Disclaimer: I don't own the basic premise of the plot, it is loosely based on the movie 'Uptown Girls', and is a challenge at Chocolate Covered Strawberries Archive.
A/N: I know, Willow seems an unlikely candidate for a mini hellion, but remember, I haven't seen the movie, so I don't know how Dakota Fanning played it. Also, this is only the premise of the movie, that a rich, spoiled young woman becomes a nanny to a strange kiddo. Anything from then on is my idea.
Cordelia slipped off her sunglasses as she stepped into the hall. A soft wheat coloured carpet covered the floor, and the walls were papered in cream and gold. Cordelia raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow. Even as a child playing with Yves St Laurent make-up, she'd scribbled on the walls. This was hardly a kid-friendly environment.
Great taste though, she thought to herself, admiring the soft tones. She allowed a hint of a smile to curve her lips. Perhaps they wouldn't be the style-less freaks and need quite so much instruction in the art of what looked good.
"Hello?" she called into the empty hallway, checking her reflection in the big copper mirror hanging on the wall above a small polished table.
"Hello?" Cordelia blinked at the other speaker, unable to formulate thought for a few moments. Hello, salty goodness! He had cheekbones like knives, piercingly bright blue eyes, and a long, rangy body which she could check out without hardship, clad as he was in faded, clinging jeans and a tee-shirt.
"Are you the nanny?" he asked, a little worried frown creasing his brow, and her heart sank. She was so not doing the cliché chasing him round the kitchen table boss-help thing. Why were all the good ones off limits?
She nodded, pasting on a brilliant smile as she offered him her hand. "I'm Cordelia Chase," she answered, giving him as always her mother's name. 'Giles' was all too well-known, associated as it was with her dad. "I read the position in the newspaper."
He jerked his head back inside the room he'd come from. "Come in, love."
She followed him obediently into a well-lit kitchen. The man snapped on a kettle, and turned back to look at her. "Right. Introductions. I'm Spike Wyndham-Pryce, and you passed the nibblet on her way out. She's Willow." Cordelia glanced up at a black and white photo on the wall. A laughing woman with pale hair held a toddler on her lap, playing with her hands.
"Yeah. That's Willow's mum," Spike turned back to the kettle, a husky note creeping into his voice. "She died two years ago."
"I would say sorry," Cordelia offered, "But I didn't know her." She gave Spike another bright smile. He looked at her askance, his eyebrows drawing together in a strange look, then shook his head and went back to the kettle.
"Tea or coffee?" he asked, picking up a packet of teabags. Cordelia screwed up her nose, catching sight of the instant coffee jar. Her coffee was imported, thank you very much.
"I'm fine," she answered hastily. "It's a nice place, Mr Wyndham Pryce." She looked around the kitchen once more, admiring it. A similar taste carried on into the room, little touches of elegance dotted here and there.
"My wife decorated it," he answered, sipping his tea as he sat down at the kitchen table. Cordelia slid into a seat opposite him. "Got as far as the second floor." He cleared his throat, and picked up a notepad sitting on the table.
"Right. Have you done this nanny-ing thing before?" he asked, glancing up at her. Cordelia decided to go for broke.
"Oh yeah," she answered breezily, tossing her hair behind her shoulders, and shooting him a flirtatious look. "I'm good with children. My friend just had this cute little baby and-"she looked around quickly. Her friend Kendall had actually just had a cute little baby, until it had spit up on her brand new raw silk shirt from Italy. She had so not been happy. If there were babies here, she was not doing this.
"Oh yeah?" he cocked an eyebrow, challenging her story, leaning back in his chair lazily. Cordelia sighed.
"Okay, I've not been big with children. But I like them," she added, hopefully."I just haven't...been around them.. all that much."
"Excellent." Cordelia looked up in shock, staring at him as he scribbled busily on the pad. Excuse me?
"Willow's eight, nearly nine, forget when," Spike paused to think, "Sodding hell. Don't remember. It's in the calendar. She goes to Sunnydale Preparatory School, starts at eight thirty, finishes at three thirty. On Mondays and Thursdays she has a violin lesson after school, Tuesdays, ballet, Wednesdays, chess, Fridays are science club, and Saturday mornings she has a riding lesson. Salary is," he named a figure that made Cordelia whistle appreciatively under her breath. It might not keep a girl long in Manolos, but it definitely went someway towards a pair every couple of months.
"So." He met her eyes once more, and his lips twisted into a half-smile. "Do you want the job?"
"Willow, love," Spike took the little girl's hand, and led her towards Cordelia. "This is your new nanny, Cordelia." Cordelia bestowed a warm smile on Willow. Willow cocked one eyebrow in a similar expression to her father's, and folded her arms across her chest, sizing Cordelia up critically.
Cordelia, Queen C of LA's sparkling social scene was so not taking this, especially from a nine year old. She looked down her nose snootily at the kid, and lifted her chin, letting her eyes flicker over... Willow, wasn't it?
The child had long reddish hair, braided into two pigtails down her back. Her skin was milky pale, but dotted with tiny freckles scattered across her cheeks. Her soft green eyes were concentrated on Cordelia, the tip of her tiny pink tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she thought it over. She was adorable, particularly with a soft pink to bring out the colour in her cheeks, or maybe a nice yellow, but, Cordelia thought grimly, the cute ones were the hardest. She'd been the prettiest kid in her class, after all and she'd made the babysitters pay.
"I don't forsee this having viable prospects, Daddy," Willow finally addressed her father, casting a final glance over Cordelia. "Does she have qualifications with a registered service?" Okay, make that adorable, with the vocabulary of a high scoring SAT student.
"I've got homework," Willow informed her father. "I'll be in my room."
"So," Spike grinned at Cordelia. "That's Willow. When do you want to start?"
A/N: Next chapter, Willow at school, the hotness of Cordelia's new boss, and a meeting in the park.
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