"Prattfall..."

"Prattfall..." Part VIII

"Prattfall..."

Disclaimer: Would Joss want his name associated with this? I think not...But anyway all BTVS characters remain the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and all other owner/creators of the Buffy the Vampire Slayer series...Though his brother Mort gets nothing...

Archived at the Normalverse page of the Buffy Rebecca verse, .com...

Summary: As you know I leave the "Pratt" to the Whedonverse, except for this one little bit...

In early 30's Hollywood Spike offers advice to a distant relative...

Part VIII...

At Pratt's, Margaret's, and Frances' mutual urgings the party was starting to brake up at a relatively early hour.  Busy days for all tomorrow...Pratt also being a bit concerned about cousin Will's wallet...

One shouldn't let a day's success go to one's head in these times...He noted.  Though it had been a delightful time.  And the ladies surely had deserved their night out...And their chance to hobnob with the creme dela creme.  All of the ladies but Margaret...  Even...To Spike's slight, through unjustified concern, given her excellent behavior...Drusilla having made the most of the opportunity to mingle...

Kate returning to explain she would not require a ride home in Frances' cab.  Mr. Hughes, the dashing young aviator/producer, having offered her a lift.  While Joan had already left word she was continuing the rounds at the Brown Derby with an old pal.  Old and old money, the best possible combination, she'd noted...

" One Margaret being particularly deserving?" Spike smiled as the two gentlemen rose to fetch the remaining ladies' coats...

"Always startles me that such a beautiful girl spends so much time at home.  Frightens them off, it seems, the fellows...I suppose such beauty is hard to imagine falling into one's lap..." Pratt reflected as the coat-check girl stared at him a moment, rather unnerved by his brief, absent glance.  But immediately relaxed at his warm smile and kindly nod...

"I think she could find herself falling into the lap of one Pratt..." Spike grinned. "If he were but to ask..."

Pratt eyed him.  "I should think she'd be terrified at the notion.  Kind a lass as she is..."

"Billy..." Spike frowned. "That girl is dying for you..."

And very nearly did...He did not say...

Pratt waved a hand... "A young girl with a kind heart can develop some fool romantic ideas when she's alone.  Poor Margaret needs to get out and find a sharp young buck, not some old broken-down fellow barely clinging to the raft.  A pity you're not available, Will..."

"You aren't interested, Billy...?" Spike asked as they accepted the ladies' coats from the girl...

"I've seen meself in the mirror, Will.  And I read my bank statement each week..."

"She finds the view acceptable.  And the bank statement will change soon enough.  Unless, she's really not your type..."

"Margaret?...Lord, a man would have to be dead and buried for her not to be one's type.  But I'd not cripple her chances like that.  Indeed, I wish she'd not stayed at the table all evening.  She should have been out being seen.  I'm grateful you took her round Will...She's not pushing herself as she should.  With her looks and that fine speaking voice, she ought to be queen of this town instead of hustling for bits with the rest of us..."

"She seems content, Bill.  And I think she'd prefer your attention to that of Mr. Meyer or Laemmle..."

Pratt paused...Staring at him...