An Evening in Los Angeles: Part 3
by Ahn
Joss and the WB own and created all that you know and love. I merely created a plot that you can play in.



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Part Three

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Spike asked himself for the upteenth time as he looked around the brightly lit booth that he was in. He looked at the woman calmly sipping coffee in front of him.

Joyce Summers thought as she sipped the hot coffee. She looked at the vampire sitting across from her, looking at anything and everything, except her. When he looked at her, she cocked her eyebrow at him."I guess that I should voice the thought we've both been having, what the hell are we doing here?"

An involuntary chuckle came from Spike's lips."Beats the hell out of me, Mrs.Summers. If you can. Tell me something."

Joyce waited as Spike paused, started to word something, then pause again, trying to figure out what he wasn't sure he wanted to ask."What makes you think that I'm an orphan, let alone a noble woman's son?"

"Other than the fact that I read some of the very little information that the Watcher's Journals had on you?"Joyce asked blithely,appearing to have not a single care about with whom she was talking to."And from what Buffy had told me about you? And from what I saw of you? Very little that added to what I know."

"What does the Watchers' Journals know about me? And what did the Slayer say about me?"Spike frowned.

"From Buffy, I got that you only helped her in order to get Drucilla away from Angel and that you killed two other Slayers before her. From Giles, only the information that you appeared little under two centuries ago, in England, near the county of Hampshire, in the township of Warwickton, killing and destroying most of the inhabitants and buildings of that village,"Joyce said matter-of-factly."And from myself, I have seen you in my house long enough to note that your manners are at odds with your...demeanor."

"I don't get it. What are you saying?"

"A near two hundred year old vampire from the gutters doesn't *just* develop refined manners once he's become undead. There is no need to. So while you were...not part of the undead, you must have had some training in being a gentleman,"Joyce said gently. "So Spike, am I right? You were a part of the nobility when you were young."

Spike grabbed the coffee cup in front of him, then, after a long moment, glared at Joyce."I was the illegitimate son of the Earl of Wharton and a knight's daughter. Mother...died when I was near twelve."

Joyce nodded slowly. Spike looked at her sharply."So what about you? What's this about orphans recognizing orphans?"

"My parents, my biological ones, were from England. They died in a car accident when I was ten,"Joyce said slowly."I had no family there, but my mother had a cousin in America, and so here I came. She and her husband did their family duty, and took me in."

"You're from England?"Spike asked stunned. Joyce looked at him with a wry smile."I had a nanny,too. And if you really press me, I can make a heavenly good batch of scones with currants, crumpets with clotted cream, and kidney pie."

Spike looked at her oddly."Scones? Crumpets? Kidney pie? How-"

"Odd, I know, but my since my parents had given me totally to my nanny, I learned how to cook from her,"Joyce said as a wistful look sped through her face briefly."When I was adopted by my mother's cousin and her husband, there was no need for her. So she went back to England."

"Then what happened?"

"I went to school, then college, met Buffy's father, got married then divorced, and I am now an art gallery manager who is at this moment realizing that she is having a cup of coffee with the vampire that tried to kill her daughter last year, but had just saved her life thirty minutes ago,"Joyce finished in one breath."Sorry it all just hit me just now."

"Don't be. It's all just hitting me that *I'm* having coffee with the Slayer's Mother. It's weird that, you know. The Slayer having a mother,"Spike mused."Must be one for the dalies."

"Why? The Slayer has to be born into this world just like everyone else does."

"I guess. Never really thought of it, never really cared,"Spike said as he drank his coffee."Slayers were just pretty much there to kill, not to get to know. Kill the Slayer, and you've got it made as a demon."

"Spike, better not talk about killing Slayers right now,"Joyce warned with a militant look in her brown eyes. Spike looked at her, then, to his astonishment, reddened slightly. He took a quick sip of his coffee.

After a moment Joyce resumed the conversation."So what happened to you after your mother died?"

"My mother's mother took care of me for the next year, until she died. And then my uncle threw me out of the house with only enough clothes and money to get me to London, to see my...father,"Spike said flatly. He looked at Joyce with cold eyes."He would have thrown me out on my...ear if it hadn't been for my grandfather, his father. I stayed until he, my grandfather died."

"So, then,"Joyce said hesitantly."Where's Drucilla?"

Spike only looked at his coffee. Joyce waited for a moment, and then realized that he wasn't going to answer. Not thinking, she touched his hand in comfort. She whispered softly."Oh, Spike. I'm so sorry."

Spike's head shot up, his eyes furious."Sorry about what?"

"That she left you. That she didn't want you,"Joyce replied simply. Spike stared at her, then laughed harshly.

"You're delusional. Drucilla's never left me...she just went out hunting without telling me, and something's happened to her. I just have to find her, and make sure that she's all right."

Joyce shook her head."You can lie to anyone but me Spike. I know that Drucilla's left you, and that it hurts that she doesn't want you."

Spike growled."How the hell would you know? What do you know about not being wanted? What do you know about hurting?"

"Just because I was adopted by my mother's cousin, doesn't mean that I was wanted, Spike. Just like a baby is not always wanted by its parents,"Joyce said softly."My parents never wanted me, but it was the right thing to do. My cousin's husband never really wanted me, but it was the right thing to do. But sometimes, the right thing to do isn't the really good thing to do."

"Like having a bastard,"Spike whispered."When she could have had everything in the world just by asking, but instead, wanting a bastard that even his father didn't care for."

Spike looked at her, resentment filling his eyes."I don't like this...I haven't felt any of these feelings for lifetimes. So why don't I just kill you now?"

"Because Buffy would hunt you down like the vampire you are, and be nasty about it,"Joyce replied calmly."And because, even though you may love Drucilla, she was more like a pet to care for, not...she was not...a friend. And I don't think that you eat your friends, Spike. That would go too much against the grain, even for you."

"A friend?"Spike echoed."Friend?"

"Yeah, friend. You like, amigo? But I wouldn't go far as compadre, not just yet,"Joyce said as she drank the last of her coffee. Spike still had that stunned look on his face.

"I've...I've never really had a...friend, not since....well, not for a long time,"Spike sputtered."Friend?"

"Friend,"Joyce said firmly."And friends don't threaten each other. Nor do they eat each other. Much too impolite."

Spike nodded."All right...friends. We're...friends."

Joyce looked out the window and saw the night. It was still a bit frightening, thinking that there were live monsters out there in the dark, but she was learning to cope. And now, when life handed her the irony of being saved by a vampire, her daughter's sworn enemy, she made a friend. Life was...weird, to quote her daughter. Life was very weird."I have to get back to my hotel room. But a word of caution, Spike. before I go."

"Oh?"Spike tensed. Joyce smiled at his tense look.

"I have two rules to tell you if ever you decide to come and visit Sunnydale. The first is that you can come into the house, but you can't eat anybody. And the second, try not to fight with Buffy if she *is* in the house. I like my furniture."

Spike laughed involuntarily. Joyce walked away a few steps before she looked back at him."And keep Drucilla away from Sunnydale, Spike ...My daughter's still grieving over Kendra, and you wouldn't like the choice I would have to make between my daughter and my friend's girl."

Spike watched Joyce's retreating back, and slumped into the booth. It was...a vey weird night. In saving the Slayer's Mother, he had gained a friend. It was an irony in life that he had never thought he would, in his wildest imaginings, ever made. His friend was the Slayer's Mother. He frowned angrily. He rose from the seat, and out rolled the packet of pig's blood that she had given him in thanks for saving her life. He stared hard at it before he picked it up, and stuffed it into his pocket. He fingered the packet gingerly as he walked out the door of the diner.


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