Impressionable Sorrows
by DawnBTVS
Part VIII: Opening Up
[reviews]
Buffy, Dawn, and I were seated on the couch. Joyce was standing in front of us wearing a black evening gown with large flowers on it. She was spinning around, showing it off, and asking us our opinions.
"Can you spin around again?" Buffy asks. Joyce does, and I have to visibly lower my head to hide my laughter. Joyce catches me.
"Hey," she says, giving us an amused glare. Dawn and Buffy burst out laughing. I just smile.
"It was fun though, wasn't it?" I ask. Joyce just rolls her eyes.
"So, who's the guy and can we kill him?" asks Buffy, a smirk on her face. Joyce just glares at her.
"We met at the Gallery, a few days ago. You know, getting back into the swing of things. We talked, and he seems okay," Joyce replies.
"Remember Ted?" Buffy says, as Joyce sighs. Clearly she's not going to win whatever argument's going on. I'm not sure exactly what the argument is, either. It seems like Dawn doesn't understand too.
"Ted was...a mistake. Does the dress make me look mom-ish?" Joyce asks, holding the gown out.
"Not at all. Instead, it screams randy sex kitten. I'd certainly wear it. Although, that might not be the best idea in the world," I finish lamely, catching Buffy's look of shock, and horror. I grin guiltily. Joyce just smiles.
"What time is it?" She asks, suddenly worried. I glance at Buffy who looks at her watch.
"It's 4:23 PM. You have vast acres of time until seven, Mom. You could plant crops, tend to the cows, and paint the barn in that span of time," Buffy remarks. I snicker as Joyce glares at her again.
~~~BTVS~~~
I lean back in the chair. I'm in the Magic Box, watching Ms. Kitty Fantastico wander around on the table. Tara's reading, but she's seated on the steps leading to the second floor. Giles is helping customers while Anya mans the cash register. I hear the door open in the back, and tilt my head to see who it is. It's Spike, looking cool, as he always does. He grins, and gives me a curt nod. He walks up, pulls a chair out, swings it around so the back's facing me, and sits straddling it.
"I recognize you, don't I love?" he asks, curiosity in his eyes, but smirking all the same. I give him my sexiest grin.
"Remember Buffy wanting to jump your undead bones? That was me," I reply, nonchalant. I can be pretty cool too, when I want to be, which is pretty much all the time. What can I say? I'm just better than everybody.
"Really? How was your time with The Council?" he asks. I arch an eyebrow, surprised the guy knows. "Word travels fast in Sunnydale," he replies casually. I nod my head.
"It was full of violence. The usual. I'd think you would want to kill us," I remark, knowing this is somewhat of an odd conversation.
"Got a chip in my brain. I can still hurt demons though, so it's not all bad," Spike replies, pulling out a cigarette. He begins to light it when Giles yells at him. Spike rolls his eyes, takes his cigarette out, and grinds it on the floor.
"Giles doesn't like smoking. I almost torched the place when I lit one up. I think he's buried it deep in his brain, since he doesn't bring it up at all," I reply, gazing at the British Watcher. He's busy helping a brunette with some books.
"Well, the old bastard does seem to be a bit fanatical about his new dig. It's a nice setup though. If I never need anything, I can just come right here," Spike adds, smirking to himself. I chuckle.
"Joyce got released. Surgery was said to have gone well," I remark, trying to keep the conversation going I guess. It was nice to talk to somebody, other than a member of the gang. Spike actually cracks a genuine smile at the news.
"Good for her. Joyce's good, treated me like a man you know? Don't tell Buffy that though. I want her to continue hating my guts. Makes my life fun. If she knew that I fancied her mother, it'd take all of my mystique away," Spike says, sheepishly. I feel my eyes widen.
"You want to..." I say, but can't finish. I think Spike gets my meaning though, as he nearly falls off his chair.
"Bloody...no! She's...how could you think that? She's nice to me, alright? She doesn't treat me like a freak like everybody else," Spike growls. I lower my eyes to the table, feeling a little embarrassed at the turn of our conversation. "So love, what's your backstory? Where'd you come from, your home life, stuff like that..." Spike says, interested. Fuck. I don't like talking about myself to others. It brings up too many bad memories.
"It's boring. Wouldn't interest you at all," I reply, trying to cut if off before it can really take flight. Spike just leans forward, not ready to give up.
"Come on. You scared?" he asks, a smirk now aimed at me. I purse my lips, calming myself down.
"No...I just don't think you're the one I want to confide in," I snap back. He giggles at that.
"Fire, passion. Let me take a wild stab then shall I? You grew up in a broken home, parents didn't like ya, you were chosen, all alone, same old bit that everybody spews forth, but in your case it rings true no?" Spike finishes. I just sit there, and stay quiet. Spike can tell he's nailed me, and that scares the shit out of me. I let out a sigh, but he just keeps quiet. He's waiting for me. How the fuck did I get into this?
"My mother took up drinking when I was three. My father left me when I was eight, not even. I still had a week to go until my eighth birthday. I left home at thirteen, and lived in a soup kitchen. It was square in Boston, run down, and shoddy, but it was home. I got called a year later. I was walking around at night, vamp attacked me, and I killed him. I knew I was different then. I got a Watcher, saw her get killed by Kakistos, and fled. I wound up here in Sunnydale. I don't need to continue," I say, my hands gripping each other tightly. My eyes are boring through the table. It felt good to release that, but I'm still pissed at myself for opening up like that. I lift my eyes.
"Nice story," Spike remarks, neutral. I glare.
"Fuck off then," I snarl. He grins, but it disappears. He looks like he pities me now. "Don't fucking pity me either," I snap. He sighs, and rolls his eyes at me. He stands up now.
"Wasn't pitying, Faith. As a matter of fact, I was thinking how tough you had it. A girl like you, shouldn't have to live through that shit," he comments, before walking off. He opens the door in the back and is gone. I lower my head onto my arms. I groan. Way to run him off too, Faith. Ms. Kitty Fantastico nudges my head with her nose. I lift my head, and grin at her.
"You'll never inquire about my personal life will you? No...you'll just observe me, in your own, cute way. You accept me for who I am, yeah?" I ask, smiling despite myself. I lift her up in my hands as she paws at my nose. It's nice to have at least somebody who doesn't judge you by appearance.