Title: Family
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Author: Apache Firecat
Characters: Spike/Buffy, Joyce(+/Spike), Dawn, also mentions Angel/Buffy
Rating: PG/K+
Summary: Buffy most certainly does NOT approve!
Word Count: 1,595
Written For: Fan FlashWorks 416: Marathon
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.










"Mom, what are you doing?" Buffy asked, standing in the doorway to their home's kitchen. She had certainly seen plenty of strange things go through this small house, especially what with being a Slayer and all, but never once had she ever thought that she could possibly find her mother squeezing out a bag of blood, especially not over popcorn! She frowned deeply, placed her hands on her hips, and asked again in her most authoritative, I'm-the-Slayer-and-you'd-better-answer-me-NOW voice, "What are you doing?!"

"Oh, this," Joyce waved a hand in the air as though she was plating cookies or fixing hotdogs or hamburgers, something, anything more normal than squirting blood onto buttered popcorn kernels. "There's a marathon on tonight, Buffy."

Buffy continued to stare. "A marathon of what," she finally asked, "'I Want To Lay Out Popcorn For The Undead And Make Myself An Easy Target For All My Slayer Daughter's Enemies'?!"

"Is that a show?" Joyce softly queried, glancing up at her.

Buffy groaned and actually smacked her forehead just as Dawn slipped into the kitchen. "I do not believe you just asked me that! Or that you're putting blood on popcorn! What is wrong with you?!"

"Spike's coming over," Dawn spoke as though that explained everything.

Buffy unconsciously dropped a hand from her hip. "I do not exactly think all this time you've been spending with him is a good idea, Mom. But, seriously, bloody popcorn?! It's bad enough you're spending time with him, but -- " She stopped and stared as Dawn pulled a pan out of the oven. "What is that?" she demanded.

Dawn shrugged. "You know he likes onion blossoms, Buffy. You've actually dated him!"

"I have not actually dated him, and what time I did spend with him was a horrible mistake! The time you're spending with him," her green eyes darted between her mother and sister, "you're both spending with him is definitely a mistake!"

"He's not going to hurt us, dear."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that! Mom, do you know what he's done?!"

"I don't need to. He's not the same man as he was."

"What's Angel done?" Dawn piped up, gingerly touching a finger to a crisp, brown onion petal.

"That's beside the point! Angel has a soul!"

"Because he was cursed by Gypsies," Dawn muttered, rolling her big, blue eyes.

"This... crush you have on Spike -- "

"I do not have a crush on Spike!"

"Then explain the onion blossoms."

She shrugged. "He's bringing the sodas -- "

"And adult teas," Joyce murmured.

"What?!" Buffy nearly shouted, her head snapping back to refocus her gaze on her mother.

"It's a special vintage." Joyce at least sounded almost defensive. "He doesn't have a use for it, and he said he'd thought I'd like it. At least, I don't think he has a use for it. I guess he could mix blood into it too."

"Can I try it?" Dawn asked.

"NO!" Joyce and Buffy shouted as one.

But then Joyce drew her composure back together and looked a little more tenderly to her elder daughter. "Buffy, Spike is a good man. He's been there for us all several times."

"And he's tried to bite every one of us, Mom!"

"That was before."

Buffy gave a frustrated half-scream, half-growl and again slapped her own forehead. The doorbell rang. Dawn and Joyce both cast excited glances toward the sound. "That would be him," Joyce spoke.

"No duh," growled Buffy. "Look, Mom, I really don't think this is a good idea! Look at what he's got you doing, for Christ's sake, putting blood on popcorn!"

"I'll go let him in," Dawn said. She scooted by her big sister and then broke into a run the moment she was clear of the kitchen, before Buffy could grab her and pull her back.

"Look, Buffy. I didn't think the relationship with Angel was exactly healthy for you, and hanging out with Faith was definitely a bad idea. I don't like the fact that you're the Slayer and that you spend all night every night risking your life -- "

"Mom," Buffy ground out, closing her eyes in a futile attempt to gather her own patience, "we've been through this. I don't get a choice in being the Slayer."

"I know, but I still don't like it. And Spike has been there for you to help you save the world and keep you safe, time and again, soul or no soul."

"He's still a -- "

"So is Angel."

"That's different!"

"Why?" Joyce asked flatly. "Because Gypsies cursed him? Spike is choosing to do good!"

"Spike has a chip in his head. He's like a neutered dog or something! If it wasn't for that chip, I would have already had to stop him from biting you by staking him! Or Dawn. Or me. Or Willow. Or -- "

"Red's really not my type, Buffy, and you know who I want to bite." Spike grinned slyly as he slid into the kitchen. "Joyce, that smells wonderful!"

"Actually," Dawn spoke up from behind him, shyly twisting her hands behind her back, "I made the onion blossoms."

"But I fixed popcorn and hot chocolate just the way you like them."

"For you," Spike offered, drawing flowers out from behind his back.

"They're beautiful!"

"Mom! He got them from the cemetery!"

"They're dead. They can't appreciate them. He can't exactly hold a job, Buffy." Joyce accepted the flowers as she was talking and set about putting them into a vase.

"The wine's in the living room. Also brought some of the Nibblet's favorite sodas."

"Try one?" Dawn asked, holding up an onion blossom. She grimaced, pretending it wasn't hot, as she held it out to him.

"Don't you dare -- " Buffy started to say, but he didn't try to take it from her sister's outstretched hand with his mouth. Instead, he grasped it with his long, pale fingers, popped it into his mouth, and began to make rather satisfied noises as he chewed.

He smirked around the mouthful of food as he watched her face color. Swallowing, Spike told her, "You could join us, you know, pet."

"Yeah, Buffy," Dawn enthused instantly. "Passions actually isn't that bad!"

"I have work to do," she muttered, turning on her heel and storming out the door. She definitely needed to find some Vampires to stake, and quickly! "IF YOU HURT THEM, SPIKE," she shouted back over her shoulder, "THERE'S NO TORTURE LIKE WHAT I'LL PUT YOUR DEAD ASS THROUGH BEFORE I FINALLY STAKE YOU!"

"Wouldn't dream of it," he muttered even as Dawn pushed to find out what he thought of the onion blossoms and Joyce worried over the popcorn.

"Did I put enough blood on it?" she asked.

"ARGH!" Buffy screamed, throwing up her hands and letting the door slam shut behind her.

Spike beamed. "The blood-to-kernal ratio is perfect, Joyce, and, Nibblet, not even the Bronze does them better! Shall we?" he asked, wrapping a leather-clad arm around Joyce's shoulder and lifting the tray of onion blossoms with a bare hand. "I do believe we may be just a few minutes late to our program."

"Yeah," Dawn intoned, rolling her eyes, "thanks to Buffy."

"She'll come around one day, Spike," Joyce tried to assure him.

He smiled at her. "I'm not here for her tonight anyway." He hoped she was right, but he'd not allow the Slayer's disapproval to spoil his evening. He popped another blossom into his mouth and chewed it, acutely aware of Dawn's enjoyment in the satisfied noises of approval he allowed to slip from his black lips, as he reached for their drinks. He passed her a soda as she turned on the telly and poured Joyce a glass of wine in an antique goblet he'd brought just for her.

"Wow!" Joyce exclaimed, turning the goblet slowly around in her hand. "This is -- "

"Ming Dynasty, I know," he said with a wink. He also knew it would make Buffy even angrier at him when she saw the antique. He had two of the three Summers women won over. Now he only had to woo the most important one to him, the most important lady he'd ever known. But he'd known already it was going to be a scene when he came over this night. "Let's not let her ruin our fun, shall we, luvs?"

"Buffy who?" Dawn asked, reaching for a handful of popcorn. Her mother carefully slid the correct bowl underneath her groping hand.

If I was any younger, she thought, admiring Spike as he sat beside her, but the simple fact was that she was not. That was what bothered her the most, that and that her daughter was still so blinded over Angelus, who'd had to be cursed to start saving the world, to be able to appreciate the fact that this man hung on her every word. She wondered if he'd written any new poetry lately, but they'd discuss that long after Dawn was put to bed. Joyce smiled and sipped her wine. "Mmm! This is lovely!"

"A lovely vintage for a lovely lady," Spike murmured, glancing at her as he chewed bloody kernels. She beamed, and in the low lighting of the Summers' living room, Spike couldn't help seeing a certain resemblance between mother and daughter. He kept his thoughts to himself, though, smiling at her and then shifting his gaze back to the telly. Maybe Buffy would come around one night. Regardless, he hadn't felt this much at ease with a family... well... since, ever, really. His own mum had never been as kind.



The End