Disclaimer: I will not claim to own anything of this story. Joss Whedon
created the characters, Billie Letts wrote "Where the Heart Is", which this
is based on.
Rating: This will be rated R! Sorry kiddies, but I like using inappropriate language.
Author's Notes: I'm going home for the weekend, so I decided to post the next chapter. And, one of my favorite and, in my opinion, most underused characters in the Buffyverse makes an appearance. I know I'm gonna get a lot of flack for this, or just some pointed eyebrows of curiosity, but it's my AU, so get over it. Love you, so please review.
PS: Imzadi, I think you are a little obsessed with a certain character. But, because I love you, and because you won't leave me alone until I do so, one of the future chapters will contain an appearance by a certain brown-haired hottie. It isn't this chapter, but it will happen soon in the future. Happy now? Much love. ____________________________________________________________________________
* *
*
Chapter Six- Arrangements
"Oh my god." Joyce's face, before an expectant and friendly grin, had fallen to a confused stare. "I can't believe I thought you were Marie."
"It's a mistake. No big." Buffy shrugged.
"But," Joyce continued, leaning against the doorframe, "I feel so stupid."
"Don't."
Sighing with an amused air, Joyce stepped out onto her porch. "When I saw you sitting there . . . earlier that day, I was thinking about Marie and her sister, and Marie had the most lovely blonde hair I had ever seen on a little girl, and then I saw you . . ." Again, Joyce began to chuckle, then began to squeeze her forehead with her fingers. "I'm getting too old."
After Buffy's confrontation with Mr. Angry-British-Boy, she wandered the streets of Sunnydale in a blind rage, contemplating how to perform castration without getting caught. But when she finally calmed down, she found herself in the residential areas of the town, large Craftsmen houses with unique architechtual styles.
Revello Drive was located right in the heart of the areas. She happened upon the street by chance, and her face lit up when she read the green street signs.
1630 was five houses down the street. The two-story house was exactly the kind of place she dreamed of living in. The front yard, not extremely large, was well cared for, dominated by a large tree perfect for climbing up. Small, green shrubs disguised the backyard fence, the wood turning a slight gray from weather. And there was an actual porch in the front! Buffy couldn't believe she knew someone who lived in such a perfect house.
"Well," Joyce began, done with her mental punishment, "I suppose I should learn the name of the pseudo-Marie."
"Buffy Summers."
Smiling, Joyce stepped back into the house. "Well, Buffy Summers, won't you come in."
As she stepped in, Buffy felt her eyes open to comical proportions as she took in the sights of Joyce's home. It wasn't as elaborate as the library, but it was a comfortable elegance. The hallway was dominated by a large painting of, what appeared to be, tree leaves. In fact, various paintings and portraits covered all the walls of the home that she could see.
"What brings you here today," asked Joyce as she closed the door behind Buffy.
"I-" Buffy began, but was cut short when she heard a clatter come from somewhere in the back of the house. "Do you have company over? Because I can go."
"Company?" Joyce repeated, then frowned. "No, you're the only company I've had all day."
About to retort, Buffy heard someone walked towards them.
"Joyce dear, where did you put the . . . oh, hi there!" A man said as he walked into the hallway, but stopping when he saw the young girl.
"Hi," she replied, a tiny bit confused.
"Clem," Joyce said to the man, "This is Buffy Summers. Buffy, this is my friend, Clem Hoddway."
"Pleased to meet you, Buffy." Clem enthusiastically grabbed the hand of Buffy and shook it with the same intensity.
Clem was, to say it nicely, an odd looking man. Time had not been kind to him. All of his hair had fallen away with age, and the skin of his scalp gleamed in the light. His hair had stopped growing, but his ears and eyebrows hadn't, and both were ill proportioned to his head. Even weirder, his skin was that pale-pinkish hue that is common on new born babies, but doesn't have the same effect with aging men, especially those who have a bad case of wrinkles.
Buffy tried hard to stop staring, but Joyce seemed extremely immune to her friend's oddities.
"What were you saying, honey?" She asked Clem.
"Where did you hide the cilantro this time?" He replied.
Kissing him on the cheek, Joyce turned him towards the kitchen. "Behind the baking soda, the same place it always is," she informed him, playfully slapping his butt.
He growled comically, but began to make his way back to the kitchen.
Joyce called to his retreating form. "Oh, and put another potato in the oven. We're going to have company for lunch." She turned back to the blonde girl. "Do you like rosemary chicken?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Buffy couldn't believe how much she missed eating cooked meat. The past few weeks, she had been subsiding off of the cold deli meat of Wal-Mart, seeing how she had no way to cook anything. But that chicken . . . To this day, she still proclaims that no other meal tastes as good.
Through her large bites of lunch, Buffy found herself looking past Clem's odd façade. He was one of the friendliest people she had ever met. All through the meal, he kept inquiring as to her comfort, offering various beverages, side dishes, and so on.
"You're trying too hard," Joyce whispered teasingly when Clem offered the pregnant girl his chair. He replied with his middle finger, then apologized excessively when he remembered Buffy was there.
After lunch, the three went to the front of the house. Buffy and Joyce sat in chairs on the porch, relaxing, while Clem searched for a shovel to plant Buffy's tree.
During the meal, Buffy had retrieved the tree she stored on Joyce's front porch to explain why she came to visit. Lying slightly, she explained that the place she lived in didn't allow her to plant trees.
Joyce had gotten very angry when Buffy explained this, and although the woman merely shook her head, this anger shot out through her eyes.
"They won't allow you to plant a tree?" she would repeat over and over. "Ridiculous."
Planning on planting the tree herself, Buffy asked where the shovel would be, but Clem gently took the tree out of her hands, then shooed the two women to the porch.
"So," Buffy began, taking a sip of iced tea as she sat back in the lounge chair, "I don't think that you and Clem are just 'friends'."
Looking at the young girl sideways, Joyce hid a smile as she kicked off her shoes.
"Clem and I have been good friends for a long time. We have . . . an understanding."
"An understanding? So, that's what you kids are calling it these days." Buffy finished the statement with an evil grin.
When Joyce playfully slapped her on the thigh, the two began to laugh.
"What's so funny?" asked Clem as he approached the two, a shovel now in his hands. They didn't stop laughing, so he simply rolled his eyes. "Buffy," he asked when the two had calmed down, "How deep should the tree be planted?"
The girl shook her head. "I didn't get a chance to read all of the library book. So, I guess you want to plant it . . . deep?"
Joyce stood up to get the pitcher of iced tea as Clem went back to the yard, and began to refill the glasses.
"You went to the library today?"
"Mmmmhmm."
The older woman sat back down. "So, you must have met Rupert, the librarian."
Buffy nodded.
Taking an open sugar packet, Joyce stirred it into her tea. "Rupert and I are very good friends. My gallery is on the same block as the library, so I've gotten to know him well."
"Do you and Mr. Giles have an understanding too?" Buffy teased.
"Hush." Joyce threw a small ice cube at the girl.
After Buffy stuck out her tongue, Joyce continued. "Did you have a chance to meet William?"
"Who?"
"William, Rupert's nephew. Well, I guess he would introduce himself as Spike. He only lets a few people call him by his real name."
Scrunching up her forehead, Buffy thought back. She hadn't met anyone else this day, besides Mr. Giles and Clem.
"Spike." Joyce tried to explain, noticing Buffy's confusion. "He's a bit older than you, British. For some reason only known to him, he wears black a lot, bleaches his hair."
It sparked something in Buffy. So, the British bastard had a name.
"I see you did meet Spike," Joyce laughed when Buffy squinted her eyes and her nostrils flared out in anger.
"Yes, I did," she replied through clenched teeth.
"And I take it that he wasn't in a good mood."
"Nope."
"Well, then it must have been a bad day for him. Most of the time, he's the sweetest young man in the world. But, on other days, he can be . . ."
"A shit?" Buffy filled in.
"Enraged and insensitive," Joyce actually replied, giving Buffy a warning evil eye.
"Why's that?"
Taking a long drink of tea, Joyce thought of a way to explain it.
"William has been forced to deal with a lot. He came to live with his uncle when he was eleven after both his parents died. And there have been certain times where fate hasn't been to kind to him. I've watched him grow up since he moved here, and every time something goes wrong, he takes it and moves on. He is such an intelligent young man. Everyone in town thought he would go to some prestigious college after graduation, because he could really be anything he wanted. But, he has certain responsibilities at home, and he feels that he need to care for these issues before he moves on. Some days, everything will be fine, but on rare occasions, he has been known to lash out."
Huffing, Buffy crossed her arms. "He didn't need to 'lash out' at me!"
"It wasn't you," Joyce assured the blonde. "You were probably the most convenient target available, and probably right at this moment, he feels extremely bad for it. The next time you two meet up, you'll be the one to lash out because he won't stop apologizing."
Falling into a silence, the two women looked out over the yard. Buffy wasn't as angry as before, but since she was extremely stubborn, she wouldn't admit it. 'This William guy better apologize, or I'll kick his dick in the next time I see him!'
"It's all planted!" Clem announced, breaking through Buffy's thoughts as he stomped up the steps to wash off.
Feeling light after the serious conversation, the two giggled like schoolgirls as they walked to the spot where Clem planted Buffy's tree.
He had chose a spot off to the side, a part of the yard that was bare, but partially shaded over. It may have been her imagination, but Buffy thought the tree already looked better.
"I want you to know that I'll be taking care of this tree, so you won't have to do a thing, Joyce," Buffy explained to the woman, who was also looking at the tree.
"I hope so, because I'm a busy person, and I can't be bothered to take care of a tree." Joyce was uncharacteristically serious, and the young girl felt like she was taking advantage of her new friend's kindness.
"Well," she thought out quickly, hoping to put her at ease, "I'll come by whenever you want and water it and feed it-"
"Then you should come by every day, and stay for at least two hours," interrupted the woman.
"TWO hours?"
"Yes." And finally, Joyce turned to the girl, and gave her a big smile. "It'll take you five minutes to take care of the tree, and you and I will talk the rest of the time. By the way, you don't have plans tomorrow, do you?"
Rating: This will be rated R! Sorry kiddies, but I like using inappropriate language.
Author's Notes: I'm going home for the weekend, so I decided to post the next chapter. And, one of my favorite and, in my opinion, most underused characters in the Buffyverse makes an appearance. I know I'm gonna get a lot of flack for this, or just some pointed eyebrows of curiosity, but it's my AU, so get over it. Love you, so please review.
PS: Imzadi, I think you are a little obsessed with a certain character. But, because I love you, and because you won't leave me alone until I do so, one of the future chapters will contain an appearance by a certain brown-haired hottie. It isn't this chapter, but it will happen soon in the future. Happy now? Much love. ____________________________________________________________________________
* *
*
Chapter Six- Arrangements
"Oh my god." Joyce's face, before an expectant and friendly grin, had fallen to a confused stare. "I can't believe I thought you were Marie."
"It's a mistake. No big." Buffy shrugged.
"But," Joyce continued, leaning against the doorframe, "I feel so stupid."
"Don't."
Sighing with an amused air, Joyce stepped out onto her porch. "When I saw you sitting there . . . earlier that day, I was thinking about Marie and her sister, and Marie had the most lovely blonde hair I had ever seen on a little girl, and then I saw you . . ." Again, Joyce began to chuckle, then began to squeeze her forehead with her fingers. "I'm getting too old."
After Buffy's confrontation with Mr. Angry-British-Boy, she wandered the streets of Sunnydale in a blind rage, contemplating how to perform castration without getting caught. But when she finally calmed down, she found herself in the residential areas of the town, large Craftsmen houses with unique architechtual styles.
Revello Drive was located right in the heart of the areas. She happened upon the street by chance, and her face lit up when she read the green street signs.
1630 was five houses down the street. The two-story house was exactly the kind of place she dreamed of living in. The front yard, not extremely large, was well cared for, dominated by a large tree perfect for climbing up. Small, green shrubs disguised the backyard fence, the wood turning a slight gray from weather. And there was an actual porch in the front! Buffy couldn't believe she knew someone who lived in such a perfect house.
"Well," Joyce began, done with her mental punishment, "I suppose I should learn the name of the pseudo-Marie."
"Buffy Summers."
Smiling, Joyce stepped back into the house. "Well, Buffy Summers, won't you come in."
As she stepped in, Buffy felt her eyes open to comical proportions as she took in the sights of Joyce's home. It wasn't as elaborate as the library, but it was a comfortable elegance. The hallway was dominated by a large painting of, what appeared to be, tree leaves. In fact, various paintings and portraits covered all the walls of the home that she could see.
"What brings you here today," asked Joyce as she closed the door behind Buffy.
"I-" Buffy began, but was cut short when she heard a clatter come from somewhere in the back of the house. "Do you have company over? Because I can go."
"Company?" Joyce repeated, then frowned. "No, you're the only company I've had all day."
About to retort, Buffy heard someone walked towards them.
"Joyce dear, where did you put the . . . oh, hi there!" A man said as he walked into the hallway, but stopping when he saw the young girl.
"Hi," she replied, a tiny bit confused.
"Clem," Joyce said to the man, "This is Buffy Summers. Buffy, this is my friend, Clem Hoddway."
"Pleased to meet you, Buffy." Clem enthusiastically grabbed the hand of Buffy and shook it with the same intensity.
Clem was, to say it nicely, an odd looking man. Time had not been kind to him. All of his hair had fallen away with age, and the skin of his scalp gleamed in the light. His hair had stopped growing, but his ears and eyebrows hadn't, and both were ill proportioned to his head. Even weirder, his skin was that pale-pinkish hue that is common on new born babies, but doesn't have the same effect with aging men, especially those who have a bad case of wrinkles.
Buffy tried hard to stop staring, but Joyce seemed extremely immune to her friend's oddities.
"What were you saying, honey?" She asked Clem.
"Where did you hide the cilantro this time?" He replied.
Kissing him on the cheek, Joyce turned him towards the kitchen. "Behind the baking soda, the same place it always is," she informed him, playfully slapping his butt.
He growled comically, but began to make his way back to the kitchen.
Joyce called to his retreating form. "Oh, and put another potato in the oven. We're going to have company for lunch." She turned back to the blonde girl. "Do you like rosemary chicken?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Buffy couldn't believe how much she missed eating cooked meat. The past few weeks, she had been subsiding off of the cold deli meat of Wal-Mart, seeing how she had no way to cook anything. But that chicken . . . To this day, she still proclaims that no other meal tastes as good.
Through her large bites of lunch, Buffy found herself looking past Clem's odd façade. He was one of the friendliest people she had ever met. All through the meal, he kept inquiring as to her comfort, offering various beverages, side dishes, and so on.
"You're trying too hard," Joyce whispered teasingly when Clem offered the pregnant girl his chair. He replied with his middle finger, then apologized excessively when he remembered Buffy was there.
After lunch, the three went to the front of the house. Buffy and Joyce sat in chairs on the porch, relaxing, while Clem searched for a shovel to plant Buffy's tree.
During the meal, Buffy had retrieved the tree she stored on Joyce's front porch to explain why she came to visit. Lying slightly, she explained that the place she lived in didn't allow her to plant trees.
Joyce had gotten very angry when Buffy explained this, and although the woman merely shook her head, this anger shot out through her eyes.
"They won't allow you to plant a tree?" she would repeat over and over. "Ridiculous."
Planning on planting the tree herself, Buffy asked where the shovel would be, but Clem gently took the tree out of her hands, then shooed the two women to the porch.
"So," Buffy began, taking a sip of iced tea as she sat back in the lounge chair, "I don't think that you and Clem are just 'friends'."
Looking at the young girl sideways, Joyce hid a smile as she kicked off her shoes.
"Clem and I have been good friends for a long time. We have . . . an understanding."
"An understanding? So, that's what you kids are calling it these days." Buffy finished the statement with an evil grin.
When Joyce playfully slapped her on the thigh, the two began to laugh.
"What's so funny?" asked Clem as he approached the two, a shovel now in his hands. They didn't stop laughing, so he simply rolled his eyes. "Buffy," he asked when the two had calmed down, "How deep should the tree be planted?"
The girl shook her head. "I didn't get a chance to read all of the library book. So, I guess you want to plant it . . . deep?"
Joyce stood up to get the pitcher of iced tea as Clem went back to the yard, and began to refill the glasses.
"You went to the library today?"
"Mmmmhmm."
The older woman sat back down. "So, you must have met Rupert, the librarian."
Buffy nodded.
Taking an open sugar packet, Joyce stirred it into her tea. "Rupert and I are very good friends. My gallery is on the same block as the library, so I've gotten to know him well."
"Do you and Mr. Giles have an understanding too?" Buffy teased.
"Hush." Joyce threw a small ice cube at the girl.
After Buffy stuck out her tongue, Joyce continued. "Did you have a chance to meet William?"
"Who?"
"William, Rupert's nephew. Well, I guess he would introduce himself as Spike. He only lets a few people call him by his real name."
Scrunching up her forehead, Buffy thought back. She hadn't met anyone else this day, besides Mr. Giles and Clem.
"Spike." Joyce tried to explain, noticing Buffy's confusion. "He's a bit older than you, British. For some reason only known to him, he wears black a lot, bleaches his hair."
It sparked something in Buffy. So, the British bastard had a name.
"I see you did meet Spike," Joyce laughed when Buffy squinted her eyes and her nostrils flared out in anger.
"Yes, I did," she replied through clenched teeth.
"And I take it that he wasn't in a good mood."
"Nope."
"Well, then it must have been a bad day for him. Most of the time, he's the sweetest young man in the world. But, on other days, he can be . . ."
"A shit?" Buffy filled in.
"Enraged and insensitive," Joyce actually replied, giving Buffy a warning evil eye.
"Why's that?"
Taking a long drink of tea, Joyce thought of a way to explain it.
"William has been forced to deal with a lot. He came to live with his uncle when he was eleven after both his parents died. And there have been certain times where fate hasn't been to kind to him. I've watched him grow up since he moved here, and every time something goes wrong, he takes it and moves on. He is such an intelligent young man. Everyone in town thought he would go to some prestigious college after graduation, because he could really be anything he wanted. But, he has certain responsibilities at home, and he feels that he need to care for these issues before he moves on. Some days, everything will be fine, but on rare occasions, he has been known to lash out."
Huffing, Buffy crossed her arms. "He didn't need to 'lash out' at me!"
"It wasn't you," Joyce assured the blonde. "You were probably the most convenient target available, and probably right at this moment, he feels extremely bad for it. The next time you two meet up, you'll be the one to lash out because he won't stop apologizing."
Falling into a silence, the two women looked out over the yard. Buffy wasn't as angry as before, but since she was extremely stubborn, she wouldn't admit it. 'This William guy better apologize, or I'll kick his dick in the next time I see him!'
"It's all planted!" Clem announced, breaking through Buffy's thoughts as he stomped up the steps to wash off.
Feeling light after the serious conversation, the two giggled like schoolgirls as they walked to the spot where Clem planted Buffy's tree.
He had chose a spot off to the side, a part of the yard that was bare, but partially shaded over. It may have been her imagination, but Buffy thought the tree already looked better.
"I want you to know that I'll be taking care of this tree, so you won't have to do a thing, Joyce," Buffy explained to the woman, who was also looking at the tree.
"I hope so, because I'm a busy person, and I can't be bothered to take care of a tree." Joyce was uncharacteristically serious, and the young girl felt like she was taking advantage of her new friend's kindness.
"Well," she thought out quickly, hoping to put her at ease, "I'll come by whenever you want and water it and feed it-"
"Then you should come by every day, and stay for at least two hours," interrupted the woman.
"TWO hours?"
"Yes." And finally, Joyce turned to the girl, and gave her a big smile. "It'll take you five minutes to take care of the tree, and you and I will talk the rest of the time. By the way, you don't have plans tomorrow, do you?"
