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04 December 2004 @ 09:23 pm
Father of the Brat, chapters 3 & 4/ Deadly Games, ch. 2  

Okay, so I should've posted this earlier but I didn't think of it until after.  So I'm doing it now.  I'm posting the next two chapters of Father of the Brat and another chapter of Deadly Games.  Hopefully by the time I post the last chapters of these, I'll have written new ones.  And then there won't be this big lag between updates.  Ah well.  Here we go!

 

“Oh, dear Lord.” Rupert Giles said as he began cleaning his glasses. Spike smirked. It was such a typical reaction of his father’s; clean your glasses when something shocks or bothers you. He was much more proper than Spike had ever been. Or probably ever would be. Giles, as the librarian had been known since Spike was in high school, put his glasses back on. “You…you have a daughter?”

“That’s right, Pops. You’re a grandpa.” Spike told him. He grinned at the scowl that crossed Giles’ face.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“What? Pops? Right then, I’ll stop calling you that, Grandpa.”

Giles let out an exasperated sigh. “Honestly, Will, must you always be so damn…”

“Witty? Charming? Sexy? Yes, to all of the above, mate.” Spike interrupted.

Oh, dear Lord. The poor girl was doomed. Giles looked at Spike and decided that this might be the time to bring up a somewhat touchy subject.

“Will…now that you’re going to be a father, it might be time to stop bleaching your hair.”

A look of horror crossed Spike’s face and he shot up out of his seat. “Are you mad? There’s no bloody way I’m changing my hair! It’s fine the way it is! Next thing I know, you’ll be wanting me to get rid of my duster.”

“Well, actually…”

“No. No, no, no.” Spike exclaimed, waving his hands in front of him as if that would stop the thought from forming. “Absolutely not. Just because I suddenly have a daughter does not mean that I have to change the way I look. I refuse. I can be a father as myself just as easily as I could if I dressed like a nancy boy!” Spike spun around and left the library, muttering about old men and their daft notions.

Suddenly, Spike walked back in. Still looking extremely offended and angry, he walked back to the chair he had been sitting in.

“I forgot my duster.” he told Giles in a tone that had him expecting to see Spike pouting. Then, just as quickly, he walked back out. Giles sighed again.

“Oh, dear Lord.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


“You what?” Angel Gray asked, staring in disbelief at the blonde man sitting across from him.

“I’ve got a daughter.” Spike repeated slowly as if he were speaking to a two-year old.

“You’ve got a daughter.” Angel repeated.

“Is there an echo in here?” Spike looked around the room as if searching for something before raising an eyebrow in Angel’s direction. Angel just looked back at him, causing Spike to roll his eyes.

“Spike, I’m assuming that the reason you’re telling me this is because it’s going to affect your job.”

“Well, bloody hell, Peaches, of course it’s going to affect my job. I’m going to have a teenage daughter, I can’t just go somewhere at the drop of a hat anymore. That’s why I came to talk to you. I’d like to stay at the magazine, but I won’t be able to continue traveling. So, I was wondering if you could just…reassign me.” Spike told him. Angel considered it before nodding.

“Yeah, I could arrange that. Jonathan wants to travel more, so this would be the perfect opportunity for him. Okay, you can do local stories and the farthest that you’ll be traveling is Los Angeles, most likely. How does that sound?” Angel asked. Spike smiled and nodded.

“Sounds just fine, Peaches, just fine.”

“Oh, and Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t call me Peaches.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Spike looked around the Espresso Pump while he waited for his best friend, Xander Harris, to arrive. In Spike’s opinion, they had a weird friendship, but it was a friendship that had helped both of them a lot over the years.

They had met freshman year of high school and immediately made it their mission to make the other’s life miserable. Then, in sophomore year, Spike had begun dating Harmony Kendall who went around calling him her “Blondie Bear.” Xander, knowing that Spike hated the nickname, made the mistake of calling him by it on one of Spike’s bad days. Spike punched him in the face for it and the two had come out of the fight bruised, bloodied, and friends for life. They even worked at the same magazine, though Xander was involved in graphics.

And, of course, Xander still called Spike “Blondie Bear” just to annoy him. It worked every time.

As if on cue, a hand slapped Spike on the shoulder. “Hey Blondie Bear! How ya doing, you ugly jackass?” Xander asked as he slid into his seat, grinning. Spike scowled.

“Don’t call me that.” he growled.

“What’s the matter? The truth hurt?” Xander’s grin got wider as he deliberately misunderstood Spike’s order. Xander looked like Spike’s exact opposite. He had black hair and brown eyes. He was tall and lean with an air that could give away his mischievous sense of humor even before he let the sarcastic remarks fly.

Spike sent him a mock glare before shaking his head. “All right Xander, you said you had some news. Let’s hear it.” At that, Xander’s smile seemed to change a little.

“You don’t want to share yours first?” he asked. Spike shook his head.

“You go first. I bet you I can top your news with mine.” Xander raised both his eyebrows at the challenge before the happy smile returned.

“Okay, Bleach Boy. I’m in love.” Xander announced.

“Is this going to be like the bug lady?”

“I’m serious, Spike.”

“So was I.” Spike paused before holding up a hand. “Well, then you’re in love. The lady have a name or no?”

“Her name’s Anya Jenkins and I’ve been dating her for the past month and a half.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Spike burst out. Then, as if realizing how truly girly that sounded he added, “And are we talking about the Anya Jenkins from Financing? The one who thinks all men are evil?” Anya Jenkins was known at the magazine for practically hating men ever since she had gotten out of a serious relationship with her longtime boyfriend, Scott Hope. As a matter of fact, some people muttered about her being some type of vengeance demon after she had, well, gotten her revenge on him for cheating on her.

Xander smile slowly reappeared. “Let’s just say that I’m definitely changing her mind about that.”

“Bloody hell, you’re sleeping with her!”

“Say it a little louder why don’t you? I don’t think the people outside heard you.” Xander hissed, his face turning slightly red. Sometimes being with Spike in public was an experience that just couldn’t be described. In a bad, red face type of way.

“Sorry, just...I can’t believe someone would actually sleep with you.” Spike teased.

“Oh shut up, Captain Peroxide. What’s your news?” Xander asked as he took a drink of water.

“I just found out I have a daughter.” Spike announced very calmly. Xander, on the other hand, started choking. Spike reached over and slapped him on the back a couple of times. "You okay, mate?” Xander nodded.

“A daughter? When? How?” At Xander’s last question Spike smiled.

“To answer your questions…yes, about fifteen years ago, and if I have to tell you how then obviously you aren’t doing as well as you thought with Anya.” Xander glared at him.

“So…mind explaining why you never knew before now?” he asked Spike. Spike explained the entire story to him about Dru and how she had died and how he had only found out because of some social worker. After he was done, he grinned.

“And you’ll never guess who the social worker was.”

“Probably not, so just tell me.”

“Buffy Summers. Want me to say hello for you when I meet her at the airport?”

“Buffy? As in the Buffy that you spent you’re entire high school career annoying and teasing and just basically torturing?”

“Yes, that Buffy. Bloody hell Harris, do you really need to use that many words to get to the point?”

“Well…yeah. So, you’re meeting Buffy Summers at the airport the day after tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I am.” Something in Spike’s tone of voice alerted Xander. He knew that tone of voice. He’d heard it many times since high school. It was the tone of voice Spike used when he was interested in a woman…in a more than friendly way.

“Spike what are you going to do?”

“Nothing! Just because the chit went and grew up since the last time I saw her doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything.” Spike insisted quickly. Too quickly.

This time it was Xander who grinned. “Oh, I see.”

“See what?”

“Nothing, Mr. I’ve-suddenly-discovered-that-Buffy’s-gorgeous-and-now-I-want-her-in-my-bed.”

“I do not.” Spike said. At Xander’s skeptical look, he shook his head. “I don’t!”



Chapter 4:

Thud.

Willow Rosenberg winced as Buffy's head hit the table. She glanced at her fiancé, Daniel 'Oz' Osbourne. He merely shrugged at the petite redhead.

"Buffy.hitting your head like that can't be good for you." Willow said. Buffy lifted her head and stared at Willow for a couple of seconds before letting her head fall back on the table.

"Why did it have to be Spike? Spike! The guy whose idea of fun was pulling my hair and.and.he didn't even recognize me!" Once more, Willow glanced over at Oz.

"And.that's a bad thing?" she asked, a hint of confusion in her voice.

"Could be." Oz observed calmly. At that, she smiled. Oz had once been described as being able to "express himself in short, non-committal sentences" and she had to agree.

"Yes! I mean, no! It's a good thing. Very good." Buffy exclaimed, lifting her head. Willow nodded slowly. She and Buffy had been best friends since elementary school and yet, sometimes she found herself confused by Buffy's logic.

"Right. Okay."

"No, really. I'm glad he didn't recognize me. Such a stupid, annoying, sexy, charming.annoying idiot British man!" Buffy protested.

"You said annoying twice." Oz told her helpfully.

"Well.well, he is." Willow grinned.

"Hmm.methinks the lady doth protest too much." It all made sense now. "You want to jump his bones."

"Willow!"

"What? It's not like anyone would disagree with you. He was always gorgeous and, as you've already pointed out, sexy. Right, Oz?"

"I may be secure in my manhood, but I am still going to refuse to answer that question."

Willow's eyes widened slightly. "Oh! Right, okay, I can understand that."

"Can we please change the subject?" Buffy asked.

"Sure... so does he still have the leather duster?"

"Willow!"

"Oh, fine. I'm going to be teaching the students a new kind of software. There, subject changed." Willow was the technology teacher at UC Sunnydale; it was something that she had discovered she wanted to do in high school, when she had become the temporary computer teacher before Jenny Calendar was hired. As Willow started to talk about the new software, Buffy couldn't help but let her mind wander to the next day when she would be meeting Spike at the airport and wonder what might happen. 

 

Deadly Games: Anticipation

Morgan glanced around at everything around her. Bags were piled at her feet and each of them were filled with clothes and various other accessories. They were now at the shoes.

"Jesus." she muttered. "So much for getting just one outfit." She rolled her eyes as Lila and Amanda contemplated a pair of black slingback heels. "Aren't you two done yet? I'm hungry!" Lila barely spared Morgan a glance as she studied the shoes and imagined the outfit they would go with.

"No."

Morgan let out a frustrated sigh. "For God's sake, just pick a damn pair of shoes already! There were at least three that would go great with the black skirt." she said, dropping into a chair, knowing that they would be a little while longer. "You promised me food."

"You'll get your food." Lila told her, holding up a pair of shoes up for Amanda's inspection. Amanda shook her head and wrinkled her nose.

"Definitely not. Those would make my feet look huge."

"The shoe equivalent of 'these pants make my butt look big.'" Morgan muttered, causing Amanda to raise an eyebrow at her.

"You be quiet. We're in the middle of something very important here." She turned back to Lila and held up two pairs of shoe. "High or low heel?" she asked.

Morgan's head dropped into her hands. "I'm doomed." she moaned.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Thank God." Morgan exclaimed dramatically, dropping into the chair as if her life depended on it. Amanda shook her head.

"Oh, quit complaining. It wasn't that bad. You even bought a pair of shoes." she pointed out.

"Under duress. I was forced to buy those shoes."

"Sure you were Morgan. Just like we used our telepathic powers to order you to go look at them, then try them on." Lila said, snorting.

"Exactly."

"Hate to break it to you, but we don't have telepathic powers, which means you did it all on your own." Morgan waved a hand, dismissing the statement.

"Mere technicality." She looked up as the waiter approached their table. "I'll be your slave forever if you get me a cold beer. Whatever you have on tap is fine."

"She gives her affections so easily." Amanda sighed.

"I deserve it after what I've been through."

"I'll have a beer as well." Lila interrupted, giving the waiter a smile. Amanda turned from where she had gotten involved in a short debate with Morgan.

"Make that three beers." she said. "Oh by the way, Lila, we got a call from someone new today." she added as the waiter walked away.

"You're not talking business tonight. No." Morgan shook her head and waved her hands in front of her. "I won't hear of it."

"It's important." Amanda insisted. "A brand new client who is willing to give you full rein to do what you want with the place. She's willing to pay top dollar. Think of it as a blank canvas." she told Lila. Lila raised her eyebrows.

"I'm listening."

"Well, that's pretty much it. All you have to do is accept the job." Amanda shifted in her seat, causing Lila to look at her suspiciously.

"There's a catch isn't there?"

"Well..." Amanda trailed off. Lila sighed.

"Out with it, Amanda." she ordered.

"They're still in the process of building their house which means that there will be times where you'll have to work with the architect." Amanda said in a rush. Lila groaned.

"The architect?" she cried. "I hate it when that happens." It hadn't happened often but the few times that it had, the experience hadn't been too pleasant.

Morgan shook her head at Lila. "Oh who cares? Sure, the architect can be a pain in the butt sometimes but think of all the possibilities for the house. Like Amanda said, a blank canvas. You won't have to go through the repairs or paint over a wall that's been painted at least three times. You can do whatever." When both Lila and Amanda just looked at her she shrugged. "What? I pay attention when you talk about your work, that's all."

"Fine. I'll take the job." Lila said, giving in. Though, she hadn't put up much of a fight anyway. The waiter walked up, handing each of their drinks and asking if they were ready to order causing each woman to shake her head. He left.

"Well, then. Let's drink to it. To the newest customer of Lila's Fantasies. May they be willing to spend a lot of money so that the two of you can do anything and everything you want to the rooms...and may the architect be an absolutely gorgeous man." Morgan announced, lifting her glass in a toast. Laughing, Amanda and Lila lifted their glasses as well, clinking them against Morgan's. But even though she was smiling as she took a sip, inside Lila wasn't too happy about having to work with the architect.

A builder who thought that he knew all there was to know about interior design. Great. And with her luck, he'd be short, thin, balding and old enough to be her father.

Oh yeah, this was going to be buckets of fun.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

William Ashton frowned as he studied the first level of the two story house that he was currently working on. He'd just been told that the interior designer would be coming in a few days, if they accepted the job.

He sighed, running a hand through hair the color of mahogany as he walked into the next room. His eyes were a deep blue that could flare cold or hot. He had high cheekbones and a strong jaw and a nose that had been broken once during his youth, which gave his face a rugged look. He ate up the space between rooms with a quick stride and stopped to observe that room as well. He was tall at just a couple of inches over six feet and, some might say, lanky. He was also well-muscled, a fact that was accentuated by the leather jacket he wore which stopped about four inches below his waist, and tan from hours spent working both inside and out.

"Hey, Will, ready to go?" someone asked from behind him. Will turned to find Randy Holder watching him and grinned. Randy could be serious at times but this obviously wasn't going to be one of them was all he could think as he took note of the sawdust was sprinkled over his face. With sandy brown hair and light green eyes, he was only an inch shorter than Will. "Come on, you ready to hit the town and get down you funky party weasel?"

"I'm going home, Randy." Will replied dryly. "So unless there's a party at my place that I don't know about, then no I'm not ready to get down."

"That only happened once and I think you're blowing it completely out of proportion."

"You were throwing a party at my house. Without me knowing about it. How is that blowing it out of proportion?"

"It was a party for you! A surprise party that your very own mother helped plan." Randy pointed out. He studied Will as they walked out. "This can't all be about the interior designer showing up can it?"

Will shook his head. "Bad day, that's all. This just added to it." Randy threw an arm around Will's shoulders and pulled him through the door.

"Aw, cheer up buddy! Think of it! The interior designer could be a hot woman who, unlike the rest of the female population, might be willing to get together with me! Would you really deny a friend that possibility?"

Will shook his head, a wry grin crossing his face, the need to scowl having left him at Randy's joking. "Sure. Keep telling yourself that, pal. It's good to be optimistic." he teased.

"Crush all my hopes why don't you?" Randy said.

Will just shrugged in response as he and Randy walked out of the house. This definitely hadn't been his day after finding out that he was going to have to start working with an interior designer soon.

A house decorator who probably thought that they knew everything about architecture and was going to be annoyingly pushy. And she'd probably be like the last interior designer that he had worked with and have short greasy hair and be one of those people who thought that going natural and without deoderant was more attractive. Or, like the designer before that, a gay man, something that he wouldn't have minded except that he wouldn't take no for an answer and thought that Will just needed to know the love of a good man.

Will fought back another sigh. Oh yeah. He just couldn't wait for all the fun to start.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lila studied the plain white envelope that she'd found mixed in with her other mail and frowned. There was no address, just her name, which meant that it had been put directly into her mailbox. Shrugging, she stuck her thumb under the flap and began to tear it open.

A single sheet of paper slid out and fluttered out, landing facedown on the table. Lila reached over and picked it up, turning it over. A frown appeared on her face at the simple message that had been written there in block lettering.

I love you, Lila.

"What?" Lila asked out loud. Then she shook her head. Her last client had been overly enthusiastic about how well Lila had done and what a wonderful person she was. It was probably from them since they knew her address from driving her home once when her car wouldn't start. Just another way to express their gratitude or something. "Weird." she muttered. She shrugged it off and threw it in a drawer with other papers that she would get around to throwing away or shredding. It was forgotten almost immediately.

She opened up her planner and studied the page that was for the next day, checking to see what she would have to do so that she would be free to start up at the new house. Thankfully, she was in the final stages at the Henderson house and the only thing left was the pillows that would be covered with the fabrics that would be arriving in two days, along with the curtains that would be made to match. There were also some finishing touches that had to be made, but nothing major.

She made a note to call her newest client tomorrow and accept the job.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The shadows hid him as he stood outside her house and watched her through the window as she studied her plans. She was beautiful. He just loved the line that sometimes appeared between her eyebrows when she contemplated something, the way it was right now as she studied different color schemes and which materials would go with each. That meant that she was going to be starting a new job and she wanted to be prepared with different options.

Wouldn't she love to know that he knew her so well?

He kept his eyes on her as she stretched and absently reached for the water that she had next to her. He drew back further into the shadows as she finished the drink and got up to go into the kitchen. She came back empty- handed.

Somewhere down the street, a dog began to bark a few times and then stopped suddenly as its master came to quiet it. He was glad. There shouldn't be anything, any noise that interrupted this time he spent here. She didn't know it, but this was his favorite part of the day. The part where he could come watch her and be near her.

She frowned and switched a few things around before smiling. It was a wonderful smile, one that meant she was happy with whatever she had just accomplished. He loved it when she smiled. His gaze never wavered as she began to clean up and put her papers away, stuffing them into the large bag that she used to carry her supplies.

Had she gotten his card? He couldn't help but wonder if it had made her smile just as she had moments ago.

His breath began to quicken as she stood up and disappeared from sight, turning out the lights as she went. He knew what that meant. It meant that she was going to bed. Would she braid her hair tonight or leave it down? He closed his eyes and felt a stirring of desire as he imagined her stepping into her nightgown and pulling a brush through her hair. In his mind, she left her hair down because that was the way he liked it best. Once she knew who he was, she would. He had no doubt about it. Once she knew how much he loved her, she'd want to please him as much as he would please her.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and turned to walk away, shifting a bit as he noticed the new tightness of his jeans.

Someday. 

 

 
 
Feeling: accomplishedaccomplished
Soundtrack: Buffy the Vampire Slayer theme song
 
 
 
jaded_angltears on December 4th, 2004 10:08 pm (UTC)
Oh how I love this story! ^_^ But I've already read all your updated chapters so I'm just gonna re-read.

I heart Morgan! She's the friggin' best! LOL. But yeah, can't wait till you post more!
Nicoleblue_icy_rose on December 4th, 2004 10:23 pm (UTC)
LOL, you and Mar both like her! I'm glad that you guys like it. Because I love hearing what the people I actually talk to and know think about it.

Not that the stuff that other people has to say is bad. But I think you guys get what I mean, right?
jaded_angltears on December 4th, 2004 10:29 pm (UTC)
Of course we do! I feel the same way about mine. ^_^
¤ Leira ¤ Storm-Destiny ¤: Dracomidnight_divine on December 5th, 2004 12:42 am (UTC)
You know,
You have me excited to know what's happening in this story. Is this feeling of suspense what people feel when they read something of mine that's "good"? Lol Ahh, it's a bitch...
Nicoleblue_icy_rose on December 5th, 2004 11:51 pm (UTC)
Then I am doing my job...lol. And yes, this is the feeling we get. Welcome to our world! ^_^