A/N: I'm back with this story I'm writing in my language (Italian), actually I'm at the 15th chapter and I can tell it's going to be a little dark, with Spike being quite 'evil' (even if it's an all- human fic).
Please feel free to let me know your thoughts and to correct any misspellings you may find!
And now I shall leave you to the reading... hoping you'll like it ^ ^
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
She hated him!
Standing in the middle of her office, Buffy Summers was glaring at the newspaper draft Willow left on her desk before leaving. Her hazel eyes sparkled with rage as she hastily read the text that filled most of the front page, before focusing on the signature at the bottom. Once more that son of a bitch of Spike had tricked her, nicking the opening piece. Since his arrival at the Sunnydale Weekly Post, the man had done his best to step on her toes, but this time he wasn't going to get away with it! She told herself, crumbling the paper with her neat fingers.
It was to late to fix it: at ten P.M., the journal was already sent for print, but this wouldn't stop her from strangling the bleached asshole! But firstly she had to make clear of the matter with the head editor, who happened to be her fiancé as well. This was the third time in two months that Riley Finn banished her article to the bottom of the page, and Buffy was starting to feel offended, professionally and personally. She had no intention to use her position as his girlfriend, but she was the editors-in-chief and therefore had the right to have her say to the decisions. Also, she was the best journalist there and that was not something to be dismissed so easily. In the last two years, until Pratt's arrival, the opening piece had always been signed by her and Buffy A. Summer would see the building fall down before giving way to the despicable creature named Spike Pratt!
Dropping the newspaper in the trashcan and wearing her best resolve face, she bolted out of the room, only stopping for a few seconds at the mirror to tidy her long blond hair. At the reception, she saw Clem dozing as usual.
"Has Finn already left?" She asked harshly. The man jumped awake with a guilty expression on the peaceful face. "Uhm! Yes, it's been an hour now."
Buffy bit the inside of her cheek, envisioning her boyfriend in their luxurious apartment, with no worry in the world. The thought angered her even more. Damn! She needed to let off all that steam but unfortunately had to wait till the next day, thanks to that stupid deal which banned all business discussion outside the office. The rule was: keep all working matters well separated from the personal ones. Easier said than done! She cursed mentally, thinking she had to go back home and pretend everything was fine. No, somehow she just had to get that thing off her chest!
She was on the point of asking Clem if Pratt had left as well, when her gaze fell on the other side of the big glass separating the hall from the parking lot. The old black de Soto of the much hated co-worker stood out in the almost empty area.
The asshole is still here!Buffy's green eyes sparkled dangerously, making poor Clem's heart race and the concierge sighed with relief when she silently turned around. Buffy went all the way back through the hallway leading to the offices. When she reached the colleague's door, few yards from hers, she didn't stop to knock and marched in the dark, smoky room not even the fluorescent lights from the outside could lighten.
As always, the honky-tonk smell made her wrinkle up her nose. Why the disgusting creature would persist in keeping the windows closed and covered, she would never understand! "Fuck you want, Summers?" a voice, throaty and a little breathless, captured her attention to the desk. Buffy squeezed her eyes to better see the manly silhouette sitting behind it and reached for the switch.
"Wouldn't do it if I were ya." warned Spike Pratt with the same voice.
Then he groaned.
Puzzled, Buffy frowned. She was going to turn on the light, uncaring of his words when she heard a thud followed by another moan, this time feminine, coming from under the desk.
"What...? OH, my God!" comprehension of what was going on in that room suddenly hit her and Buffy instinctively took a step back, bumping in the doorpost. Spike sneered before yelling in the direction of his feet: "Bloody hell, dont'ya dare stop! Fuck, I'm close!"
Then he went back to groaning soundly.
"Oh, my God" Buffy whispered again, in shock. She felt petrified, unable to move or even to blink.
"SUMMERS! Either you join us or you take your bloody ass oooo-OH yeah, baby! Yeah!" the man let out a guttural endless shout, then collapsed against the high back of the leather chair.
"Fucking great!" he panted. "That's exactly what a man needs after a bloody day of work!"
Some seconds later, a head peeked out from under the desk and even in the dim-light of the room, Buffy was able to recognize Harmony, the blond receptionist of the Sunnydale Post.
"Always happy to be helpful, blondie bear," meowed the girl , then she made a show in wiping her lips and rolled to the door.
As she walked past Buffy, still motionless and with her mouth open, Harmony shot her a triumphant glare.
Buffy got a hold of herself and frowned, following the girl with her eyes. What did the bimbo felt triumphant for? Did she think she had won a competition? Did she believe her behaviour was something to be proud of? Stupid slut! Ah, but if she thought she could do what the hell she liked during the work hou-
"You still here, Summers?"
The girl blinked and suddenly realized that Harmony had left, the lamp on the desk had been turned on and Spike Pratt was right in front of her, with his platinum blonde hair, his sharp cheekbones and the cobalt blue eyes that were staring at her with weird intensity.