Joyce looked up from her third check through her bag to see Spike leafing through a brochure he'd picked up from the dining room table. "Oh, that!" She tried not to sound too casual. "Just some information I picked up for Buffy. I can't find my makeup kit. I wonder if I packed it in my other suitcase with my toiletries?" Spike reached around to pick up something from the chair next to her, taking the time for a quick pat on the butt as he did. "Oh, thank you!" Joyce kissed him and stowed the makeup kit away in her largest bag. "I think I have everything--" "I'm sure you do. Clothes, make-up, Machiavellian plans..." "What do you mean?" She opened her eyes wide. "What's Machiavellian about a weekend in Las Vegas? I just want to relax, play the slot machines, have some nice meals, maybe do some dancing--" "Horizontally as well as vertically, I hope." He pulled her close with one arm, but still waved the brochure in his other hand. "I'm talking about these plans, and you know it, love." She looked away and fussed with her purse. "Well, you know Buffy still hasn't picked out a major, and she has no real post-graduation plans. I thought that since she's dating a military man, she might want to look into it herself. Dual-career military, I think it's called. It would give them some of the same interests, and maybe bring them closer together." "Yeah, I've observed how well you've been fostering closeness between those two." Spike was using his sarcastic voice. "Has the Slayer seen these yet?" "Just this afternoon." Still unwilling to admit to ulterior motives, Joyce sighed dramatically. "She wasn't thrilled. But I suggested she talk it over with Riley, to see what he thought. After all, they have to address the issue of his career and how long he's going to stay in the military at some point." "So you sent your little girl off to have a chat with GI Joe about whether he'd rather put on civies or send her to boot camp?" "Well, sort of." Joyce was starting to feel embarrassed and a little defensive, which was silly. "If Buffy is planning a long-range relationship, she needs to understand all the implications. Riley is a perfectly nice boy, but there's no denying he has attitudes and tastes that don't exactly match hers. As her mother, I have a perfect right to call those to her attention so that she can make a reasoned and adult choice. I've just been trying to do it tactfully." "Like when you mentioned the car show was in town? And the gun show? And let's not forget all those newspapers left around, folded just so. Never even heard a political discussion in this house until last month, and lately it's been like walking onto the set of The O'Reilly Factor." He grinned. "And don't think I haven't noticed that even the Cosmo quizzes have been carefully selected." "Really, Spike, how could I--" "The last issue you dropped open on the coffee table was three years old. How many garage sales did you have to visit before you found the one on 'Are you in love or forcing it?'" "I just stumbled on it." She felt her cheeks redden. "At the dentist's office, and I didn't think they'd miss it. And I didn't make Riley or her do or say anything! I just--encouraged the opportunities." "And they call me evil." Spike shook his head as he walked to the hall. There, he picked up Joyce's suitcase and started up the stairs. Joyce gaped up at him. "What are you doing?" "Well, seeing as our trip is canceled--" "What do you mean? Why?" He turned on the top riser and stared down at her, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. "If the thought of wearing army fatigues and following orders doesn't drive your little girl to the breaking point, I will drive you to Vegas, and engage in the apology of your choice for as long as you please. But--" He stopped as the phone rang. She picked up the extension in the living room. "Mommy!!!" As Joyce tried to sort through the incoherent sobs pouring through the receiver into her ear, she heard Spike coming down the stairs. By the time she was able to make out a few phrases, including "He's gone," Spike was pulling on his duster. Joyce made soothing sounds into the mouthpiece before putting her hand over it and asking, "Where are you going?" "Corner store. I'm going to spend some of your gambling dosh on three or four pints of the most expensive ice cream they've got. I'll stash it in the freezer and be off to my crypt. I'm thinking of having a marathon of porn and a few other movies with big bangs. The Die Hard trilogy, maybe." A pun about his being dead but still hard ran through Joyce's mind and out again before it reached her lips. "You're leaving me?" No!" cried a voice on the phone. "I broke up with him. I had to! He said he thought I'd look good in fatigues!" Spike stopped with his hand on the doorknob to give Joyce a reassuring smile. "Just clearing out until the Slayer's sobbing subsides. You broke it, you bought it, love." And the door slammed behind him.
 I'm linking these stories to
each
other in chronological order, not the order in which they were
written. All the Spike/Joyce stories posted so far are listed
together
on the fiction
page.
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Please send feedback to: missmurchison@mchsi.com
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