Aphrodite and the Lost Scribe by Winsomeone

1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7 :: 8 :: 9 :: 10 :: 11 :: 12 :: 13 :: 14 :: 15 :: 16 :: 17 :: 18 :: 19 ::

Chapter 4: Spread your Wings

Chapter 4- Spread Your Wings

One of these mornings
You're gonna rise, rise up singing
You're gonna spread your wings, child,
And take to the sky.
-Janis Joplin
-Summertime

On Saturday the Beachside Cottage office closed at 11:00 a.m. Buffy had taken clean towels to the occupied cottages earlier, finished her other chores and returned to the parking lot. Dawn had already left to spend the day with a friend. She climbed into her truck and drove to the local building supply store. Her plan was to tile the office floor over the weekend, finishing before they reopened on Monday.

An hour later she pulled back into the parking lot, boxes of tile piled in the truck bed. Spike, rolling a large brown car cover over his convertible, watched her park the large white truck in the spot next to him.

She noticed him as she stepped down. “That's probably a good idea.”

He grimaced and gestured at his Healy. “I thought I'd better cover it. The bloody birds in the trees here love the black.” He noticed the boxes. “Nice color. What are you planning to tile?”

“I'm going to do the office floor.”

He was impressed. “That's an ambitious project.” Looking in her truck bed, he commented. “ I guess you already have your saw.”

“I've got all sorts of saws.”

Spike’s lips quirked. “No, a tile saw. You need a special saw to cut the angles.”

Buffy looked surprised. “I didn't know that.” She picked up a box of tile and started for the office, speaking back over her shoulder. “I've never actually tiled anything before. The handyman book didn't explain that part.”

Buffy wasn't sure what to do. She could call Xander, the handyman she’d hired before, but on a Saturday morning she knew he wouldn't be able to stop what he was doing to help her and she didn't want him to anyway. She couldn’t really afford to pay him to do something like this and she really wanted to get this done. Buffy could think of only one thing to do. She'd have to ask William. She didn't know if that would be construed as trying to be friendlier than she wanted, but she really had no choice. He did seem nice enough, not like he'd turn into a stalker or something over a few easy questions.

Spike watched the blonde woman standing in the doorway; she seemed to be having a debate with herself.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy finally looked over at him and asked. “Would you mind coming in and explaining what the saw actually looks like and how to use it? I'll need to go back to the store and buy one. Obviously I don't know anything about them.”

So that was what all that internal debate was about? Well, Pet, which am I? The grand prize or the consolation prize? He was amused and intrigued at the same time. Buffy was a refreshing change from all the overdone fawning that usually accompanied any chance encounter with women. But just keep her at arm’s length. His honestly compelled him to admit that she didn’t seem at all interested anyway, so that shouldn’t be a problem.

He shrugged nonchalantly, grabbed a couple of boxes and followed her into the office.

“Actually, you only need to rent one of them unless you plan to do a lot more tiling in the future. My da owns a construction company in England. I worked for him every summer during high school and college, so I've done a bit. Why don't I go with you and show you?”

Buffy shook her head. “I can't ask you to do that. You're a guest and you're on vacation. It just wouldn't be right.”

Spike paused briefly. He really needed to find out more about this girl, if only so he could push her to the far corner of his mind. She was invading his thoughts and that just wasn't going to work out well, so he persisted. “I insist, can't leave a damsel in distress, it wouldn't be gentlemanly. I don't have any actual plans now that the car's safe and I really don't mind. In fact, you can show me the local landmarks along the way. Then it's like you're being a tour guide. Part of the entire vacation package."

She watched him intently for a moment, but she finally relented with a smile. “Well, when you put it that way, o.k. But I've gotta warn you. Sunnydale is pretty small, so not too many famous landmarks, unless you count the drycleaner's. They had a huge chemical fire last year. Everybody still points at it.”

On the way to the home improvement store, Buffy and Spike tentatively made small talk. They danced around each other warily, both trying to keep the conversation light and impersonal.

Spike soon discovered that Buffy was trying hard to keep everything running while making a life for her and her sister. He was impressed with her ambition. She was not only beautiful, but a strong personality and witty sense of humor lay underneath the tightly controlled facade. Spike was enchanted.

Buffy was pleasantly surprised. In the space of a few moments, William had made her feel good about herself and her ambitions. He was obviously a kind man, although extremely reserved. He had a ready wit and a snarky sense of humor that matched her own. She started to look at him in a slightly different light.

By the time they returned to Beachside, Spike had convinced Buffy to let him teach her how to use the saw.

It took several hours to lay out the design, cut the tiles and mortar them to the floor. They worked in tandem cutting and placing the tiles. When one got tired of bending, instinctively the other would take over the job. They worked so well together, they finished faster than either expected.

Spike placed the last tile and stood up. “Now it just needs to set overnight and then you can grout it in the morning." He looked over the floor critically. "It looks good pet.”

Buffy put the last empty box in the corner. “It's a much more intricate design than I would have attempted on my own.” She tried to think of some way to thank him.

“Please let me thank you by making dinner, unless you have other plans.”

He smiled at her, surprised. “No, I haven't any plans at all. I'll just shower and change. Would an hour work out?”

An hour was perfect. She would have time to shower and still make something nice.

“That's great. My cottage is behind the office. See you in an hour or so.”

An hour later found him climbing the steps of a larger cottage. Situated behind the office, and screened by several large juniper trees, Buffy's cottage had a much wider porch than the rentals. It looked like an actual home.

The front door was painted a shiny brown and had straw baskets full of hanging vines flanking it. Several wicker chairs with flowered cushions were spaced around the large front porch. A round glass topped table, placed between two of the chairs, held a candle and a pot of purple violets. The cottage exuded an air of homey and unpretentious comfort.

When he knocked, Buffy opened the door wearing a light peach sundress, her hair soft and flowing. She smiled, stepped aside and gestured him into the room. “Hi, I'm glad you could come over tonight. I really wanted a chance to thank you for all that help. The lasagna will be ready in a few minutes.” She suddenly looked a bit anxious. “I hope you like Italian food.”

He walked past her into the cottage, turned and handed her a bottle of wine. Deliberately, he sniffed the air, and then couldn't help smiling. “It smells incredible. I love lasagna.”

Spike felt himself fall a little bit harder. He was starting to believe Buffy Summers could do just about anything. She was an accomplished businesswoman, a great cook and she looked incredibly sexy in that dress.

Spike took a deep breath and told himself to slow way down. After all, his life was too complicated to invite someone else into it right now, even if she was incredible and there was that one other small problem. She didn't really seem too interested and his plate was too full anyway. First step to new chapter in life- get your head together.

Buffy's face brightened. “Oh that's good then. It's one of my favorites, too.”

Spike crossed the room to look at a portrait on the wall. Buffy caught herself staring at him. His hair, still damp from the shower, curled slightly. He was wearing tight black jeans and an azure shirt that stretched tightly across his abdomen. Wrenching her eyes away, she excused herself to check on dinner.

In the kitchen, she gave herself a stern lecture. Even though he looks incredible- I mean that shirt really works with his blue eyes- I cannot get involved with a man right now. This is just a thank you dinner, nothing more. I don't need or want the complications. I don't think he's really interested anyway, just a nice person. A nice person who doesn’t even live around here. Besides, Buffy, you’re making yourself into a walking cliché, thinking about a relationship with a guest.

Spike walked into the kitchen during her internal debate.

Buffy shook her head, realizing that he'd said something. “What?”

His lips quirked. “I asked if you had a cork screw.”

Submit a Review!