioning Spike about Guindeviere. He paused and turned, Guindeviere at his side, as always.
"Where are you going?"
"Home, pet."
"You can't be thinking of taking Guindeviere back to that dusty old crypt," Buffy wrinkled her nose at him.
"Well sorry it doesn't live up to the Summers' child care standards, but I don't exactly have a summer home in sunny Miami Beach I can take her to," he snapped sarcastically.
"She'll just have to stay with me until you can bring the crypt up to snuff," she sniffed jokingly. Spike smiled sadly at her.
"Thanks for the gesture…really. But I'm not letting her out of my sight."
"Then," Buffy took a deep breath. She had been considering this the whole day, and the moment was at hand, "I'll just have to play hostess for both of you." Spike stared at her.
"Buffy…are you feeling alright?"
"I'm fine."
"Buffy…I couldn't impose…"
"It's not imposing if I invite you. Do you need an invitation with gold, embossed letters? You and Guindeviere are going to come stay with Dawn and me." Spike continued gaping. Had Buffy been taken over by aliens when he wasn't looking? Inviting him…not only to enter her house, but to live in it.
"We'd love to…he's just worried he's going to do something he'll be ashamed of later, but don't worry. I'll keep an eye on him," Guindeviere told her in a confidential stage whisper. Buffy laughed slightly. Spike blushed and his grip on Guindeviere's hand tightened noticeably.
"Hey…" she whined, squirming around like a six year old girl. Not like an 80 year old half-vampire girl. Or, rather, it was how an 80 year old half-vampire girl would squirm around. Buffy blinked the confusing thoughts out of her mind.
"Come on Guindeviere," she paused and wrinkled her nose, "Spike, don't you have a nickname for her? It takes a really long time to say 'Guindeviere' every time you want to talk to her."
"Well, I, I used to…I sometimes called her Gwinnie," he shuffled his feet, embarrassed.
"I think that's adorable. Come on Gwinnie, Spike. Let's go home."
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"Have I mentioned how bad an idea this is?" Xander asked, rummaging around in his toolbox for the proper wrench. Buffy had commissioned him to remodel her basement to make it habitable for Spike and Gwinnie, since the vampire refused to allow her out of his field of protection.
"Only twice. Or was it three times? Or several thousand?" Buffy said with mock pensiveness. She held two paint samplers up to the wall, "What do you think Tara? 'Mulberry wine' or 'Grape pleasure'?"
"T-the mulberry…definitely," Tara smiled for a moment before returning to draping thick curtains over the small windows.
"Jesus, Slayer!" Spike exclaimed. He had been assigned to cleaning out all the junk, "Don't you throw anything away?" He unearthed an old torn bra and held it up, "Ooh…guess not."
"Give me that!" Buffy screeched, snatching it out of his hands, a fiery hot blush scorching her cheeks. It wasn't bad enough a guy was holding her underwear. It had to be Spike…the most dirty-minded vampire she knew. Plus he was in love with her, which was never good, "It's not what you're thinking…I got attacked by a vampire."
"In your knickers? Now that I would have liked to see," he smirked suggestively and Buffy wailed 'pervert!' and buried her face in her hands to hide an even stronger wave of blushing.
"What's going on?" Willow asked, carrying a box full of paint brushes and tarp.
"Oh nothing…Buffy was just enlightening us as to some of her more erotic Slays," Spike licked his lips and snickered. Buffy hit him, hard, with an old catalog entitled, 'Medieval Weaponry Today'. "Easy on the goods Slayer!"
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"Oh," Dawn sighed, "That's just gorgeous." Gwinnie had just emerged from Buffy's room, changed into a new dress. This one was a delicious looking minty green color, with silver lacing and matching hair ribbons wrapped around the long strip of hair that hung in front of her ear. A suitcase full of dresses had mysteriously arrived at the Summers house, and they all seemed to belong to Guindeviere. Dawn found herself wishing she grew up a hundred years ago or so, just so she could wear dresses like that. Buffy had explained the whole story to her, and she really could see why Drusilla, crazy though she may be, had called Gwinnie her prettiest dolly. She looked like a life-size doll, all dressed up
and pale.
"I'm sure Daddy could track some down for you, if you like my gowns so much. He's very good at finding things…though I suppose I'm even better, since I found him," Gwinnie said, surveying herself delicately in the full-length mirror. Dawn sighed inwardly. She had to keep reminding herself. Especially at the times when the half-vampire talked like this, at the same level as everyone around her. Guindeviere was not a doll; she was not even a child. She was around 80, with enhanced combat skills. And she had grown up with Drusilla for a mother.
"Oh no, they would never look as good on me as they do on you," Dawn tried to smile like nothing was wrong. Gwinnie seemed to sense the other girl's discomfort and immediately threw herself into her arms.
"I love you big sister!" She peppered Dawn's face with a flurry of kisses, soft and quick like butterflies brushing her cheeks. Drawing away with a sunny smile she squeezed Dawn's arm for a second then giggled and barreled out of the room, "I'm gonna show Daddy my dressie!" Dawn blinked and stared after her. What had just happened? She had just…become a little kid, Dawn thought, frowning. What's going on?
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"So, where's all this wood you need hefted?" Buffy asked, climbing into Xander's construction truck. He entered the driver's side and slammed the door, then rested his hands on the steering wheel, looking upset.
"It's in the lumber yard but…Buffy, I need to talk to you."
"Okay. What's up Xand-man?" She asked, trying to make her voice light, but she could see something was wrong.
"Buffy, I know I've said it before, and you think it's all a joke but…I really don't think it's a good idea to let Spike live in your house. Hell, I don't think it's a good idea to let Spike in your house, but that's not what we're talking about."
"I know it's weird, Xand…but I've thought this through. Besides, it's not like he can hurt me."
"We're not really clear on the Initiative's idea of 'hurting', Buffy!" He said, slamming his fist on the dashboard. She stared at him and he brought a hand to his temple, "I'm sorry, Buff. But I'm worried. And we don't know how far the 'not hurting people' thing will go. Maybe he can't hit you or Dawn. That's good. But that doesn't mean you can shrug him off as harmless. Does it keep him from drugging you? From threatening you? Suppose he starts coming onto Dawn? And he'll stop, but only if he gets you instead? Or even nonviolent stuff! A lot of things can happen when you live in the same house. How are you going to keep him from spying on you when you're changing? Or walking in when you're showering? And what if he decides he wants to send his little evil sprite out to-"
"Xander! I understand your doubts…and believe me when I say I've got them too. But even if I can't trust Spike…I don't think he'd ever hurt me. Or Dawn. And if the 'evil sprite' is who I think you're thinking of, I don't think she'd harm us either… and I can take both of them if I want to anyway. But that's really not important Xander, because I believe in both of them. They'd never hurt me."
Xander mumbled something under his breath and turned the key in the ignition. Buffy watched him closely.
"What did you say, Xander?"
"I said you didn't think Angel would ever hurt you either…and look where that got us."
"Stop the car!" She stared at him with insinuation, "So that's what this is all about, isn't it? You can't handle my trusting another vampire. I thought you were over the jealous schoolboy phase, Xander."
"I'm not jealous! I'm worried, apprehensive, hey, let's throw fretful in there to make it a good mix, but I am not jealous! I don't know where you get off saying that to me!"
"Fine. Drive. We'll go get that lumber, and pretend this never happened, okay?" Buffy asked, tilting her head in the Buffy-way that showed everyone who knew her she was severely pissed. Xander glared at her for another minute then revved up the engine.
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"A ribbon and a bow, that makes a pretty melody, hmm?" Drusilla hummed to herself as she arranged a divine new gown on Guindeviere's slender body. Her cheeks were strongly rouged and she stood perfectly still. She never blinked, and if not for the nearly unnoticeable rise and fall of her chest beneath the mounds of ruffles, an observer might believe she really was a doll. Because that made Mummy happy.
Sometimes Mummy wanted her to fight things, and sometimes she wanted her to sing like the plums in the floral arrangement did. But a lot of the time, Mummy just wanted her to stand completely still and become a dolly. Guindeviere may have been naïve to the modern world, she may have been a child, but she was not stupid. She knew there was something wrong with Mummy, something that let her know and see things other mummies could not.
She remembered once, a long time ago…when Daddy still was there, before the Dark…lightning had struck outside, and Guindeviere had turned to look before Mummy had finished dressing her. It was horrible. Mummy had screamed so loudly, Guindeviere had thought more lighting had hit her, and then Mummy fell to the floor and began to sob and writhe and wail. Daddy had rushed over and picked Mummy up and whispered to her and sang her a little song. If Guindeviere had known how to tell time, she would have seen that it took nearly four hours for Mummy to stop screeching. And she knew that it was her fault. That Mummy was in horrible, horrible pain, all because of her. She never moved when Mummy was playing ever again.
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That's all for this one…READER POLL: I'm wondering what type of audience my writing draws so…how old are you guys? R+R+R+R!! J