Oh, this was not good. This was terrible. This was a no good, very bad idea and now it was out there an—oh dear. He was making that face again.
Beth stood still, biting her lip, as she watched the different expressions flit across her father's face. Buffy was sitting beside him, holding his hand, but judging from the almost far off look on his eyes, he didn't have a clue his wife had moved from the wall to him. Beth had never seen such an array of emotions all at once. He had at first looked to be in disbelief, then shock, and then anger, and then even more anger, and then finally disbelief again.
"A date?" he choked out, not believing it himself. How had his little girl gone and gotten a date? Who had dared ask his little Lizzie on a date? Did they not know who he was? What he had done? Did they want to die?
"Yes, a date," she reaffirmed with a head nod. Her mother had assured her it wouldn't be this bad. Spike had to have known it was coming and prepared somewhat for this new step in Beth's life. Beth hadn't believed her, but she knew she couldn't not tell her father. Buffy wanted to meet Jacob after all, and he was scheduled to pick her up two nights from now at six o'clock sharp. It was now or never.
"A date?" he said again.
"Oh, gosh, Mum, I think we broke him," she hissed frantically.
"Spike," Buffy said sternly, taking his face into her hands and turning it so he was looking at her. "Beth is going on a date in two days. He is coming here to pick her up and I think I speak for both us girls when I say we'd like it if you didn't do the whole 'Shotgun Dad Routine.'"
"I don't even own a shotgun," he murmured before shaking himself out of his stupor. Oh, there came the anger again.
"Who is he?" her dad demanded, standing up. "Where does he live?"
"You are not going to kill him," Beth told him, pushing him back down onto the couch. Quite a feat, considering he had been doing all he could to stay standing. Unfortunately for him, being one-part-vampire-one-part-slayer made her stronger than him and she was eventually able to push him back down. Buffy might have helped too. Hell hath no fury like a dad about to see his daughter off on a date anyway. "If you kill him, that defeats the entire purpose. He is taking me out to dinner to thank me for saving his life."
"I knew I should have been the one to get the yams," he grumbled, mentally kicking himself.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "Oh, you were too busy watching TV. And besides, this is a good thing," she stressed, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "So, if you mess this up, you will pay. For a long, long time. Long time."
He engaged in a staring contest with his wife, trying to see if she was bluffing. She didn't give though, holding eye contact and he eventually slumped back down into the couch.
"Alright, but I don' have to like it," he grumbled. "Curfew is eleven. No, ten."
"Dad," she sighed, rolling her eyes, "It's dinner. I don't think we'll even be out that late."
"But you never know. Don't worry if you two get caught up talking. Eleven is fine," Buffy cut in quickly and Beth refrained from groaning. Never before had she seen her parents on two different sides like this. Usually, Buffy wanted something and Spike then gave in because he was a pushover. That was how the world worked. But now her dad was glaring at her mom like she was sent here to be his own personal hell.
"You knew this was going to happen," Buffy told him when she noticed him glaring. "Beth has to date eventually, Spike."
"Yeah, when 'm dead!" he shouted.
"And when's that going to be? You've lived for how long?" she snapped. "Beth can date whoever she wants to!"
"Lizzie, you don't actually want to do this, do you?" he pleaded, switching tactics and victims.
She squirmed under her father's gaze. Fuck did he have such a pleading look. And it would be so easy to go back to the way things were; Beth feeling hopelessly unloveable and seeking out all her affection from her parents. But there was a hole in her chest that hadn't been there last year and she wanted it filled. She didn't know if Jacob was the answer, but she was sure as hell going to try and find out. "It's just one date, Dad," she tried to soothe. "And I already agreed. It would be rude to take it back."
"No it wouldn'," he promised.
"Spike, you haven't even met him yet," Buffy reprimanded. "He could be a nice boy. Like Daniel. You like Daniel."
"Daniel doesn' even know what a girl is, let alone what a teenage boy is supposed to do with one," he snarked.
"Ew, gross Dad!" Beth whined. "Don't talk about that stuff. Eugh, no. It's dinner. That's all. Dinner. Food. Eating."
"Calm down, Spike," Buffy sighed. "Beth's a responsible girl. She knows her own limitations. It's one dinner. And then maybe two."
The resounding chorus of "Mum!" and "Buffy!" was nearly deafening for the woman in question.
-.-
James took seat in the dining room again, this time the table cleared out so there would be no objects between him and the others. He sometimes preferred the table, to give a sense of detachment, but considering today's offense, he wanted it to be well understood that it was personal. After all, it wasn't every day that someone you trusted so blatantly lied to you.
Charlie stepped into the house once more, hoping it would be a relatively quick recap. He had better things to do than stand in a room full of power-hungry vampires, James no exception.
He walked into the dining hall, pausing when he saw the occupants. None of the heads of clan were present, only James and two of his oldest men, Elwood and Itzio. Itzio, always the emotionally distant one, only regarded him with vague distaste. Elwood, on the other hand, did little to hide his glee. Charlie hadn't known the vampire long, but he was beginning to feel the guy liked watching others suffer. It was a quality well seen in many vampires, and it was especially prominent in this one.
"You called for me?" he asked, trying to sound casual. He knew he was in for something, as he wasn't usually the star of the meeting.
James smiled at him coldly, and if he could be affected by temperature, Charlie would have been shaking. He had known James since the day he had been born into his new life and he had seen the many faces of that vampire, all which were something despicable.
"I have happened upon some interesting news recently," he began, smile still in place. "Would you like to guess what it is? You already know."
"Never been good at those guessin' games," Charlie admitted with a shrug, his eyes trained on Elwood. He knew that if anyone was going to try anything, it was going to be that rat bastard before anyone else.
"Oh, do humor me," James asked with a chuckle.
"Somethin' 'bout the slayer, I s'pose," he muttered.
"Oh, look, he's getting warmer," James sneered, all pretenses of friendliness vanishing. "It seems you forgot to tell me something most important about this slayer."
"Can't say I rightly know what," he responded, his mind already going through all the things that could possibly have gotten James in such a state of anger. He knew the Aurelian tended to have that effect of him, so maybe he'd have a run-in with Spike. Charlie could bluff his way out of that one if need be. It wasn't like he made of a habit of running into that Bleached Pinocchio.
"Don't play coy with me," James barked. "Pretty on a woman, but downright pathetic on a hillbilly like you. I know about the second slayer, Charles. Elizabeth, is it?"
He stiffened. So that cat was out of the bag, wasn't it? He ran over some excuses in his head, something that would properly explain why he didn't know about her, how he had never seen her, despite living in the basement of the very school she frequented.
"And allow yourself some last shreds of dignity by not trying to lie your way out of this," James hissed. "I do know that you and her have crossed paths, quite frequently it would seem. I've been told she visits you often. Are you her pet?"
The last sentence was said tauntingly and Elwood snickered. Itzio remained unmoved, looking almost bored. But one could assume that after living as long as Itzio had, lots of things bored you.
"I keep her off yer tail," Charlie tried to explain. "'Sides, she found me firs' an' I didn' want to die. You know better than to get on the business end of a slayer's stake. I ain't got treaty coverage like y'all."
"Excuses," James said. "You kept her existence from me, for what? Is she your friend, Charles? When it comes down to it, will she save a worthless vampire like you? She kills your kind. Here, under me, I offer you protection. I gave you a new life and this is how you repay me? By so blatantly going behind my back and withholding information?"
"I would never betr—"
James laughed harshly. "I don't wish to hear anymore from you." He sighed, looking down at his hands. "You know, I never had the hand at the art of Death. Vincenzo was good, but he was so sterile and cold about it. Rubio much preferred what came before death; he always had more fun in the fight. And me? I was just too brutal. I didn't savor it like others did, watching the light slow ebb from their victims' eyes as they grew still and limp. I wanted it bloody and quick.
"Now, Charles, you have always been such a companion to me through all these years. I have never once regretted siring you. And you have been of much help to me, more than I can even remember. And I do reward those who do me good. So, have no fear, I shall not kill you."
Elwood let out a gasp, looking as James with such disbelief. "But James—"
"Quiet," he barked, effectively silencing Elwood. "I said I would not kill you, but that does not mean I won't make you pay for your disloyalty. My bloodline had honored fidelity above all other things, even our reputation, and I will not have you sullying the very family I brought you into. I created you Charles, and I do not wish to be disappointed with my creations. You had been my best hope.
"Elwood, I am sure you are quite bored of all this lack of killing," James began, looking at his friend. "No violence or pain to help ease the tension." Elwood looked at James quizzically for a moment before he caught onto his meaning. His face broke out into a malicious grin and he turned his sights on Charlie, who did his best to school his features.
"You may continue to see the slayer, I don't care, but be sure to let me know of any pertinent information you come upon in the future. I do hope that after your lesson you will think twice before crossing me," James stated as Elwood approached Charlie.
Charlie nodded, keeping his eyes on Elwood. "Of course, Master. Don' think I will ever make that mistake again."
James smiled. "Good."
Elwood harshly grabbed Charlie by his forearm, pulling him out of the dining hall. Charlie followed easily, not wishing to enrage the vampire even further.
"Oh, and Charles?" James called out just as they were leaving the room. He turned his head to look at him, sitting so regally and unbothered in his chair. "This isn't about Vivien, now is it? I do understand you two were close, but it's been years, my friend. It's time we let bygones be bygones."
Charlie turned his head so James wouldn't see him clench his teeth. "No," he got out, "it's not about Vivien."
"Oh good," James said, leaning back in his chair. "I was afraid you had held onto such a frivolous thing. She wasn't right, after all."
"No, she wasn't," Charlie agreed as Elwood tugged him out of the room.
A door slammed in the household and James turned to look at Itzio. "Always such disrespect in the ranks," he sighed and Itzio nodded.
"Charles has spent many years on his own," Itzio explained. "It has been too long since he was subjugated by someone like you. He has forgotten that he is not his own person."
James sighed. "I do hope this will straighten him out. He is a vital piece of my team and I cannot have another infraction like this. Besides, if he has an in with the slayer, how can I pass up such an opportunity? I need to get in any way possible, to ensure I end this before word of my presence leaks out."
Itzio nodded. "If I do remember correctly, Elwood was always good at convincing people."
He nodded. "He was. Oh, the adventures we used to have. Vincenzo never thought they were very fun, but he never had much of a sense for fun. I bet Vincenzo never had these problems though, such deceit."
Itzio merely shrugged. "If I do recall, you caused him a lot of trouble, you and Rubio."
"Mm," James hummed noncommittally as the sound of screams filtered up from the basement. His finely tuned ears ensured he would hear the screams for as long as they lasted, likely through the night, leaving only enough darkness for Charlie to make it home without burning himself.
"Yes, well, I have many other matters to attend to this evening," he said, sitting up straight. "This better serve as its own reminder to you, Itzio. A vampire is always more loyal to his sire, but remember, I am still your superior and I am not afraid to take much more serious action against you."
"I wouldn't worry about me, Master," Itzio promised. "I sold my family out to Qi; you think I have anyone to care for?"
He laughed. "No, I supposed not. Run along now, I wish to finish my duties alone."
Itzio bowed, leaving James to whatever sorts he got up to. He bid farewell to Alecto, who was standing dutifully by the door. The two had been sired around roughly the same time and had thereby grown rather close to one another. It was one of the many reasons why Itzio had chosen to follow James after he left. Alecto had always been more loyal to James, and had rankled under the decision Vincenzo had made; it made sense for Itzio to follow after.
James closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of screaming as they filled the air around him. It had been years since he had been present to a proper torture and the sounds always comforted him. He leaned back in his chair, savoring the sounds.
-.-
Beth sat down beside Nadja and Daniel at lunch, trying not to look too disgruntled. "Is it date night?" Nadja inquired, always picking up on the micro expressions.
"No, but tomorrow is," she replied.
"While I may not have ever dated, I was always given the impression that is was a happy occasion," Daniel remarked. "You do not seem happy."
"It's my dad," she explained. "He's been acting all moody since I told him. I'm pretty sure he's been planning sabotage all day. My mum says she's going to watch him, but he can be sneaky when he wants to."
"Your dad sure is taking this poorly," Nadja noted.
"I'm assuming he was unsavory youth?" Daniel asked. "And thereby well aware of men's thoughts about pretty women?"
"Not youth, per say," Beth hedged, "but you got the second part right. He and his first girlfriend, well, whoof."
Daniel nodded sagely. "Yes, my uncle was very much the same. He grew out of it eventually, but not before making bad impressions on many people. Except he didn't have a daughter, but he had a niece, my cousin, and he scared away every possibly suitor she had until she moved to England for an internship. She met a nice accountant and they have three kids now with a fourth on the way."
"Wow," Nadja said. "Four kids? Can you imagine?"
"But this boy is harmless," Beth told them. "He's only a year older than me and is taking over a small tech company. He was a complete gentleman to me the entire time I was with him and he even opened my car door. Like who does that anymore?"
"Your dad's also incredibly protective," Nadja reminded her. "He's not going to take any boy in your life well."
"He takes Daniel well," she argued.
Nadja glanced over at Daniel for a moment. "Daniel is an oddity, aren't you?"
He nodded. "My mother has even remarked on how curious I am. But she's my mother, so she doesn't have a choice but to like me. Besides, as the only child to your father, I am sure he feels an extra sense of protectiveness toward you. While you are not delicate, he is still your father, and I believe all fathers wish their teenage daughters didn't spend time with boys."
"Except you," Nadja pointed out.
"You were the one who referred to me as an oddity," he reminded her. "I feel especially so in this case. He does not see me as a potential suitor."
"Well, he still hates Zack, and he's several thousand miles away," Beth said. "You can't have suitors who live thousands of miles away."
"But I assume his attention is on you when he visits?" he inquired and Nadja let out a bark of laughter.
"Like you wouldn't know," she snorted, and Beth shot her a withering glare.
"I think your father would prefer it if men's sole attention was not on you," he decided. "Like me. I admire your father too much to only pay attention to you."
"Should I feel offended?" Beth asked, scowling at her lunchbox. "This is stupid. Men are stupid. Jacob's going to be over tomorrow night and I swear if my dad does anything, I'm going to hate him forever and he will know it. Oh boy will he know it."
"Your mom's got a pretty tight leash on him, so I'm sure things will be fine," Nadja assured.
After lunch ended, Nadja cornered her before class. "You know you have to tell Daniel about your specialness, right?"
She sighed, banging her head against her locker. "I know," she sighed. "But I need to find a good time to do it."
"I think every time is a good time," Nadja replied. "I don't know if you noticed, but Daniel knows how to take things in stride. You'll probably tell him and he'll just nod and move onto another topic. The boy isn't fazed by anything. Period."
"There's still some decorum to something like this," she replied. "I need to be tactful about it."
"You mean like the decorum of you telling me in the woods or Zack while we were chained up in some cave, about to be killed by some demons?" Nadja asked.
"You know, I don't know if I did something in a past life, but I do not deserve this sass. It's Christmas time and Santa is watching."
"And you need to tell Daniel about being half-vampire," Nadja hissed. "And probably also about your dad, but that's really at your own discretion."
"And I will," she assured. "Don't worry. So far, nothing has happened that's got the cat out of the bag."
"I would have said the same thing about Zack and then we got kidnapped. You don't prepare for the disaster; the disaster just comes and eats you. Sometimes literally."
"I got it," she stressed, almost whining. "Now, go to Algebra and leave me alone."
Nadja threw her one last, pointed look before spinning on her heel and marching down the hallway toward class. Beth watched her go with a shake of her head.
-.-
Beth stood in front of her mirror, scowling at her own reflection. "Why a skirt?" she whined, tugging on the hem of the offending article. It was nondescript enough, just a nice black color, but it was flowy and stopped just a few inches above her knees, too much if you asked her.
"Because you want to look nice," her mom responded, admiring her daughter's reflection from the bed. She looked more into the night's date then Beth did, who was still scowling. It might as well have been permanently etched into her face from just how natural it looked on her.
"But pants can be nice," Beth reminded her and her mother sighed.
"You never wear skirts," she said. "Can't I just have this, just once? I let you dress in the same abomination that is your dad's 'style,' so let me have this once night. Just one."
"I've worn skirts before," she cut in. "I wear them every day to school, even when it's cold!"
"That's required. Now, come on, I want to do your makeup." Beth groaned, but allowed herself to get dragged into the bathroom. Her mom seemed really excited about all this and she didn't want to be too difficult. A little grouching was to be expected; Beth was normally difficult in all circumstances.
Luckily, it wasn't applied as darkly or as heavily as it had been the night she had gone under cover in the club. Jacob seemed different after all; not nearly as forward as that tousled hair vampire. Buffy had agreed, although she had never met Jacob. Her father had only snorted, mumbling something about all men having the same things on their minds before going downstairs to sulk. Buffy had locked the basement and had hidden the key (in the dishwasher; he would never even think to open that thing on an off day) so he couldn't go and get any weapons for intimidation. Bringing out a battle axe was likely to scare away any sane boy, Jacob included, and Buffy was doing all she could to make sure that didn't happen.
When she put on the finishing touches, she stepped back so Beth could get a look of herself in the mirror. While Beth was no stranger to makeup, she spent too much time sleeping in the morning to put as much work into it as her mother just had. She had to admit she looked nice, but begrudgingly.
"See? Look how nice you look," her mother complimented her.
She sighed. "I do, but still—how is this going to work? If Dad doesn't scare him off, I'm sure my vampire face will."
"Give him a chance," her mother told her softly. "People surprise you all the time. You get to choose your own time to do these things, but you can't let that fear consume you. Beth, you're always going to be who you are. So embrace that. You never know; he might be the one that gets you to see yourself in another light." Her voice ended on a tight note, almost sounding choked up, enough so that Beth whipped around to stare in alarm at her mother.
"Oh, please don't cry," she begged, seeing Buffy's eyes go misty. "It's just a first date! Just one! I'm sorry I said anything."
"My baby girl's growing up," her mother replied. "It might be your first date, but you never know what could come next. I'm happy, but it's so sad. I feel like just yesterday you were three and your dad was tucking you into bed."
"Oh gosh, now you sound like him," she muttered. "Mum, I haven't been three in thirteen years."
"Oh I know," she replied, flapping her hands in front of her eyes to dry them. "But for a mother, that's nothing. It's a blink of an eye. God, now I know how my mom felt and I started dating at thirteen. How did she deal?"
"She got Aunt Dawn through fake memories?" Beth suggested.
"Oh, I mean before that." A loud crash from downstairs took their attention.
"Spike!" Buffy hollered, instantly angry. "I swear if you're trying to get into the basement I will draw and quarter you!"
"'M not!" came Spike's response. Even Beth could tell he sounded guilty.
Buffy sighed, rubbing her temples in such a mom fashion, except it wasn't her sixteen-year-old daughter causing the tension, but her hundred-and-something husband who was acting like a teenager. "I'm going to go and watch him," she told Beth. "Make sure he doesn't actually break the door down."
"Don't forget about the kitchen knives," Beth reminded her and her mom's eyes went wide.
"Forgot about those," she murmured before running out of the bathroom, shouting, "Spike, get out of the kitchen!"
Beth rolled her eyes at her parents' antics, walking back into her bedroom to look at herself in the mirror again. If she were being honest, she did think she looked rather nice. Unlike what her mother thought, Beth did know how to dress nicely. She just chose not to.
"And don't change out of the skirt!" her mother called up the stairs, obviously having ended whatever debacle there was with her husband.
"I wasn't gonna," she grumped, crossing her arms over her chest. She headed downstairs, seeing her father sitting slumped on the couch, the picture of disgruntled man.
"How do I look?" she asked, even giving a little twirl.
As much as he hated to admit it, his daughter did look nice. If only it had been for a different occasion. "Fine," he grunted and she rolled her eyes.
"He was going for the kitchen knives," Buffy announced, glaring at her husband. "Do you want to traumatize the boy?"
Even Beth wasn't surprised when her father replied with an indignant, "Yes."
"Just because you were once some murderous vampire does not mean you get to be murderous dad. Beth needs a father figure and you can't do that in jail."
"Who said anything 'bout killing him?" Spike asked. "Was jus' gonna give him a fright. S'not like people don't know this house has weapons. You're a bloody slayer an' Beth's a bloody slayer an' 'm a bloody ex-vampire!"
"No scaring him," Buffy commanded him and Spike's speech deteriorated into incoherent grumblings.
The doorbell rang, breaking him out of his current funk and into a new one, much angrier one. "Well, let's meet the bloke," he said, standing up.
"Oh no," Buffy said, pushing him back. "I'll get the door. You are too angry to meet him. Maybe when you lighten up a bit, I'll let you see him. But right now, you are not ruining this for Beth."
Spike scowled, settling back down on the couch with such furiousness. Beth had never seen anyone sit angrily before.
Buffy hurried over to the door, shooting him one last glare before opening the door. "Hi, you must be Jacob, come on in," she gushed, already liking the boy. He was dressed once more in slacks, which were accompanied by a dark blue button-up. Good lord, he even had flowers. Was this not the poster child of the man every mother wanted her daughter to bring home?
"Nice to meet you, ma'am," he greeted, his eyes turning to Beth. She felt caught under the gaze, but it didn't help that she could feel her dad's eyes on her as well. He had migrated from the couch to the wall, giving him a better view of the "boy." Spike thought he looked like a ponce, but didn't voice that. He could gripe about it later, once Buffy wasn't upset he'd "ruin" things. But if this boy wasn't afraid of big ole' bad dad, what was the point of being a dad?
"We should get going," Beth decided, glancing over at her father before returning her gaze to Jacob. She took the flower from him, handing them to her mother. "Bye Mum, love you!" she called, rushing out the door.
Buffy sighed, a happy smile of her face as she watched her daughter go.
Spike came over to stand beside his wife. "Burn them," he hissed, talking about the flowers.
"Spike!" she said, smacking him.
Beth was relieved once they reached the car. At least it didn't give her father more time to think up different ways to tear off Jacob's head. He opened the car door for her and she slipped it, her eyebrows shooting up as she got her first impression on the interior of the car. The outside had been nice enough. It was like one of her Uncle Angel's cars.
"Like it?" he laughed, noticing her appraising expression. He turned the key in the ignition, the motor started with a nice purr. Most definitely a fancy-shmancy car.
"I think you and my uncle would have a lot to talk about," she told him. "He likes them flashy too."
He laughed again. "I'm not just one for flashy. I like vintage too."
"Vintage?" she repeated. "My dad's got a vintage car. I know it's pretty old. I think he got it in the 50s?"
"How'd your dad get a car in the 50s?" he asked, confused.
Oops. "I mean it's from the 50s," she quickly amended. "He wasn't even alive in the fifties. He's not that old."
"Well then, think he'd ever let me take a look at it?"
Despite herself, she laughed. "After the look he was giving you, I'm going to go with a no. He's probably never going to let you near his baby."
"His baby?" He chuckled. "And what about you? He's letting me take you out."
"My mother's very good at making him do things," she commented. "She is a slayer after all. Force of strength and all that. But don't think he doesn't hate you with a passion. I'm his only daughter and that means you might as well of had a target painted on your head."
"Well, good thing I didn't notice him when I came in. I was a little focused on something else," he said, throwing her a look that held enough implicit meaning to make her blush. "You look lovely, by the way. I probably wouldn't have done well under your father's hateful gaze, but he can't hate me forever, can he?"
She thought about it for a moment. "No, he's kind of like a dog with a bone. He doesn't know when to let it go. I have a friend, who's not even in this state anymore, and my dad hated him. Passionately. Every time he came over, my dad would let him know just how unwelcome he was."
"Well, maybe that's because your friend had a bit of a crush on you," he suggested.
She snorted. "No, I would have noticed that."
They arrived at the restaurant a few minutes later, an elegant looking place she would have never have gone to on her own. It looked like one of those evening-gown-cocktail-dress type places and she felt underdressed in her skirt and shirt. It also didn't help that she was sixteen and looked waaaay too young to frequent such a place. The youngest couple she saw looked to be in their late thirties. At least Jacob had the "I look older for my age" thing going on.
"Reservations for Jacob Carne," he said to the maître'd. The woman smiled at him and led them into the restaurant and to a table near the back. He pulled out the chair for her and she took it, sitting down. She smoothed out the napkin over her lap, trying to remember what little etiquette she had been taught. Giles had thought it was important enough to at least give her a run through once when she was eight, probably because he was simply astounded by the lack of etiquette both her parents had. Buffy had the excuse of growing up in a very different time and environment. Spike, not so much when it got out that he came from English society. He was an abomination and an insult to his family (according to Giles, that is).
"Very fancy," she noted, eyeing the line of forks. Work your way in, right?
He laughed when he realized why she was looking so intensely at the utensils. "Don't worry, I can help you," he told her. "I sometimes forget that what was such a big part of my own childhood was not in everyone else's."
"Oh, well don't think my grandfather didn't try," she informed him. "I just inherited my short attention span from both of my parents, so the lesson didn't last very long before I was up and running around. That's what happens when you teach an eight-year-old the difference between a dessert fork and a salad fork."
"Oh, but it's so easy," he teased.
Unfamiliar with most of the foods on the list (she may have been to Italy, but that was to kill some gigantic slug, not to speak Italian), she let Jacob pick something out for her once she told him her preferences.
"Wow, that was some pretty nice Italian," she commented as she handed the waiter her menu.
"My father thought it was necessary that I learn all the romance languages," he told her. "I even speak Latin."
"No one just speaks Latin," she responded. "Either you practice magic or you're just guessing."
He smiled. "Fine, I read it."
"Why'd your dad insist on Latin though?"
He shrugged. "He made me do a lot of things I didn't find necessary. Take dancing. Not much of a necessary skill, now is it? Sure, maybe whatever fad is currently sweeping the clubs, but not ballroom."
"Oh, even I know how to ballroom dance," she told him with a wave of her hand. "My dad taught me how to do that. I thought it was fun, even if I'm never ever going to be caught in a situation where I need to use it. I'm still happy I learned it. It's like one of those conversation starters. Your mum ever insist on any other upper-society skills?"
He frowned. "I didn't have a mother."
Oh dear lord, Beth's eyes went so wide at that admission. "Oh goddesses, I am so sorry. I just put my foot in my mouth, didn't I? I shouldn't have assumed, oh geez."
He laughed at her obvious fluster. "Don't worry too much about it. She was never around when I was a child."
"Oh, so not dead?" she hedged, hoping she wasn't dipping herself into off-limits territory again.
He shrugged. "Just not present. My father had very many girlfriends though."
"Not all at the same time I hope," she commented.
"No, not always," he responded with a grin. "He did understand some more of the finer points of 'free love.' I didn't like most of them anyway, mainly as they were just as stuck-up as he was. I don't think they ever knew how to have a fun time."
"That explains why you wanted so badly to come up here for a job," Beth said. "Couldn't get away from his fast enough, could you?"
He nodded. "Yes, he is such a dreadful person. I haven't spoken to him in such a long time, something I would like to continue for as long as the both of us are alive."
"Gosh, I can't imagine having that kind of relationship with my parents," she admitted. "While my dad's got a protective streak a country wide, I still love him."
"Do not consider it a burden then," he told her. "He protects because he cares."
The rest of dinner went by smoothly, punctuated by further conversation. She learned that Jacob had done a lot of traveling in his life, as his father had preferred to not live in one place very long. "He got what he could out of a society, art, sciences, women, and then he grew bored with it and we went elsewhere to repeat the process," he had explained with a laugh. They hadn't gone to North America though, so Jacob had pounced on the opportunity to take a job with his uncle here.
It had, overall, been a nice evening. Jacob was a picture-perfect gentleman, and she couldn't have asked for better. He was nice and courteous; providing anecdotes all while still expressing interest in her own life. The dinner was amazing (she was definitely going to have to tell her Aunt about this one). And overall, she'd gotten a nice date out of a cute boy! Check that one off of her to-do list.
"Thank you for spending the evening with me," Jacob told her as they were leaving. They were waiting for the car to be pulled around, standing outside on the sidewalk. "I had a great time and I hope you did too."
"Oh, I did," she promised. "Very nice dinner and very nice company."
His smile seemed to grow at that comment and he said, "I am glad you think so. Now, this may seem a bit forward of me, but I really did have a nice time and I would like to do it again, if you'd let me."
There was a part of her that was downright telling her "no." It was a small voice, one in the back of her head that was telling her this wasn't right. He wasn't right. It didn't sound like her father, but why else would it be telling her no? It was what she ultimately wanted, wasn't it? And as scared as she was of his reaction to her other self, she knew she had to give him a chance, like she had Nadja and Zack. She wasn't some unloveable freak; she was Beth, and some might say that was a pretty rad thing to be.
So despite the growing uneasiness in her mind, she smiled at him. "Yes, I would love that."
-.-
"You're going on a second date?" Despite it being the same sentence, the very tone in which her mother and father had said it differed drastically. Whereas Buffy sounded elated, just so over the moon about it, Spike sounded devastated and he looked the part too.
"Oh, I'm so happy!" her mother cheered, pulling her daughter into a hug. Beth smiled weakly, a tumultuous feeling growing in her stomach, like something inside of her just gotten twisted.