I want you

Did you mean to tell me but seem to forget?

I want you

Since when were you so generous and inarticulate

Elvis Costello, "I want you"

Splat! the egg hit the kitchen floor.

"Mom," Buffy said, and hesitated. She wasn't sure what she wanted to say. Here she was trapped in a afterschool special "Mom's Problem" and noone had bothered to give her a script. Summer had Sunnydale well and truly in its grip. The heat made Buffy logy, between it and fighting evil into the wee hours, it was all she could do to drag herself out of bed by 9:00. Her mom was usually long gone to the gallery by then, and half the time she didn't come home until after Buffy had gone out on patrol. So she was a little surprised this morning to hear sounds coming from the kitchen.

"Um. Yes dear." Joyce said taking another egg from the refrigerator.

"Is everything alright?"

"Oh damn!" Joyce complained as another egg slipped from her fingers and hit the floor. "Sorry dear, what did you ask me?"

"Is everything alright. You seem kinda..." Wiggy, insane.... "Nervous. And since I got back last week, we've barely talked to each other." Also you never look at me anymore when we talk. Kinda how I used to do you, she admitted to herself silently.

"Oh." She looked away from her daughter, concentrating on the difficult task of cracking another egg into the bowl. "Yes Buffy, everything's fine."

Yeah, right Mom. So how come the garbage clinks when I wheel it down to the curb?

"Are you sure Mom? Maybe you should get out more. Maybe you and Giles could..." She stopped herself. The morning sunlight seemed to highlight the lines in her mother's face as she shook her head sadly.

"Me and Giles? You want me and Giles to get together, oh Buffy. Not that again."

"Sorry. Forget I brought it up."

"Buffy, I'm fine, really. Now, do you want your eggs scrambled, or over easy?"

"Mom, sorry, I gotta go." Buffy kissed her mother on the cheek.

"Goodbye dear." Joyce waited until she heard the front door slam before dumping the eggs down the disposal. She just didn't have much appetite these days. She went into the living room and lay down on the couch.

****

Alexander Lavelle Harris high school graduate, was the epitome of cool: cruising the streets with the top down, beautiful girl at his side. Well, O.K., the convertible was his Uncle Sid's (currently out of town for 2 to 5 years) 1980 VW Rabbit, the girl was Willow who was so not his, and the streets were Sunnydale streets, but hey, it'd do.

"I really like this," Willow said leaning back against the seat to look up at the passing stars as they drove towards Buffy's house. Buffy had used her handy-dandy new cell phone to call Willow from City Cemetery #16. She'd run into an unexpected concentration of vamps and needed her reserve bag. Willow had called Xander for a ride since Oz was in Portland with the Dingoes.

"And here we are," Xander said. "Do you want to go in?"

Willow glanced over at him guiltily. "Uh, no, you go ahead. The bag's under her bed." Xander nodded, Willow didn't know how to deal with Mrs. Summers since she'd become slightly strange. Didn't bother him (much) he was used to it.

Xander knocked on the door. No response. That was funny, Buffy had been sure her mom would be home, and he'd seen her car parked in the driveway. He tried the doorbell. Nothing. Maybe she'd fallen asleep in front of the TV like his own mom did, hopefully without the help of a fifth of plain wrap vodka. He considered walking away, but Buffy really wanted that spare bag. Feeling definitely weird, he leaned sideways to peer through the partially open drapes covering the large picture window.

Oh fuck.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing: Mrs. Summers, Buffy's mom sitting on the couch with her robe hanging open. Her eyes were closed but in the shifting light of the TV Xander thought he could make out a little half-smile on her face. The man kneeling before her, his hands, his mouth on her breasts was blond. Very blond. Wearing leather. Spike. Spike and Buffy's mom. His brain kept trying to reject it, **everything I tell you is a lie....this is a lie**. Spike and Buffy's mom.

He must have made some noise, because suddenly Spike's head jerked up and looked toward the window. There was blood on his lips. Buffy's mom! Spike's face shifted as he jumped to his feet.

"Shit!" Xander ran for the car. He heard a door slam open behind him and Willow screamed. He had his hand out for the handle when he was grabbed and spun around to face Spike. Spike blocked his wild punch and lifted him by the throat.

"So now you're a peeper," Spike snarled. "I'll be doing the world a favor." He pulled Xander close, ignoring his struggles, and sank his teeth into the boy's throat. Xander shouted at the pain and tried to fight, but he could feel his life draining away.

Suddenly Spike staggered and let Xander go. He fell to the grass too weak to move and lay there as Spike faced his attacker - Joyce. She held a fireplace poker cocked like a batter on home plate, ready to whack him again.

Spike crouched and stared at her, amazed. Then he gave a short laugh and shook off his bestial appearance. "Second time you've done that."

"You promised!" She hissed.

"You're right. But it's time for a new deal." Xander never even saw Spike move as he punched her in the stomach and Spike snatched the poker away from her as she doubled over. He turned and stepped towards Xander, lifting the poker.

Spike screamed as an arrow sank into his chest and emerged from his back. It had missed his heart by a mile but it still hurt like hell. He wheeled in the direction of this latest attack.

Willow stood next to Xander's car, hastily reloading the crossbow. Spike wanted desperately to rip that red hair out by its roots, to tear her head off and toss it into the street. But he hadn't gotten to be nearly over a century old by being a complete fool. And he had other concerns. Lights were coming on in the surrounding houses. Kicking Xander viciously in the ribs in passing he turned and snatched Joyce up from the ground, threw her over his good shoulder and ran. This time the arrow hit him in the leg. He fell, and dropped Joyce, he was surprised to see her try to scramble away from him. He went to retrieve her and flinched as an arrow zinged past his head. Damn, the redhead was good. Joyce was still grimly moving away from him.

"Luv. Let's go," He pleaded. She lifted her head and looked at him and he realized that mother and daughter shared more than simply a physical resemblance. If looks could kill he'd be drifting on the breeze. Spike yanked the arrow out of his leg and ran away.

"Xander!" Willow dropped to her knees beside him. "Are you OK that was Spike what was he doing here! Buffy said he wasn't coming back..."

"Willow. I'm O.K." he lied. He worked himself into a sitting position and looked over to where Mrs. Summers had managed to drag herself into a sitting position. Her robe gaped and he looked away hastily.

"Help her," he told Willow. "We've got to get out of here."

 

END Part 6