Buffy sighed in pleased exhaustion as she fell back onto the comfort of Spike’s throw rug. She moaned and rolled over to stare into his azure eyes.

A girl could really get used to this. No…no. Bad Buffy. Spike and Buffy do not equal lovey, schmoopy goodness. Bad Buffy. God…Spike looks so hot all naked and sweaty and…NO! Bad Buffy get out of my head!

“Argh,” Buffy groaned, putting her hands over her face.

Spike raised an eyebrow and looked at her in confusion.

“What’s the matter, pet?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just…meh…we missed the bed again.”

Spike chuckled.

“That we did, pet.”

A momentary silence passed before Spike cleared his throat.

“Right then. Shouldn’t you be off now, virtue all aflutter?”

Buffy balked at his remark.

“Why? Got an important meeting in the morning?”

“Actually, yes. Really need some rest, love…if that’s alright by you, I mean.”

Pouting, Buffy stared at Spike.

“Why can’t I stay? I’ll sleep. I’m the Queen of Sleepovers.”

Spike laughed, shaking his head.

“Pet, if you stay over there’ll be no sleep for old Spike. You’re the Queen of Shag-Overs is what you are. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

“Oh, of course not,” she said firmly, her resolved pout plastered on her face.

Pecking her lightly on the forehead, Spike stood up, dragging her to her feet with him.

“Now, Buffy Anne Summers, what have you been told about overstaying your welcome?

“Hey! If anyone overstays his welcome it’s you, buster!”

“Oi! Now you watch that lip, Slayer. Get your frilly things then, and off you go. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Oh like hell you will! If you think….”

“Now don’t try my patience, Slayer. One more negative word and I’ll toss your naked arse out for all the demon folk to ogle.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

She scoffed and bent over to collect her clothes; fully aware of the image she was showing Spike.

“You don’t have the stones, Spike. You love me too much to…HEY!!!”

Quicker than Buffy could react, Spike scooped her up and tossed her unceremoniously in a heap outside of his crypt, before turning around and barring the door behind him. After shouting for a moment, and then ducking behind a bush to avoid a passing vampire, Buffy gently knocked on the crypt’s door and whispered to Spike.

“Spike? Can I please have my clothes back now?”

“Nope,” he yelled through the door, “not until you apologize for being a daft bint and promise that you’ll come back for a right nasty shag tomorrow night.”

Buffy started to protest, but then sighed in defeat.

“Fine.”

“Fine, what?”

“I’m sorry I was a ‘daft bint’.”

“And…?”

“I’m not saying it.”

“Getting awful cold out there, in’t, Slayer?”

Buffy emitted a low growl and rolled her eyes.

“FINE! I’ll come over tomorrow night.”

“For what, pet?”

“Sex.”

“For what now?”

“For a ‘right nasty shag?’”

“Right. And who’s going to give it to you?”

“You are.”

“Who is?”

“Spike, please.”

He chuckled inside the crypt an unbarred the door.

“Alright, pet, c’mon in for your sodding clothes.”

Buffy rolled her eyes as she opened the door. Spike pulled her in and thrust his rock hard erection into her before she realized what was happening. She moaned in ecstasy as he barraged her mouth with salty kisses.

“I thought…guh! Thought you had to get to sleep…early…oh Spike! Uh! Early morning?”

“All that talk of shagging you…oh Gods, Buffy, right there! I couldn’t…couldn’t help m’self, pet.”

An hour later, a fully clothed and fully satiated Buffy made her way home from the Restfield cemetery. Spike watched her walk away with a lustful stare, and then turned his attention to the sarcophagus in the center of the crypt. Pushing the top off of it, he took out a barrage of hi-tech gadgets, all bearing the Microsoft logo. He picked up a miniscule cell phone and punched in a series of numbers. After a single ring, a soft, feminine voice answered.

“Yes sir?”

“Julie, hi,” Spike said, his accent dropping in an instant, and being replaced by an Americanized and slightly nerdy one, “Just wondering if we’re all set for my pickup in an hour?”

“Yes, sir, the helicopter is on its way right now. It should be at your location within the hour.”

“Fabulous. And Julie, did you get everything that I asked for on that helicopter?”

“Yes, of course, sir, the briefing on the new accounts and products are filed in alphabetical order and are waiting for you. Oh, the case of “M&M’s” and the blood bag are also waiting for you in the helicopter. Sir, if you don’t mind my asking, why do you need the blood?”

“Transfusion, dear. I’ve found that when I get a little under the weather, a quick blood transfusion really perks up my day. You should really try it. I’ve gotten about half of the board members to pick it up…really helps out the system, you know. Know what, Julie? I’ll have Phil fax over my study on the benefits of transfusions to you…maybe you can join the sensation?”

A thrillingly melodic laugh echoed through the phone in Spike’s crypt.

“I’ll try it, sir, though I can’t say that my boyfriend will approve.”

“And why’s that, dear? Religious thing?”

“No, no…squeamish thing. I can handle the sight of blood, but Gerry? Oy…he faints when he sees tomato soup.”

“Sounds like a real manly man you’ve got there, Julie.”

Julie laughed again in Spike’s ear, forcing a smile from his lips.

“Mr. Gates, you really are too much!”

“And don’t I know it, dear. At any rate, I’ll see you at the meeting?”

“Yes, sir. Have a good flight.”

--

**Note, italics=internal monologue.

--

Spike stood in front of Clem, decked out in a tweed suit, glasses, and a moppy brown wig. Clem sighed and shook his head.

“Spike, I still don’t know why you do this…you’ve made enough money, why not just get out now? Retire at…how old are you now?”

“Bout 150…I think…I don’t know, Clem. Doesn’t sodding matter now, does it? I like the attention this whole ‘Gates’ thing gives me. The glory. Get to see m’self plastered all over the world and no one’s the wiser.”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly say that.”

“What?”

Spike moved menacingly toward Clem, his eyes flashing yellow.

“What did you say? Huh? Something to the Slayer?”

“Nothing, nothing. Yeesh you’re jumpy. I just meant that if you’re ‘with’ Buffy,” Clem said, gesturing ‘air quotes’ to Spike, “it’s just…the Slayer’s no dummy, Spike. She’ll figure it out eventually.”

Scoffing, Spike pointed to his ensemble and make-up job that marred his chiseled features into a more rounded shape. He spoke again in his American “nerd” accent.

“You really think Buffy would suspect that Bill Gates is really the Big Bad?”

Clem shook his head.

“Well, you’re not really Bill Gates.”

“Maybe not by birth, no, but I built his sodding empire,” Spike said, reverting back to his cockney tongue, “I’m more than the real Gates could ever have hoped to be. Got a hot wife…three lovely children….”

“None of which are real.”

“Well, no, but who in the bloody hell cares? I have 70 billion dollars, mate! No one should begrudge me my trophy hologram. Well, robo-family now.”

“Robo-family?”

“Remember the Buffy-bot?”

Clem nodded, his ears flopping loudly.

“Ohhh yeah. Of course I do. She was much more pleasant than the real deal.”

“Right. Well, I figured that I might need a tangible family to go out and do my ‘dirty work’ in the sunlight since I’m indisposed.”

“Oh, of course,” Clem said, trailing off. “So…you and the ‘Melinda-bot’ are ‘intimate’?”

Spike wrinkled his face in disgust.

“God no! I’m a one-bot man. And now that she’s gone, I do have the real Buffy to fool around with.”

“Yeah. Until she finds out you’ve been lying about this thing since before she was born.”

Rolling his eyes, Spike pointed to a black suit hanging on the sarcophagus.

“Get dressed, Clemency. My poor ‘deformed’ baby brother is joining me on this trip. Helicopter should be here any minute.”

--

NOVEMBER 8, 1975

Bill Gates, a young 20-year-old computer whiz, sat hunched over his huge desktop in his mother’s garage. So encompassed in his work, he didn’t hear the footsteps coming up the driveway. A sing-songy woman’s voice broke his concentration.

“Oooh, Spike! Can I play with him now?”

Bill looked up from his work and frowned.

“Who’s there? Come in the house so I can see you.”

“With pleasure, lad. Dru, pet, let Spike take this one. There’s a whole reem of blood-filled Seattle folk waiting inside I’d wager.”

“Oh, goody! Miss Edith and I will play and their entrails will sing us delightful songs!”

Spike smiled at his dark princess as she flitted past the terrified Gates. Spike sat down in front of him, his gaze moving between Gates and the computer.

“Why don’t you tell me about your work here, mate. Been hearing you’re going to revolutionize the world with your software. I’d love to hear all about it. If you tell me, maybe Dru won’t dance around in your entrails and what-not.”

Bill’s face paled with fear, but his eyes shone in defiance.

“I can’t…it’s…it’s my life…my work is everything to me.”

Spike’s vampiric features burst onto his face as his anger escalated.

“And if you don’t start talking right now, you won’t have a life to come home to…let alone a life’s work.”

Four hours later, Drusilla helped Spike toss the Gates’ bodies into a deep pit in a dense forest. Spike placed a gentle hand against the small of her back as they walked back toward the Gates’ home.

“C’mon, love. Let’s stay the day there…sun’s almost up, yeah?”

As they entered the home, Drusilla busied herself by talking to the various bookends in the living room. She squeaked in delight when she found a veritable stockpile of porcelain dolls in a corner.

“Oh, Spike! May I keep them?”

“Of course, pet. Whatever you want.”

Smiling at her excited reaction, Spike walked into the home’s den and sat down at a desk. Picking up the phone, he dialed a familiar number.

“Hey, Clem? Yeah, it’s Spike. Yeah, I know…been a while. Question, mate. You still got the stage makeup kit? You do? Fabulous. Listen, I’ve got a proposition for you. The pay? Oh, let’s say 70-30? 60-40?! Now, Clem, that’s…no, no, fine. I understand. Sodding kids cost a bundle these days. 60-40 it is then. It’s worth it…trust me. Yeah. This’ll change the world. Right, ‘s what I said. Change the world. Can you get here today? Seattle. No, I’ll pay for your plane ticket. Good. Just take a cab once you get here. The address? Yeah…just a second….”

--

Buffy frowned at her reflection in the mirror.

Stupid Buffy…getting thrown out by a sodding vampire…wait…‘sodding?’ When the hell…stupid Spike and his bloody words…dammit! There it goes again. Buffy, you’ve really got to stop seeing him.

As Buffy tried to shake back into reality, two miniature versions of herself appeared on her shoulders; one dressed in a shining white robe accented with angel wings and a halo, the other a horned demon, wearing a red-hot leather jumpsuit and straddling her pitchfork.

“Oh man…I really don’t need this right now.”

“Buffy, dear child of light,” Angel-Buffy said as she strummed her harp, “you mustn’t fret over this. You are a wonderful, dear, girl. The Chosen One. A warrior for good…a….”

Demon-Buffy hissed at her angel counterpart.

“Horny! Horny, horny, horny! Horny Slayer,” she yelled as she grinded against the pitchfork in a very un-ladylike manner.

Angel-Buffy rolled her eyes.

“Buffy, you know what is right. You must stop seeing this Spike…he’s a bad influence on you…he’s…so…sexy…and…no! Stop looking at me like that,” Angel-Buffy yelled toward Demon-Buffy’s direction.

Buffy looked over in confusion at her mini-demon self. Somehow, Demon-Buffy had shed herself of all her leather ensemble and found a mini-Spike, whom she was having a raucous bout of sex with. Angel-Buffy turned and shielded her eyes, but continued to sneak peeks between her fingers when she was sure no one was looking. Demon-Buffy groaned in pleasure as she broke into an orgasm on Buffy’s shoulder. Mini-Spike growled and bit into her neck, sending another shockwave through her mini-body. Buffy rolled her eyes and flicked the mini-Spike off of her shoulder. Demon-Buffy pouted as she climbed back into her leather jumpsuit.

“That wasn’t very nice, Buffy. We were just getting started.”

“Well, that may be but…hey,” Buffy yelled, “why am I having a conversation with a figment of my imagination?”

Angel-Buffy and Demon-Buffy both shrugged.

“It’s your fantasy, dear one,” Angel-Buffy said.

“Yeah, stupid,” Demon-Buffy added.

Buffy sighed as she stared at their reflections in the mirror.

“So what am I supposed to do?”

Angel-Buffy flapped her angel wings and landed next to Demon-Buffy on Buffy’s left shoulder. After a brief pout, she whispered something into Demon-Buffy’s ear; Demon-Buffy then nodded and whispered back. Folding their arms and nodding in sync, Demon-Buffy and Angel-Buffy spoke to their large counterpart in unison.

“Stay with Spike.”

Buffy frowned.

“Really? Why?”

“He’s so sexy,” Demon-Buffy cooed.

“And he loves you,” Angel-Buffy added.

“And he’s sexy.”

“And he loves you.”

“SEXY!”

“LOVES HER!”

A mini-cloud of smoke erupted on Buffy’s shoulder as the mini-versions of her subconscious self broke into a catfight. Buffy shook her head and flicked them onto the ground, and then stood up, in determination.

“I know what to do.”

As she walked out of the room, she cringed when she heard two teeny voices squeal in delight.

“Oooh, Spike! A three-way? That’s so kinky!”

--

Spike closed his eyes and rested his head against the blacked-out windows in his private helicopter. The pilot turned back to glance at him, but was met instead with a scowl from a snazzy-looking Clem.

“You’d better watch the sky instead of Mr. Gates, copter guy.”

The pilot blushed and turned back around, and stared out at the sky through the darkly tinted windshield.

Boy this Gates guy sure is eclectic. No sunlight…no paparazzi…bags of blood…yecch.

When he was sure that he wasn’t being watched, Spike pulled the IV tube out of his arm and sucked down half of the bag in a few quick gulps…his first taste of human blood in far too long. Donated blood, sure, but it tasted so much better than the pig swill he was forced to sip in Sunnydale. Clem watched out of the window as the helicopter began to touch down on Microsoft’s giant building. Spike stuck the IV back in his arm as he closed his eyes again. Clem shook him lightly when the pilot turned around to announce their landing.

“We’re here Mr….”

Clem held a finger up to his mouth to quiet the pilot.

“Bill? Wake up, we’re here.”

Spike feigned slight confusion as he opened his eyes slowly. Mock yawning, he stretched out and sighed.

“Well, good then. Clemency, would you make sure that my walkway is ready? You know how Melinda is about me being in the sun.”

Clem nodded and hopped out of the helicopter. Spike chuckled at the pilot’s befuddled expression.

“Skin cancer, you know. Most of my wife’s family passed away because of it, so she makes sure that the children and I stay out of the sun as much as possible. She won’t come near me if I have even the slightest bit of a tan.”

Clem motioned to Spike as a group of workers attached the covered walkway to the helicopter, and then ran back inside. Spike half-smiled at the pilot before climbing out.

“Thank you for your services. We shouldn’t be any later than 1 PM at our meeting…here,” he said, handing the pilot a fistful of hundred dollar bills, “go catch a movie or have lunch or something on me. Just be back here by 1 o’clock. I have more business I have to deal with in Sunnydale tonight, and I don’t like being late.”

The pilot blinked in disbelief at the wad of cash in his hand. It had to be more than he made in three months at his last job. He may only be hired for the day, but he silently thanked his lucky stars that he could find something to tide his family over in their troubled times…maybe this could persuade the bank to give him an extension on his mortgage.

Maybe this Gates fellow isn’t so bad after all!

“Thank…thank you so much, sir. You have no idea what this means to my family….”

Spike nodded and raised his hand in a brief wave as he walked toward the door.

“1 PM!”

Clem sighed as he and Spike entered the elevator on the roof’s covered exit way.

“Spike, if you treat every employee like that, you’ll get taken advantage of.”

“Spike,” Spike asked motioning to the elevator’s camera.

“Sorry, Mr. Gates.”

“Thank you. Now Clemency, you know as well as I do that good help…especially discreet help, is hard to find these days. If an extra five grand will ensure someone’s loyalty, so be it. Pocket change to me, a godsend to someone like that pilot fellow. Did you happen to catch his name?”

“No, sir, I didn’t.”

“Ah. No matter,” Spike said, pulling his miniscule phone out of his coat pocket.

After a few rings, Julie picked up.

“Yes Mr. Gates? How can I help you?”

“Julie, hi. Clemency and I are in the building, I just had a quick question for you before we were sidetracked with the board meeting.”

“Sure, what do you need, sir?”

“That helicopter pilot who brought us here from Sunnydale? What’s his name?”

“Oh, dear, sir, did he do something wrong?”

“No, not at all. Quite the contrary, actually.”

“Oh, good! Thank God, I was so worried!”

“And why’s that, Julie?”

Julie laughed lightly over the phone.

“Because I hired him.”

“Ah. Well, good job then, Julie. Remind me to give you a bonus in your paycheck this week.”

Julie laughed again, and Spike winked at Clem, clearly enjoying this woman’s infatuation with his alter ego.

“Mr. Gates, you really are too much.”

“You keep saying that, dear, but you never accept my date offers!”

Spike could hear her smiling and shaking her head over the phone.

“Sir, your wife and my boyfriend wouldn’t appreciate that, you know.”

Spike laughed.

“I know, dear, and you know I’m just playing around, right? Unless of course you’ve changed your mind….”

“Mr. Gates! Really,” Julie said with a snicker.

“So you have his name then?”

“Of course, sir. It’s Frank Teller.”

“Well, be a dear and call Mr. Teller and ask him if he’d like to be a fulltime employee of mine. With how often I fly back and forth from Sunnydale and Medina, I think it was inevitable for me to hire a fulltime helicopter pilot.”

“I’ll get right on it, sir.”

“Good. Just out of curiosity, Julie, how much is your salary up to now?”

“$130,000 a year, sir.”

Spike scoffed and frowned as he and Clem walked out of the elevator and into his office. He snapped his cell phone shut as he walked over to a mahogany desk where a porcelain-skinned blonde with a vast array of wild curls sat. She stood to greet them as they entered, rolling her near-violet eyes in amusement.

“Mr. Gates, you should have told me you were this close.”

Spike chuckled and gave her two quick kisses on each cheek.

“Julie, dear, I think that bonus should really be tacked on annually…maybe an extra 25 a year?”

Julie smirked and huffed at Spike.

“Oooh, twenty-five dollars? You’re really generous Mr. Gates.”

Laughing as he walked into his office behind her, Spike shook his head.

“I swear you will be the death of me, Julie. If I make it an extra 50 thousand a year will you promise not to retire?”

Julie’s mouth dropped as she attempted to catch her breath.

“Mr. Gates! That’s…so generous of you!”

“Just don’t retire, dear. I’ve never had a secretary that was as on the ball as you are.”

“Thank you, sir! Thank you so much!”

“Sure thing, kid. Oh, and Julie?”

“Yes sir?”

“Offer that Teller fellow around $100,000 a year to start with me…if he asks for more, give it to him…just….”

“Keep it reasonable?”

“Right. Smart as a whip this one is,” he said to Clem. “Thanks Julie.”

“Anytime, sir.”

Shutting the door behind them, Spike and Clem prepared for the grueling task of chatting with 30 terribly boring board members.

--


Buffy sighed as she walked into the Magic Box. Giles, Willow, Dawn, Xander and Tara sat at a large table, while Anya stood, smiling, behind the counter. Her smile faded when Buffy walked in.

“Oh…I thought you were a customer.”

Buffy rolled her eyes.

“Thanks. Really helps to make someone feel special, Anya. You know what…?”

“Up-up-up! Shut it, Slayer girl. You’re blocking the entrance for the customers.”

Turning around and crossing her arms, Buffy stared at the door for a few moments. When no one even passed by the Magic Box, she turned and stuck her tongue out at Anya, before walking down to the table where her friends and family sat. Trying to work up the courage to speak, Buffy merely emitted a small “meep.” Giles raised his eyebrow at her.

“Buffy, are you quite alright?”

She sighed and sat down next to Dawn, laying her head on her younger sister’s shoulder.

“No, Giles…I’m not alright. I’m so far from right, I’m left.”

Giles shook his head and stared at her in confusion.

“Whatever do you mean, Buffy?”

“Yeah,” Xander said, “what could be wrong in the world of the Buffster?”

“Spike,” Buffy moaned.

Willow spit a mouthful of her tea out across the table, accidentally spraying Giles with her honey-laden Earl Grey.

“Sorry Giles.”

Tearing his glasses off in a huff, Giles muttered something under his breath. Buffy caught a few of the phrases.

“Bloody Americans…tea swilling…Boston…didn’t want it then, no…spitting bloody witch….”

“Anyway,” Buffy said with a sigh, “I think I have a problem with Spike.”

“Don’t we all,” Xander said with a chuckle.

“What kind of problem,” Anya asked, her interest piqued, “Because he owes Xander about a hundred dollars and I was going to let it slide, but someone hasn’t been keeping up on his fair share of buying his significant other gifts and other such things, and I think that is a very important part of a relationship and….”

“Anya! Please,” Buffy yelled. “It’s not about money…it’s…oh, jeez, I don’t even know how to say it.”

“Come on, Buffy, you can tell us,” Dawn said, trying to support her sister.

Buffy nodded.

“Right. Well…it’s just…Spike…Spike and I…well…I….”

“Spit it out already Buffy,” Willow squeaked.

When Giles frowned at her, Willow blushed sheepishly.

“Sorry, Giles.”

“Well,” Buffy continued, “it’s just that, Spike and I are….”

“Mortal enemies,” Xander offered.

“Both Leos,” Dawn said.

“Mooches who owe Xander money,” Anya said with a sigh.

“No! Jeez,” Buffy moaned. “Spike and I are…a thing. And I think…I think I like him. A lot. More than like.”

Tara smiled at her, and then turned to Anya.

“Pay up, sister.”

Anya pouted, but opened the cash drawer and took out a fifty-dollar bill.

“Dammit. I hate losing.”

Buffy stared in disbelief at her friends.

“Wait…what? You knew?”

Tara nodded.

“Well, Anya and I have known for a while….”

“Since the whole ‘singing’ debaucle,” Anya said.

“Yeah, and we think it’s great.”

“We were just betting on when you’d tell everyone.”

Xander was less amused than his better half.

“Buffy…why? The evil undead? Another evil undead boyfriend? Wasn’t Angel enough?”

“Hey, shut up Xander,” Anya yelled, “I used to be all demony too and Buffy didn’t give you a hard time about being with me.”

“You and I are different, Anya. We’re not the Chosen One.”

“Everyone just shut up! Please,” Giles yelled out, silencing the room. “Buffy, now I know that you wouldn’t purposefully put us in danger again, but are you sure you can trust Spike?”

“Well he is chipped and all,” Buffy said, trying to reassure her own mind. “But even without it…yeah…I think I can trust him. I think we can all trust him.”

“Right then. Where is Spike anyway?”

“I don’t know…he left last night after we,” Buffy trailed off into a murmur and blushed. “Patrolled. After we patrolled. He said he had some meeting to go to.”

“A meeting? The evil undead? What, like ‘blood-aholics anonymous,’” Xander said with a chuckle.

“You know, I’m actually not sure,” Buffy said.

A thought crossed Dawn’s mind and she pulled a notarized letter out of her backpack.

“Oh, Buffy! This letter came this afternoon. I had to sign for it and everything. It’s from the bank.”

Buffy raised her eyebrow as she opened the letter.

“Huh. Wonder what they could want…oh my God….”

The letter dropped to the floor and Buffy stumbled back in shock, plopping onto the floor. Giles ran to her side.

“Buffy? Buffy? What’s wrong?”

“They’re foreclosing on my house…on our house…Dawn…where…where are we gonna go?”

--

Holding a piece of paper in his hand, Clem stared at Spike.

“How could anyone spend $80,000 on a chair? Spike, really,” Clem tried to reason with him as he sat at his office computer.

“Clem, come on! Bill Gates sits on no less.”

“Maybe they should make the wheels out of orphan’s knees and upholster it in Thylacine leather.”

Spike perked up in mock excitement.

“Do you think they could find that?”

Clem didn’t immediately pick up on Spike’s sarcasm and rolled his eyes.

“It’s been extinct for 70 years, Spike! I don’t think,” he trailed off as Spike’s deep chuckle reached his floppy ears. “Very funny. Try and pull one over on old Clem. I’m just trying to help.”

Spike nodded and patted Clem on the back.

“Well, I’m just trying to keep up appearances, mate. Who else in the world would buy an $80,000 chair besides Bill Gates?”

“The Prince of Siam?”

“Siam? Clem, please. You know better than that.”

Clem sighed.

“Sorry. Thailand.”

“Right. Well, mate, I think the board members should be waiting for us in the conference room, don’t you?”

“Probably,” Clem said with a slight nod.

Walking briskly past Julie, Spike merely nodding to her and smiling as they passed, he and Clem entered the already full conference room. Holding back a sigh as he had to shake hands and greet everyone with a plastered on smile, Spike noticed out of the corner of his eye that Clem was in the corner, discreetly pouring a vat of blood into a coffee mug for him. The board members consisted of various stogy old men, nerdy brainiacs, and a few voluptuous women who were no doubt hired more for their beauty than their brains. As everyone found his or her seats, Spike began the meeting, his nerdy American accent taking over.

“I’m so glad to see everyone has made it in today, Lydia, I hope that new car of yours isn’t giving you any more trouble,” he said to a tall redhead with an enormous bust, “Julie did mention that you were having problems and may not make it in today.”

Lydia smiled becomingly and fluttered her eyelashes at Spike.

“No, Mr. Gates, everything worked out. Thank you so much for worrying about me.”

Spike chuckled.

“Of course, dear. I always worry about my board members, especially the breathtaking ones. There are so many big bads out there, I always worry for your safety.”

Lydia blushed and stifled a giggle.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Yes, well, Michael, I believe you wanted to start the meeting off? New news and what-not?”

When a burly older man stood up and nodded, Spike sat down in his plush seat. He could feel his mind wander as he leaned back against the wall in his unbelievably overpriced executive’s chair. Thinking of Buffy and all of their recent history helped the normally dreadful meeting to pass fairly quickly. Spike smiled when all attention was focused back on him.

“Well, I’d like to thank you all for coming today, and I for one vote that this meeting be adjourned.”

“Second,” Lydia said with a provocative glance at Spike.

“Good. Well, I will see you all again in a month.”

The goodbyes were decidedly quicker than the greetings had been, and Spike was thankful for it. He desperately wanted to get back to Sunnydale to ransack his obstinate Slayer.

If she only knew what dear old Spikey does in the daytime…huh! She’d bust a sodding gasket I’d wager.

As promised, Frank was waiting for Spike and Clem on the rooftop, helicopter ready to go. Spike climbed into the helicopter after receiving the brunt of an almost painfully thankful pilot. Clem had smiled knowingly at him and motioned to the pilot’s seat. Frank was not one to miss a hint when he saw one, and climbed in without another word. The flight back to Sunnydale seemed to last forever to Spike, who was itching to get back to Buffy. Finally landing at the edge of Restfield cemetery, Spike cleared his throat.

“Frank, would you mind turning the copter off for a bit? Sun’s almost down and I don’t want Melinda to nag me later…do you mind waiting a few minutes?”

Frank shook his head rapidly.

“No, no, of course not, Mr. Gates! Do you need me to call you a car or a limo? I don’t see one waiting….”

Spike smiled at the obviously nervous pilot.

“No, that’s quite alright, Frank…is it alright that I call you Frank?”

“Of course, sir!”

“Good. Have you ever been in Sunnydale, Frank?”

“No, sir, I can’t say that I have.”

“Well, I don’t bother with a car because it’s so very small and quaint, and I try to keep the lowest profile I can…impossible, I know, but I’ve found that many of the Sunnydale dwellers seem to be blissfully unawares of anything other than their superstitions.”

“Superstitions?”

“About vampires and demons and all that nonsense.”

Frank smiled.

“Seriously?”

“I’m afraid so. The whole town is rampant with terrorized people that refuse to go out at night.”

“Is there any…truth to the superstition? I mean, I’ve heard of a few accounts of vampires…demons too…mostly in LA, but still….”

“Frank, do you really buy into those Old Wives’ Tales?”

Frank cocked his head in thought for a moment, and then laughed.

“No, I guess not.”

“Neither do I,” Spike said as he glanced out of the window at the now darkened landscape, “Well, Frank, it has been a pleasure. I’ll have Julie call you when I need your services again, but until then, take a vacation or something…you have a family, right?”

Nodding, Frank opened his mouth to speak, but Spike cut him off.

“Here,” he said, thrusting yet another fistful of hundreds to the pilot, “Disney World is on me.”

Frank sat, dumbfounded as Spike and Clem exited the helicopter and walked off into the night. He picked up his cell phone and dialed his wife, frantically.

“Honey? It’s me…you’re never going to believe this…he…he gave me another,” Frank paused to count the bills in his hands, “Another $7,000! Susie, baby, I think things are finally looking up for us!”

Spike stared at the helicopter as it took off in the sky, and smiled to himself in satisfaction.

--

Buffy knocked lightly on the door of Spike’s crypt, and attempted to brush the tears away from her eyes before he answered. She was a millisecond too late, and Spike quickly ushered her in, grasping at her elbow, lovingly.

“Buffy? Pet, what’s wrong? Somebody hurt you? Hurt Dawn? Pet?”

Buffy simply stared ahead of herself, unable to form words. Spike scooped her up in his arms and put her down, gently, on the sarcophagus.

“You can tell me, pet. ‘s what I’m here for, yeah?”

Buffy nodded, sniffling, and finally looked him in the eye, but still was unable to form a full sentence. Spike’s brain went into overdrive as he tried to understand what she was trying to say.

“Everything is wrong with me…I can’t…my house…I…I can’t…Willow…my mom’s savings…I don’t know how…the bank…and I can’t pay…no job…supposed to be…if slaying paid, I’d…I just…I can’t….”

Large tears rolled down Buffy’s cheeks and Spike wrapped an arm around her. She sniffled and took a deep breath before she continued.

“I love you.”

--

Spike blinked and shook his head in confusion, trying to comprehend what she just told him.

“You what?”

She sniffled again and chuckled.

“That wasn’t quite the response I expected.”

Raising an eyebrow at her and surmising that she was being honest, Spike brought her forehead to his lips and placed a light kiss on her moist skin.

“Buffy, love, that’s not what you came here to tell me.”

“No, but I do…love you, I mean.”

Spike sighed as he knelt before her, taking her hands in his own.

“I…Buffy, love, you know how I feel about you, yeah?”

“Please don’t tell me you don’t love me anymore…please?”

“No, pet, of course I love you…I’ve loved you…bloody hell, I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you my first night in Sunnydale. Dru could see it…I just….”

“That’s just who I want to hear about. I tell you I’m in love with you and you talk about your loony ho-bag of an ex-girlfriend.”

“Buffy, love, that isn’t…you…I just want you to be of sound mind when you tell me you love me…something’s up, in’t, pet?”

Buffy nodded slowly, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“How’d you guess?”

“Pet, you’ve never come to me all teary-eyed and needy.”

“Do you not like me this way? Is that why…?”

Spike shook his head and kissed Buffy’s hands before standing in front of her.

“No, Buffy, it’s just that something had to be monumental for you to tell me that you need my help…does Angelus ring any bells?”

“I didn’t ask for your help with him…and, wow, now we’re bringing up my exes? This is going to be one fun conversation, I can already tell.”

Spike rolled his eyes.

“I’m not trying to piss you off, Slayer, I’m just asking what happened? Is everything all right? What can I do to help? Jeez…can’t let a guy be noble nowadays without the third degree.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s all right, pet. Just…what’s wrong? Maybe I can help….”

Buffy sighed and drew her knees to her chest.

“It’s the house…my…my home…it’s…when I died, Willow and Tara moved in, and apparently Willow thought that it would be a phenomenal idea to use all of my mom’s savings to pay off the bills….”

“Bills have to be paid, pet.”

“Yeah, but not with my mom’s money…it wasn’t…it wasn’t Willow’s place to do that.”

“I know, love, but go on.”

“Right, well…the bank…I…I got a letter today from the bank and,” she said, handing Spike the crumpled letter, “it said they’re foreclosing on it unless I can pay off the debt in a week. It’s a hundred thousand dollars in back taxes.”

“Thought you said that Red was paying the bills?”

“Yeah, well apparently her college tuition and Tara’s came before that. I don’t know how it got so high…but, yeah, I have no idea how I’m going to pay for it. It’s hard enough to buy groceries.”

Spike’s eyes sparkled in generosity.

“Let me get the money, pet.”

“What? No…I couldn’t…no,” she said resolutely.

“And why not?”

“Because…I…just because.”

“What? My money isn’t good enough for sodding Buffy?”

“No, it’s just,” Buffy trailed off as she looked around the crypt. “I just…you obviously don’t have any money or you wouldn’t be living here.”

“What? Are you…bloody…where the bloody hell else would you expect a vampire to live, pet? I’m not sodding Dracula! I don’t need much to be happy…just like to pass under the radar as it were. Doesn’t mean I’m broke. I have…plenty of money,” he said with a smirk.

“Stolen money…because I know full well that you gamble for kittens…not cash.”

Spike rolled his eyes.

“Will you please let me help you?”

“I…I can’t…I don’t know why I even came here…I…Spike, I have to go…I need to think. I’m sorry.”

Buffy stood to leave, but Spike grabbed her arm and pushed her back on the sarcophagus forcefully.

“No, you aren’t going anywhere, pet. You told me you were bloody in love with me. That…that changes things, Buffy. You can’t keep running away from me.”

“Spike, please. I promise I’ll be back…I just need to think…sleep on it, all right? Can I have a rain check on the ‘right nasty shag’?”

Sighing, Spike released Buffy from his pressing hold on her, and made a sweeping motion with his arm to the door of the crypt.

“Take all the time you need, pet. You’ll know where to find me.”

“Thank you so much, Spike.”

As Buffy walked out the door, she heard Spike’s voice mutter to himself.

“I’m a bloody pushover…bloody sodding wanker.”

“Yep you are,” she called back, “but that’s why I love you!”

Watching Buffy bound towards her home, Spike shook his head at her stubbornness. When she was out of earshot, he took his cell phone out of the sarcophagus and dialed Julie, muttering as it rang.

“If I can’t help you, pet, I know someone who can,” switching to his Americanized accent, Spike spoke into the phone. “Julie, baby, hi! Just me. Sorry to call so late, but I need a big favor to ask you, and it has to be done with the upmost secrecy. I need to update my will. Why secretive? Well, it’s Melinda…yeah. Things aren’t going so well with she and I as of late. I just don't want the press having a field day with this. You understand. Yeah, I’m afraid so. Divorce her? I can’t. Why not? She was married before she met me and never bothered with a divorce! Yeah, she’s still married! So our whole marriage? Total fraud. I should have expected it…not to bore you, but we haven’t been together in…forever. And I just found out about a few indiscretions in our past. Yeah, and get this…she tells me my kids aren’t even mine. Yeah! Go figure, right? That’s why I called, Julie. I want to change my whole will. Can you have that Frank fellow pick me up in Sunnydale right away? And come with him if you don’t mind. I need a steady hand right now. Thanks Julie. Yeah. I’ll see you in a bit, dear.”

Spike sighed as he stretched out against the sarcophagus, his true accent creeping back into his voice.

“The things I do for you, Buffy.”

--

Bursts of dust surrounded Buffy as she tried to slay the fear and confusion from her mind. A loud helicopter above helped the dust to disperse quickly throughout the cemetery.

Weird. Since when do we get nighttime helicopter rides?

When a fledgling cowered behind a gravestone in front of her, Buffy sighed.

“C’mon out. I won’t hurt you…or…I will. But…yeah…I’m not so good at this.”

Jumping to the other side of the gravestone, Buffy gasped in horror at the fledgling trying to hide from her sight and stake. She was young; five-years-old at the most when she was turned, and her shining blue eyes filled with desperation and pain. Buffy kneeled down next to her and helped her to sit up. The dirt-encrusted girl sniffled and stared into Buffy’s eyes.

“Are you going to make me all dustidy now too?”

Buffy gulped down a sob and fought to keep her composure.

“No…honey…no. When were you tur…when did you wake up like this?”

The girl’s vampiric features faded into her human visage as tears rolled down her face.

“I just woked up…they…a few days ago those men…I…I was walkin’ home with my Mommy an’ Daddy an’ the men hurt us…I…one of them bit my neck while the rest of them made Mommy an’ Daddy watch. Then they…they…Mommy and Daddy fell down…an’…there was a snappy noise…the men said they were dead an’ that they were going to be my new parents,” she trailed off as she broke into a sob. She took a deep breath and looked back up to Buffy, “The man who bit me said he wanted to help me…so he…he put me in a big hole an’ covered me with dirt after I fell asleep an’ I had to dig myself out. I was real scared, an’ I didn’t have my teddy to help me feel brave. I miss him too…but not as much as I miss my Mommy and Daddy. I feel diff’nt now. Why do I feel diff’nt?”

Streams of tears were now falling from Buffy’s eyes.

“Sweetie…I…let me help you, okay?”

“M’kay.”

“I’m Buffy, by the way. What’s your name?”

“My name is Joy…but I…I can’t ‘member my last name. Is that bad?”

Buffy shook her head and sighed.

“No, sweetie…no…it isn’t bad.”

Joy smiled.

“Good. I like your name…it’s nice.”

“Joy, you…you can’t stay here.”

“I know. You killded those guys that said they were gonna teach me to get around,” she said, before her stomach growled loudly. “Sorry…that’s icky. I’m real hungry, Buffy…can we get some McDonald’s?”

Buffy shuddered as she realized what Joy really needed.

“No, honey, we can’t get McDonald’s right now…but one of my friends lives right around here…and he…he’ll have some food that’ll hit the spot, okay?”

“M’kay.”

Hand-in-hand, they walked to Spike’s crypt. Joy pulled back slightly when Buffy opened the door.

“You aren’t gonna lock me in there, are you? Please don’t…I’ll be good…I promise…I….”

Buffy drew Joy in close and hugged her tightly.

“No, sweetie…he…my friend, Spike, lives here. He’s a lot like you…I know he’ll have something for you to eat. Okay?”

Joy smiled.

“M’kay. Thanks, Buffy. Is he your husband?”

“No…Spike? No…he’s just….”

“Your boyfriend? My Auntie Clara has a boyfriend like that…Mommy used to say she’d never get married at the weight she was going.”

Buffy was confused for a moment, but realized what Joy had meant.

“You mean the rate she was going?”

“Mmhmm. I think. I don’t know….”

“But...Spike...he...I guess he is sort of my boyfriend...I don't know...he,” Buffy sighed and shook her head. “He's a very good friend right now that I want to be my boyfriend. Does that make sense?”

“Yup. Like Auntie Clara wants her boyfriend to be her husband.”

“Right...that's Spike for you.”

“Is he nice like you?”

“Sometimes.”

“Will he like me?”

“I’m sure he will, honey. C’mon,” she said as they entered the crypt. “Spike? Hello? Spike?”

Silence answered her, and she shrugged. Moving to his refrigerator, Buffy grabbed a small bag of blood and stuffed it in her coat pocket. When she turned to Joy, she gasped. Joy’s feet were dangling out of the sarcophagus, and Joy was intently looking through its inner contents.

“Wow! Buffy, lookit! Your friend is really rich! There must be twenty dollars here,” she said in awe, climbing down and grasping a massive roll of bills in her hand. “Do you think he’d buy me a pony if he likes me? Mommy read me a bedtime story once about a pony…I really want one! I’d name him PJ an’ I’d feed him carrots an’ sugar all day!”

Buffy nodded her head, and stood, dumbstruck, staring at the roll of money she now held. When Joy tugged on her coat pocket, she jumped slightly.

“Oh, right…pony…sure, sweetie. We’ll get you a pony. But…let’s go home now, okay? Spike will come find us later, and you can have something to eat when we get there.”

“I don’t have a home, though….”

“You can stay with me until we figure something out, okay?”

“M’kay.”

Walking with a miniature vampire holding her hand, a bag of blood in her coat, and a huge roll of cash in her pocket, all Buffy could think of was Spike.

--

Spike sat next to a sleepy, yet beautiful and put-together, Julie in Frank’s helicopter. After clearing his throat, Spike spoke in his Americanized accent.

“I want to ask the two of you something…because I feel like I can trust you more than any other employees of mine…well, aside from Clemency.”

Julie’s smile fell when she noticed the sad expression in Spike’s face.

“Mr. Gates, what do you mean?”

“Well, Julie, I…it’s about my will…without Melinda and the kids,” he said, suppressing a smirk when he thought of how he had ‘destroyed’ his robo-family with the push of a button, “I want to leave my legacy…my work…to people I can trust. And I can’t imagine anyone taking care of my property than the two of you.”

“Mr. Gates…sir,” Frank said in a shaking voice, “Are you all right? I mean…nothing is wrong physically with you is there?”

“No, Frank,” Spike said with a smile, “I’m fine…for now…I just wanted to make sure I had your permission to include you in my will. I’ll understand if you don’t want the publicity of it, though…the press can really be insane.”

Julie grabbed Spike’s hand and held back tears.

“Of course, sir…whatever you want…just…just please tell me what’s troubling you! I…I want to help you…I,” Julie trailed off and tried to fight back the urge to tell him her thoughts.

I love you!

“Really, Julie, I’m all right. Melinda…I know it didn’t seem like we saw each other much, but…she…she meant quite a bit to me.”

The helicopter touched down on top of a tall office building and Frank turned back to Spike and Julie.

“We’re here, sir…do you want me to wait here for you…or?”

“No, Frank, please come in with us. I want to make sure everything is in order,” Spike grabbed a leather travel bag and hoisted it over his shoulder. “Frank? Do you know how to work a camera?”

Frank nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I’m going to do something a little…unorthodox within my will, and I want you to help me film it. Is that all right by you?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Good. Well folks, let’s go.”

Spike, Julie, and Frank walked into the small entryway that housed the building’s elevator through the deep night. Spike sighed as he patted the leather bag.

Thank God I’ve retained some of this computer nonsense. This program will make sure I take care of what’s mine.

--

With a deep sigh, Spike nodded at Frank to shut the camera off. They were seated in his office, along with Julie, and one of “Bill Gates’” top lawyers. The lawyer shook his head in confusion as he signed the documents needed to verify the video and updated will of “Bill Gates.”

Rich people are always eccentric, Herb old boy. Just remember how much he’s paying you per hour.

Herb, the lawyer, smiled as he placed the documents in his briefcase, leaving the carbon copies and signing yet an additional form to be kept in Spike’s office safe. Spike thanked Herb profusely, and Julie quickly ushered the short and stout man out to the elevators. Alone for a few moments with Frank, Spike gave in to his curiosity.

“Frank, weird question.”

“Go ahead, sir.”

“How much income did you earn last year?”

“Oh gosh, sir, I’m not sure….”

“I understand if it’s too personal a question, Frank.”

“Oh, no, no, that’s not it at all…I just,” Frank trailed off as he counted silently on his fingers. “I probably made about 32 grand last year. My wife doesn’t work, but she stays home with our kids, which is work enough, let me tell you. We do get a bit of federal aid from social security, though, because her mother lives with us…so maybe around 38 grand total?”

“How many kids do you have, Frank?”

“Five, and one on the way. You want to see their pictures? I never leave home without ‘em,” Frank said, beaming broadly as he pulled a worn leather wallet out of his pocket and flipped it open, revealing a set of pictures. “Carmen is our oldest…14 and already such a lady! She took a few babysitting jobs last year when we were really strapped…never mentioned that she knew, just left the money for her mother to find tucked away one morning. Took us a few weeks to figure out where that money came from. And this is Ruthie…Joel…Evan…and my little Samantha. She’s just as sweet as she can be, sir. And I don’t understand it, honestly. That little girl has every right to be miserable.”

“Why?”

Frank sighed and attempted, bravely, to hide his tears.

“She…she’s blind. You wouldn’t know it to look at her, really, but she can’t see anything. Breaks my heart when she asks what her Mommy looks like. I told her the other day and she said that Mommy looks like the angel who visits her at night when everything’s quiet. How do you tell a four year old she’ll never…God…I’m sorry, sir, I shouldn’t…yeah….”

“You’re a very good father, Frank. I admire that.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Spike reached into his tweed coat pocket and pulled out a white card.

“Here, this is my doctor…best in the world, though I don’t think I’ve ever really gone to see him. Tell him I sent you, we’ll see if he can find a good surgeon…they can do transplants sometimes. Not to get your hopes up, but….”

“I know, sir. Still…a little hope is better than none.”

Julie smiled as she entered the office again, gripping two cappuccinos in her hands.

“Here you boys go,” she said, handing Spike and Frank their cups. “Drink up, it’s fresh!”

Spike tried to discreetly wipe away the tears that had fallen on his cheeks.

Bloody hell, I am love’s bitch, aren’t I? Sodding Slayer…sodding Frank…sodding…dammit! I’ve gone soft. Oh yeah, William the Bloody used to be feared across the globe. The Big Bad. Now he’s weeping like a nursemaid at every little story. God…hold it together, Spike.

Spike downed his drink with gusto, and then turned his attention back to the legal documents on his desk. He reread them, assuring himself that he was doing the right thing, for Julie, Frank, himself, and above all, Buffy.

Distribution of wealth upon the passing of Mr. William Gates.

-25% of monetary accruements and all of Mr. W. Gates’ stockholdings are to be given to Mr. Clemency Gates. In addition, Mr. C. Gates is to be given his choice of any vehicles in Mr. W. Gates’ possession, and will be appointed to Mr. W. Gates’ position in his companies (including but not limited to “Microsoft,” “The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation,” and “Oprah’s Book Club”).

-12.5% of monetary accruements each to Mr. Frank Teller and Ms. Julianne Reynolds. In addition to these funds, Mr. Teller will receive Mr. Gates’ Washington estate and all of the possessions therein. Ms. Reynolds shall receive both Mr. Gates’ summer home in Maui, and his winter home in Aspen, and the possessions therein.

-The remaining 50% of monetary accruements, Mr. Gates’ homes in the Swiss Alps, Malibu, and London, and his various apartments in New York City and Paris, France, and his apartment complex in Sydney, Australia, and all of the possessions therein, will be given to the person chosen at random, whose name is revealed on the recording provided by Mr. Gates, as filmed by Mr. Teller, in the presence of Ms. Reynolds, and Herb Sandstein, at Mr. Gates’ request. Until Mr. Gates’ death, the person chosen through the Dorlean program created by Microsoft should not be notified or revealed to the public, for obvious safety issues. Because of his commitment to funding charity work, Mr. Gates took it upon himself to set up this “lottery,” as it were, hoping that the recipient would be a person in need, as so many lottery winners seem to be. Although some press coverage is unavoidable it is Mr. Gates’ wish that this person be notified in private, and their identity is kept as secret as possible. The person chosen at random to receive this percentage of Mr. Gates’ possessions and monetary accruements is a Ms. Buffy Summers, who resides at 1630 Revello Dr, in Sunnydale, CA.

Spike smiled as he congratulated himself on his genius. The Dorlean program was created a few years ago by a group of researchers at Microsoft, but thanks to some level of knowledge and computer acumen that Spike retained from eating Bill Gates, Spike discovered a small glitch in the system. Developed to be a new format for lotteries, the Dorlean program worked perfectly with numbers, but when an “unusual” name was entered twice, such as her given name, “Buffy Anne Summers,” the system would 100% of the time pick the duplicate name. He was proven correct when he filmed the “random” decision earlier with Frank in his office. There he gave a heartfelt speech about life, love, loss, and his hopes for the future. Then “Bill Gates” revealed that a group of militant communists had threatened to assassinate him. Spike had to suppress a smile as he envisioned how Gates would “die,” and thanked himself for his forward thinking of having a “Spike-bot” tucked away for just such an emergency.

--

Buffy, Dawn, and Joy sat on the couch in their home. Joy and Dawn had become fast friends, especially after Dawn had noted that she had a copy of “Spongebob Squarepants” on DVD. While Buffy and Dawn shoveled down popcorn, Joy drank warmed pig’s blood from a “Blue’s Clues” sippy cup, her face fading in and out of its vampiric features. Buffy jumped up when the phone rang and rushed to answer it, hoping it would be Giles returning her frightened call.

“Hel…hello,” she said, slightly out of breath.

“Buffy, pet? ‘s that you?”

A small smile crept across her face as she wondered how Spike got her home number.

“Yeah. Where are you, Spike?”

“I’m out, love. Listen, I don’t have but a minute to talk…pay phones you know. I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to be gone for a few days. Not a big deal, right?”

“The one time I really need you and you’re on vacation? Great, Spike! Just great! Really makes a girl happy that she told you she loves you.”

“Do you still?”

“What?”

“Love me, pet.”

“Yeah. Dammit.”

Spike chuckled.

“Good. Love you too, Slayer. Now what’s this all about you needing me? There a problem?”

“Oh yeah,” Buffy said, staring fondly at Joy. “A big one…well, she isn’t that big…but the problem around her…major big.”

“Her, love?”

“I found a little girl in the cemetery…she’s a vampire, Spike. Her parents were murdered and a group of them turned her…she’s all alone.”

Buffy could hear Spike’s concern and choked back emotion over the phone.

“How old is she?”

“She says she just turned four last month…she woke up tonight, Spike. She…she hasn’t fed yet, but I had to give her something…she was so hungry.”

“Fledges are ravenously hungry when they wake up, love. Give her pig’s blood, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Best not to give her a taste of human blood. She’ll never crave anything else.”

“Spike…is she…you know…is she going to be stuck like this forever? In a child’s body?”

“‘m not sure, pet. I’ll find out though, all right? You have my word.”

“Thank you.”

“Course, love.”

“I have to go…we’re watching ‘Spongebob’ and Joy doesn’t seem too happy with me talking now. How long will you be gone?”

“Three days at the most.”

“Good. Just in time to help me move all of my stuff into your crypt when we get evicted.”

“Love….”

“No, I’m over it. I’ll figure something out. I always do.”

“Buffy…why won’t you let me help?”

“We’ve been over this, Spike. I don’t want to talk about it again. I…just come over here right away when you get back.”

“Of course, love.”

“Good. Spike…I love you.”

“Love you too, Buffy.”

“Bye.”

“G’bye.”

Buffy cuddled up between Dawn and Joy to watch the yellow talking sponge and his semi-challenged starfish pal in rapt amusement.

--

A dozen quarters clinked in the pay phone after Spike hung up with Buffy. He dialed a very long distance number and was greeted by a perky woman’s voice.

“Mivaldi Bank of Switzerland, how may I direct your call?”

“Just checking my account balance, love.”

“Alright, I’ll direct you to that line. Hold please.”

After holding for a moment, Spike punched in a series of numbers and was greeted by an automated voice.

“Your account balance as of today is…41 billion dollars…to hear this again, press pound….”

Spike hung up before he could hear the other options, and made his way back to the office.

Dawn shuffled Joy into the kitchen as a breaking news story flashed across the television screen. The morning’s plan for watching “The Price is Right” while awaiting Spike’s call was dashed for Buffy when Bob Barker was interrupted by a violent image of Bill Gates being assassinated. Buffy stared at the screen, entranced by Gates’ sea blue eyes that she somehow recognized. As the loud shot rang out through the crowded Microsoft product unveiling ceremony, a spurt of blood came from his chest, and he fell to the floor with a thud. Buffy shook her head and turned the television off, and then joined Dawn and Joy in the kitchen. She smiled at Joy broadly, who was sitting at the table and kicking her feet back and forth while munching through a bowl of Captain Crunch doused in pig’s blood. Buffy cringed and made a silent mental note to never again consume the sugary cereal. Dawn was hardly as phased by Joy’s breakfast, and poured herself a bowl, topping it instead with skim milk. Crinkling her nose up, Buffy poured herself a safe glass of orange juice and sat down at the table.

“So, I guess someone S-H-O-T Bill Gates, Dawn.”

Dawn nodded as she shoveled the sickeningly sweet cereal into her mouth.

“Guess so.”

Joy smirked, a look Buffy instantly related to Spike.

“I can spell ya know! Not big words like…hippopotamus…but my Mommy taughted me how to spell little words!”

Buffy sighed and pet Joy’s hair.

“It sounds like she was a very good Mommy.”

“Mmhmm! I miss her, Buffy. ‘specially at night…Miss Dawn reads okay, but she doesn’t do the scary voices my Mommy did for my bedtime stories!”

Joy smiled broadly as she turned to Dawn.

“I liked when you tried though, Miss Dawn! You can read to me again tonight if you wanna!”

Nodding at the diminutive vampirette, Dawn smiled.

“Sure thing, sweetie!”

When Joy’s bright smile faded into a far-away look and a series of sniffles, Buffy smiled sadly.

“I know you miss your Mommy, Joy, our Mommy died a little while ago too, and I’ll bet that our Mommies are in heaven together.”

Joy’s face lit up, her tears forgotten.

“You really think so, Buffy?”

“I know so, sweetie. And in heaven, everything is wonderful, because when good Mommies and Daddies die, they can go there and they can just be happy.”

Joy nodded sagely as if Buffy had revealed some ancient secret to her, and then slurped up the remainder of the sugary blood from her cereal bowl.

“That’s good! But, Buffy, when is Spike gonna be home? Maybe he’ll want to read my bedtime story instead of Miss Dawn!”

Smiling again, Buffy wondered silently why Joy had taken to calling her younger sister “Miss Dawn” when she and Spike were called by their first names. She kissed Joy’s forehead with a chuckle.

“I’ll bet he’ll even do the scary voices for you, sweetie.”

Joy bit her lip, deep in thought.

“Do you think he’ll remember to bring PJ?”

“PJ?”

Joy stared at Buffy blankly.

“My pony!”

“Oh, right, right…let’s focus on the bedtime stories for now, alright honey?”

“Mkay Buffy.”


--

Spike stood smiling in the screaming crowd of people before the stage the now-“deceased” Bill Gates lay. Spike absentmindedly stroked the Gem of Amara necklace that Gates’ crack team of researchers had found in a discount herbal store in San Francisco. He had passed it off as a needed item for “one of Melinda’s collections.” Spike was proud of his ability to pass off not only a family, but also an assassination with only the aide of Warren’s robots. As the medics loaded Gates-bot onto the gurney, a tall, bald orderly sadly shook his head when he touched its wrist.

“There’s no pulse.”

Shouts rose from various people pointing officers in the direction of the killer; sometimes a burly biker, other times a short, curly-haired red head. Spike’s trademark smirk ghosted his features when he thought of the real “assailant,” a computer program hooked up to an IV bag full of blood. Well…half full. Any self-respecting vampire would have to take a swig to make sure the blood was believably warm. And ohhhh how warm it was! He was positive that the bot’s true “identity” would never be discovered as he had stipulated in his will that no autopsy or traditional burial was to be done, and his corpse was simply to be flung out into the ocean, with a cinderblock tied to its feet, from a helicopter. A memorial service would follow. Meandering his way out of the crowd, Spike climbed into his tired old black Desoto, cranked the Sex Pistols on the stereo, and drove off to join Buffy for the biggest shock of her life.


--

Before Spike could arrive, a long black limo pulled into Buffy’s driveway. A man in a dark black suit and even darker sunglasses rapped on her door. Still flustered from trying to calm down an incredibly hyper pair of sugar-crazed girls, Buffy emitted a small “Eep!” when she opened the door. The man cleared his throat.

“You Buffy Summers?”

“Yes…I mean, wait…who’s asking?”

“I’ll need to see some identification.”

Buffy handed her college ID over before she realized what she was doing.

“Hey! This is my house…buster! Shouldn’t I be asking for your ID?”

“No need, Ma’am. But I’m going to need you to come with us.”

Before she could protest, a group of seven identically dressed men shuffled her into the back of the limo and made the short trek over to Sunnydale’s only law office that hadn’t been put out of business by demon lawyers. Buffy sulked as she was led into the office and plopped down on a chair in front of Mr. Trey Birmingham, who looked almost as flustered as she felt.

“This is about my house being foreclosed on, isn’t it? Look, guys, I just need a bit of an extension…my mom recently passed away…I…I have to take care of my little sister and my…daughter alone…it’s a lot for me to handle, and I….”

The man who had knocked on her door began to tear up a bit and turned to his six identical counterparts.

“That Gates guy couldn’t have left his fortune to a more deserving dame!”

--

Spike sighed as he slammed the door of his Desoto, and then stared, dejectedly, at the billows of smoke rising from underneath the hood. He leaned on the Sunnydale sign he had driven into after swerving to avoid a deer, and shook his head.

“Bloody hell! Where’s the sodding helicopter when you need it?”

Glancing up at the setting sun, Spike rubbed the Gem of Amara necklace that still rested on his chest.

Probably need to hide this sodding thing before the Slayer tosses it over to the bloody Poofter. Again.

Shoulders slumped slightly forward; Spike began the long trek to Buffy’s side.

--

Buffy blinked in complete confusion.

“Wait…what now?”

Mr. Birmingham, the lawyer, nodded.

“Yes, Miss Summers, it’s all very true. For whatever reason, Mr. Gates decided to leave the bulk of his estate to someone pulled at random through a computer program he created. I’ve always said the richest people are the craziest. But…yes, well apparently you’ve won the biggest lottery ever…if you’d like to call it that.”

“So…wait…huh?”

“Miss Summers, you’re a billionaire. A multi-billionaire. A multi, multi….”

“I think she gets it, bud,” one of the suited guys said.

Buffy’s eyes teared up slightly and she sniffled.

“So…I’m not getting kicked out of my house then?”

Mr. Birmingham smiled slightly.

“Well, I’ll take care of that for you right away. Once we get your bank information we can deposit those funds…it might take a while to clear, for obvious reasons, but once I talk to them they should understand your little…situation. Honestly, Miss Summers, I am very good with money, and if you’ll let me, I can set up a financial portfolio for you so you never have to worry about this again, for a nominal fee of course.”

“Of course,” Buffy trailed off, too overwhelmed to really understand what he was telling her.

“If it’s alright with you, mate, I’ll be going over everything you set up for the Slay…for Miss Summers before she signs a thing,” Spike said as he sauntered into the room.

The suited men moved menacingly towards him until Buffy cleared her throat.

“No, fellas, please, this is my…my boyfriend…Spi…William.”

Spike grinned widely as he caught the jealous stares the suited guys shot him. After plastering a wet kiss on Buffy’s lips, he sat down next to her.

“Pet, do you mind if he goes over the paperwork with me? Want to make sure no one is trying to take advantage of you….”

Buffy nodded silently and a hint of a smile crept onto her lips. She felt relieved to finally have someone look out for her.

“Please.”

Flipping through the paperwork the lawyer handed him, Spike sucked on his teeth and sighed.

“’s a good thing that I came along, pet. Seems like your lawyer friend is trying to pull one over on you.”

A half an hour later, after many apologies from a shaking Mr. Birmingham, Buffy and Spike walked out of the office, hand in hand, content in the fact that the money she had come into was secure. A broad smile overtook Spike’s lips as he glanced at Buffy. She raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing, Slayer.”

“No…something….”

“Just a spec of odd to have you calling me your boyfriend and grabbing my hand not long after we were mortal enemies.”

Buffy scoffed, but held Spike’s hand tightly in her own.

“You were never my mortal enemy, Spike.”

“Course I was!”

“Nu-uh!”

“Yuh-huh!”

“You’re delusional.”

“And you love me.”

“Then I guess I’m delusional too,” she said with a laugh.

Spike stopped suddenly and pulled Buffy close to himself, and kissed her roughly, biting her lip as he drew back. Buffy’s eyes fluttered open and she stared at him.

“I must be dreaming.”

“And why’s that, pet? Amazed you can land a catch like me?”

Ignoring his comment and allowing the tears built up in her eyes to roll down her cheek, Buffy sighed.

“It’s just…everything…it’s weird. This whole Bill Gates thing…and…loving you…and finding Joy? It’s all…good.”

“Then why the tears, Buffy?”

She wiped the few drops off of her cheek and forced a smile.

“What am I going to do if…well, when, knowing my luck, everything falls apart?”

Spike shook his head and wrapped his arms around her.

“Pet, I promise you that as long as I’m alive…well…undead, or whatever, nothing will happen to you, the Nibblet, or Joy. Which reminds me, when am I going to meet the little one?”

“Well,” Buffy said as she walked up to her door, “You don’t quite have the pony she was expecting, but I guess now is as good a time as any.”

As soon as Buffy and Spike entered her home, they were assaulted by the high-pitched squeals of the two younger girls. Joy shrieked in delight when she head the door shut and bolted into Buffy’s arms.

“Buuffffffffffffffffffyy’s home, Miss Dawn!”

After enveloping the Slayer in as big of a hug as her tiny arms could muster, Joy stepped back and eyeballed Spike.

“Buffy? Why did you bring Billy with you? Miss Dawn said that he got hurted real bad earlier today and had to go up to heaven like my Mommy and Daddy did.”

Buffy raised her eyebrow at Joy and squatted down next to her.

“Joy, sweetie, what do you mean? This is Spike, not Bill Gates…but, since you mentioned him, Dawnie, I have some really weird news for you.”

“Oh great,” Dawn said off-handedly, “Some new demon or something is going to take over Microsoft and we have to stop him? Count me out. We’re playing Twister.”

“No, Dawn, seriously…this is big…bigger than big. You know how he, um, passed away earlier today?”

“Yeah….”

“Well, he was really eccentric and left a bunch of his estate set up to go to a random person through a sort of geek-lottery.”

Spike scoffed.

“Bill Gates was not that much of a geek, Slayer. He was a very smart man, so you shut your gob.”

“Wow. Someone’s testy,” Dawn laughed.

“Right,” Buffy continued, “Anyway, I guess we sort of…won...we’re rich, Dawn. Like, multi-billion rich.”

Dawn rolled her eyes and grabbed Joy’s hand.

“Yeah, sure, Buffy. And Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny are setting up an IRA for you too.”

Joy bit her lip.

“Who’s Ira, Miss Dawn? Is that the lady who you’re buying my PJ from?”

“No, it’s no one, honey, now come on, it’s Twister time!”

Before Dawn could leave the room, Buffy held up her phone.

“You don’t believe me? Call the bank. Check my balance. The lawyer we talked to got about an eighth of the money put in there automatically and helped me pay off our house and the rest of the debt we had built up.”

Dawn raised her eyebrow, but dialed the phone number anyway.


--

A cold blast of water drew a wakening cough from Dawn's throat. Blinking a few times to take in her surroundings, she quickly sat up and stared at Buffy in disbelief.

"You're serious here, Buffy?"

Buffy nodded.

"Like a heart attack."


Joy beamed as she plopped down on the floor next to Dawn, nimbly attempting to stay clear of the shallow puddle of water that surrounded her.

"We should have Billy buy you a pony too, Miss Dawn," she said, smiling up at Spike, "He can call 'em on his cool cell phone and ask the horse farm to have our ponies ready!"

Joy reached into her pocket and pulled out Spike's tiny, Microsoft logo-emblazoned, cell phone, and a pair of wide glasses. She handed them to him with a big smile.

"I saw you drop 'em when we were trying to help Miss Dawn! You look diff'rnt right now, Billy, maybe if you put your glasses back on it'll help!"

Buffy grabbed the phone and the glasses from his hands. She shot Spike a discerning look, staring at him for a few moments before gasping.

"Spike...where did you get this phone? And the glasses? Spike...you...are you...were you...er...are....er...were...Bill Gates?"

Spike sighed and leaned back on the couch, covering his face with his hands. He was silent for a brief moment, and then caught Buffy's gaze.

"Pet, you know who I am really. Probably more than anyone I've ever known...even Dru. What do you think?"

Buffy bit her lip and sighed.

"I don't know...I know I love you...but...the cell phone, the "assassination," and the dorky glasses? Spike...just...just tell me the truth. Please."

"I took over his life, pet."

"Wait...what?"

Grasping her hand in his own, Spike pulled Buffy to rest upon the couch, fully aware of the attention Dawn and Joy were paying them.

"Pet, I was the Big Bad, right?"

Buffy laughed.

"Yeah. Terrifying."

Spike scoffed and dropped her hand.

"Oi! Now, watch your mouth, Slayer. I killed two of your kind in my day, and I...."

"Had to walk fifteen miles through the snow to do so?"

"Buffy."

"Sorry. Please, continue Bill...."

"Right then. Anyway, I was the Big Bad...still am, mind you, I just don't want to right now. But Dru and I were in Seattle and we found this Gates guy...."

Half an hour later, Buffy sat, hands crossed on her lap, pondering the situation.

"Well then...I guess you'll have some good tips on how to use this money, won't you?"

A wide grin grew across Spike's face.

"You aren't mad, pet?"

"About you keeping something this big from me? I'm kind of irritated...but it's nice to be taken care of for once. I mean, since our mom died, Dawnie and I have had to fend for ourselves. And now with Joy...I appreciate why you did this, Spike. You're a good man."

Spike beamed with pride at this statement, and hoisted Buffy up in one smooth motion.

"Dawn, take Joy outside to play," he said, tossing a smaller version of his necklace to her.

"Make sure she wears that...it'll keep her safe in the sunlight. The two of you can figure out where we're going to put your sodding ponies."

Joy squealed in delight and Dawn barely draped the necklace around the tiny vampire's neck before she bolted out of the back door and began measuring, in steps as large as her little legs could muster, the length of space that PJ would need. Spike carried Buffy quickly up to her bedroom, locking the door behind them. Buffy glanced out of the window; double checking Joy's safety.

"What was in that necklace you gave Joy?"

"That Gem of Amara ring you so willingly gave to the Poofter wasn't the only one of its kind. I chipped off a piece of my necklace as soon as you told me about the little one getting turned. Shouldn't happen. She needs to be able to at least reach puberty before being locked forever...isn't how things are supposed to be done."

"Do you think there's anything we can do?"

"I don't know, pet. I would have researched it more closely at the office, but I had an assassination to plan, you know."

Buffy smiled softly and caressed Spike's face with an outstretched hand.

"You are not the Big Bad, Spike. You're a Big Softy."

Spike frowned.

"Least I'm not a brooding ponce."

"That's true."

"Buffy, love, can we have a chat?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"I want to make sure that you're in this for real...I don't want you to be with me because you feel obligated because of the money...that's why I went to the trouble of the assassination...I didn't want you to find out. That bloody girl has a hell of an eye."

"Spike...I wanted you before you gave me anything. I want you even more now, but the only reason for that is because I've seen your kindness. I was always afraid that you'd get sick of me and turn on me if I let you in...the way Angel did. He ran away as soon as everything got tough. But you're the opposite, Spike. You're...you're the one, Spike."

At this statement, Spike's animalistic instincts took over his worry about Buffy's comfort. Without asking for her assent, Spike ripped Buffy's soft, cotton t-shirt from her frame, and unbuttoned the short denim skirt, allowing it to fall to the floor. Buffy opened her mouth to speak, but Spike covered her mouth with his own, his tongue slipping nimbly around hers. Pushing Buffy back onto her bed, Spike climbed on top of her, rubbing his encased manhood between the softness of her long legs. Buffy pulled his shirt up over his head, as Spike freed himself from the constraints of his dark jeans. Too caught up in the heat of the moment, Spike merely pushed Buffy's panties to the side of her entrance before thrusting into her soaking wetness. A decided warmth came over the two of them almost instantly, and they locked eyes, unable to look away, until a soft voice within each of their minds begged them to do the same thing. Spike released his vampiric features, and pierced his teeth into Buffy's soft neck.

"Mine!"

"Yours!"

Buffy's blunt teeth nicked Spike's throat, and the tinny taste crept over her tongue, and she rolled her eyes back in her head.

"Mine," she cried, hoarsely.

"Yours," Spike assented, as Buffy had only seconds before.

A strange haze washed over the pair, and they saw, in brief flashes, each other's past. When Buffy regained full consciousness, she stared into Spike's cool blue eyes, trying to search for his own mind to fully return. Spike was fraught with guilt at his violent history, knowing that through their claim, Buffy would have seen his sordid past, as he had just seen her short life flash before his eyes. But, something in Buffy's loving stare brought Spike back from the brink of insanity.

"Buffy...do you know what we just did?"

"You made me yours...and I made you mine."

"It's called claiming, love."

"Like marriage, right?"

"Sort of...it's an eternal bond."

"Ah. I won't live for an eternity, though."

"Now you will, love...you aren't quite human now...."

"That's nothing new."

Spike laughed as Buffy laid her head gently on his chest.

"You sure you're alright with this, love?"

"It's too late to do anything about it, right?"

"I don't know, Buffy, I..."

"I'm kidding. Geez, Spike...have a little self-confidence. I wouldn't have done that if I didn't want to. I love you...you've always been there for me...and I'm ready. That's enough for me."

"'s enough for me too then, pet."

--

~Five Years Later~

Buffy yawned as she stretched out on the king size bed she and Spike had shared for half of a decade. Turning to her side, she frowned when she noticed that Spike's half of the bed was vacant. Her frown quickly faded into a grin when she heard the clamor coming from downstairs. She slowly rose from their bed, taking care not to overextend herself. She sighed as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her face hadn't aged a day since she and Spike had claimed each other, as promised. Most of her body too, was unchanged. But her stomach...now there was another story.

Her sometimes-present miniature friends joined her in gazing at her reflection: Angel-Buffy looked akin to the Virgin Mary, glowing with prenatal joy. Devil-Buffy, however, had apparently just dyed her hair purple, and wore a short leather mini skirt and a belly-baring tube top that read "I'm Not Fat, I'm Just Knocked Up!" Devil-Buffy scoffed at Buffy's reflection.

"Jesus you've gotten fat! Just because you're knocked up doesn't mean you can't go for a jog every now and then, tubby!"

Angel-Buffy fluttered her wings in agitation.

"Do not listen to her, dear one! You look lovely! Radiant!"

"Fat," Buffy sighed.

"Well, we all have to pay the price for all of the hot sex with Spikey," Devil-Buffy offered.

Buffy nodded.

"Yeah, I guess so."

A coy smile crossed Angel-Buffy's lips.

"It is worth it, methinks."

The miniature Spike appeared in a flash of cigarette smoke next to Devil-Buffy.

"Course it is, loves. Now, Buffy, if you'd kindly go back to reality I can get to servicing these other two in peace."

Shaking her head until the mini-apparitions vanished, Buffy finally stared only at her own reflection in the mirror.

"Peace...yeah, that would be nice for a change."

Buffy walked with a slight smile downstairs into the boisterous living room. Spike was seated on the couch, holding a Twister spinner in his lap, and laughing at the pair of girls trying, in vain, to reach their arms over to the assigned circle. Dawn had finally turned into a full-fledged woman now, outgrowing her somewhat awkward teenage years. Her companion for this bendy-trendy board game of sorts was a pale, but radiantly happy 10-year-old girl, whose shining blue eyes sparkled in delight when Buffy entered the room.

"Buffffffy's up, Miss Dawn," the girl cried before sending herself and Dawn toppling over in a heap.

Dawn sighed and brushed herself off before standing up.

"Great. I was gonna win too. Thanks a lot Buffy."

Buffy shook her head and plopped down next to Spike on the couch.

"I swear, the two of you are so loud. Joy, sweetie, how are you feeling today?"

Joy smiled and climbed up next to Buffy on the couch.

"I feel okay, Buffy! Miss Dawn says I'm getting really tall!"

"That you are poppet," Spike said, smiling over at Joy.

"Yup. And Giles thinks that when I stop growing up that I'll be as tall as a model!"

Buffy laughed at kissed Joy on the top of her head.

"I bet you will, sweetie. Then you can reach stuff for me."

"And the baby!"

"Probably. But when you're all grown up, the baby won't need as much help. He'll be about eight, won't he?"

Joy nodded.

"Yup! Cause today is my birthday!"

Buffy gasped in mock-surprise.

"No...really? Oh dear, Spike, I knew there was something we forgot today!"

Spike flashed Buffy a coy smile.

"Oh, darn it, Slayer. Well, Joy, let's go over to the gas station and get you a pack of gum or something, 's that okay?"

Joy crossed her arms and pouted, rendering herself a caricature of Buffy.

"You guys aren't funny. It's my birthday and...."

Joy trailed off when Spike drew the curtains back and pointed her to look into the backyard. Her pony, PJ, now a full-grown black horse with a white star on his forehead, was standing next to a small, completely white foal. Joy squealed in delight as she looked back at Buffy, on whose lap now appeared a large present. Buffy smiled.

"Open it. It's something for all three of you."

Joy ripped the pink wrapping paper from the gift, and gasped when she pulled a pink riding outfit from the package.

"Thank you, Buffy!"

"There are matching coats for PJ and the foal in the stable too, sweetie. But it wasn't all my idea," Buffy said nodding at Spike.

Joy giggled in happiness and ran over to Spike, enveloping him in a giant hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

With a flash of shining hair and giggles, she was gone, dancing around the backyard and sizing up her new pony. Dawn soon followed her, still enticed by the idea of ponies, even at her age. Spike shook his head and joined Buffy back on the couch.

"You know, pet, we can't keep buying ponies for her. We're going to run out of room."
Buffy smiled.

"Spike, we can just buy more room."

"And where are we going to put said room, pet? Not that I mind, I understand why you want to stay in your mum's house, but we can't keep buying neighbor's houses and knocking 'em down for pony room. Joy's not going to have any children to play with, and ponies don't make for great conversationalists."

"But it makes her so happy...one more can't hurt, right?"

"Ah, so you've decided not to make this the only little addition to our family," he asked, rubbing her belly.

"The thought may have crossed my mind."

"They say getting the first one is the hardest, you know. And when it was supposed to be impossible...I think we owe it to the world to fill it with our impossible little ones, Slayer."

"Anything that's half of you would have to be impossible."

Spike smiled and wrapped his arm around Buffy.

"I do love you, you daft bint."

--
THE END!



~~Challenge from BSV~~
Challenge: 252
Name: Mr. Chaos
Email: defender2222@yahoo.com
Season: Season 5

Revelations of the Surprising Kind

We all think we know the characters of the buffyverse. But do we know them really? What if some of them aren’t what they seem?

In this challenge, you have to select one character from the show, preferable Buffy or Spike (but can be anyone or more then one person) and have them reveal that they aren’t who we thought they are. This revelation causing shock in the group, and also helps bring Spike and Buffy together at the end.

Must Have

1) The secret should be humorous somewhat. The more crazy, the better. For example, Buffy reveals that she is infact Mrs. Buttersworth.
2) You must explain how the character hid their true identity without magic. For example, let’s say Buffy reveals she’s really Mrs. Buttersworth. You must explain how she changed her looks without the aid of magic. Make it far fetched and out of left field.
3) If Buffy or Spike is the one with the secret, the revelation should cause the other to come to them and admit their feelings. For example, if Buffy is Mrs. Buttersworth, Spike should tell her that it’s ok to be a syrup bottle.

Can have

1) Xander freaking out
2) Riley or Angel bashing
3) Anya admitting that she knew the secret all along and that being _____ means better orgasms.