The stage was empty. No actors took the space in gorgeous costumes, projecting classic lines and expecting the audience to swoon, no sets towering over, no spotlights or colors to fit the mood of a piece. Only ropes and curtains, the ghosts of previous productions, took the stage.

Of course, Spike Williams didn’t see it that way. The stage just looked dead to him. No actors paraded around in silly costumes, yelling pointless lines and expecting the audience to laugh, no sets half broken, no colorful lights to blind those facing them. Only weird metal objects littering the back and irritating theater geeks filling the front rows of the auditorium like a plague.

He never wanted to audition for A Midsummer Night’s Dream. In fact, the idea alone made him want to heave. Unfortunately, he was caught spraying graffiti on the library wall and now had to audition for the play. The principal insisted he start spending time with “other kinds of students.” He would have rather had months of detention, but the principal and his detention instructor decided it wouldn’t do him any good. Spike tried to go for any other school activity, but they were either full or didn’t want a punk like him in their midst’s. So, the school play it would be. A small group of misfits, generally bored teenagers and genuinely interested theater geeks brought together to make fools of themselves.

“Alright. Hello everyone!” Mr. Giles, the director, ran up the stairs to the stage. “Welcome to the auditions for our fall production: A Midsummer Nights Dream. I see some old faces and some new ones. To those who have worked with me before, I expect you to help those who haven’t along in the process. Now then… for those of you who do not know the plot of A Midsummer Nights Dream, I will sum it up. The Shakespearian masterpiece tells a wonderful tale of tomfoolery, scandal, magic and love.

“The beautiful Hermia is in love with Lysander. And although the boy loves her back, he is below her station and is therefore unsuitable to marry. Demetrius, on the other hand, plans on marrying Hermia for both love and title. Helena is in love with Demetrius and thinking she will get him to love her, she tells him that Lysander and Hermia plan to elope in the forest that very night. An enraged Demetrius goes into the forest to stop the elopement and a disappointed Helena follows. But the mischievous faeries in the forest have their own plans, especially a trickster named Puck who works for the mighty Faerie King Oberon. Hijinks ensue with a happily ever after at the end. So,” Mr. Giles clapped his hands and rubbed them together in anticipation. “Let’s begin!”

His speech was followed by loud whoops and hollers of appreciation from the house of the auditorium. Spike just rolled his eyes.

The audition went alphabetically. This meant that Spike had to wait and watch everyone A through V. Most kids obviously had no clue what they were doing, which made him feel better considering he would be among them. Half the boys couldn’t understand the language and half the girls ignored the commas and line breaks. Spike was already embarrassed to be a part of it. Out of the sixty some-odd kids who auditioned, only a few seemed competent enough: Xander Harris, a klutzy sophmore and class clown, Willow Rosenberg, a soft spoken junior, Angel Feins, a jock-head, cocky senior, Lorne Hart, a flamboyantly gay and extremely talented junior, and Buffy Summers, a junior and well known theater geek since birth.

Buffy Summers starred in every play the high school put on, the middle school before that, and even the crummy elementary school plays. In classes, she was the girl everyone turned to, to read Shakespeare in English or Plays in Drama. Spike thought that because of her status, Buffy believed herself in charge of the Theater Department. He hated her because of her holier-than-thou attitude and diva demeanor. Spike rolled his eyes again when she graced the stage with her presence.

“Hi Mr. Giles!” she waved to him at the back of the auditorium. “Hi everybody.”

“Hello Miss Summers, welcome back. What will you be auditioning with?”

“Oh, right. I am auditioning with Helena’s love speech?”

“Whenever you are ready.”

“Ok,” Buffy took a deep breath and began.

“How happy some o'er other some can be!
Through Athens I am thought as fair as she.
But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so;
He will not know what all but he do know.
And as he errs, doting on Hermia's eyes,
So I, admiring of his qualities.
Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste;
Wings, and no eyes, figure unheedy haste.
And therefore is Love said to be a child,
Because in choice he-“

“Thank you Miss Summers, that will be enough.” Buffy smiled, did a sickeningly sweet curtsey and left the stage. Spike mimicked her in falsetto and snickered. He received several glares from other members of the theater department. If they were going to always act like that, he was in for a miserable few months.

After a few more auditions, Spike’s name was called. He dragged himself to the stage and gazed out accusingly at the director. He didn’t notice.

“And you are Spike Williams? That’s a rather unusual name. Alright, what will you be reading for us today?” Mr. Giles looked at him with an enormous smile on his face. Spike continued to stare out angrily.

“I didn’t bring anything.” Spike crossed his arms in an act that he found defiant.

“That’s alright. Our stage manager Jenny will get you a side.” A woman sitting next to Mr. Giles nodded and walked to the front of the auditorium.

“Sorry, a side?”

“A piece from the show to audition with.” Jenny picked a sheet out of a folder and handed it to him. After skimming the page, Spike spoke up again.

“What is this? This is complete gibberish!”

“No, Mr. Williams, it’s not. You just need to give it a chance. Now read the first line.” Spike did not like being treated like a kindergartener, but he read it anyway. He didn’t want to get into any more trouble than necessary.

“Ok…‘My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth,
Of this their purpose hither to this wood;
And I in fury hither follow'd them-'”

“Stop! Stop, stop.” Mr. Giles spoke quietly to Jenny, who in turned nodded and walked to Spike. She ripped the paper out of his hands and gave him a different sheet. “Now, Mr. Williams, let me explain this to you. Do not think of the words like a boar thinks of food, just to gobble it up and get through it. Think of the words like a staircase, building towards a higher meaning and point. Can you do that for me?” Spike nodded, though he wasn’t completely clear on the objective.

“When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer: my next is, 'Most fair Pyramus.' Heigh-ho! Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Snout, the tinker! Starveling! God's my life, stolen hence, and left me asleep! I have had a most rare vision-‘"

“Ok, now try it again, but have a little more confidence in your words. Think of every word as an idea forming in your head. Now, go from I have had a most rare vision.” Spike was beginning to feel vulnerable and uncomfortable. Out of all the other auditionees, no one received the treatment he did. Even the terrible ones were let off the hook. Nonetheless, he continued.

"'I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was: man is but an ass, if he go about to expound this dream. Methought I was--there is no man can tell what. Methought I was, and methought I had… but man is but a patched fool, if he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream: it shall be called Bottom's Dream, because it hath no bottom; and I will sing it in the latter end of a play, before the duke: peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it at her death.’"

No one spoke for a little as his inherent talent stunned the audience. Suddenly, a few people began to clap. The rest followed as Mr. Giles smiled, apparently pleased with himself. Everyone applauded that is except for one Buffy Summers, who looked at him in complete disgust.

Mr. Giles ended the applause and told everyone to hush. He said that the cast list would be up the next morning. Then, the many teenagers got their stuff together and left in small cliques. Quite a few of them patted Spike on the back for doing a great job. When he was about to leave, however, he was faced with an disdainful Buffy Summers.

“Yeah?” he said as she continued to block his path.

“Look,” she said as she poked his chest. “I know why you’re here and let me tell you I think it’s ridiculous. Just because the principal doesn’t like the Arts Department doesn’t mean he should just throw every juvenile delinquent into the plays. I don’t want you here, but I don’t really have a choice. But you do. I’m going to ask once that you forfeit the play before the cast list goes up tomorrow.”

“And why would I do that?” Spike sneered.

“Because you are going to ruin it! You have no clue about theater! And I mean, yeah, you have some raw talent, but I don’t want you messing up the play, ok? Please quit.”

“Hey,” he said between clenched teeth. “I don’t want to be here but I don’t have a choice, do I? I’m going to be suspended or expelled if I’m not in this and I’m not gonna let that happen because of a snobby bint like you.” Buffy gasped and stared him down with fire burning in her pupils.

“Don’t you dare.”

“In fact, I was thinking I’d quit, but now I’m going to stay in it just. For. You.” He smiled mockingly and turned his back on her. She fumed behind him.

Oh yeah, this was definitely going to be an interesting couple of months.

The next morning was fiercely cold. While most students would not come in for several more hours, the dedicated theater troupe stood outside, waiting for the casting results. They were warriors on a battlefront, and although all working toward the goal of creating masterpiece theater, each one was set on their own plea to win a lead.

Spike liked to think he wasn’t part of the flock. He casually leaned against his car several yards away, a cigarette dangling from his mouth and wearing a thin, leather duster to keep him cold like the rest of them. He didn’t care about the results. Nope. He did not care.

And that was the very thought that made him look back up to see the group scurrying inside. Without thinking, Spike jumped up and ran to see the list inside as if getting there earlier somehow guaranteed a lead role. He saw them shuffle around in an attempt to see their names posted. He saw Mr. Giles and a Custodian standing off to the side and assumed they opened the school early just to post the list. Buffy was situated behind the herd with her eyes closed and fingers crossed. Spike didn’t know why she even bothered; she knew she was getting a part. Nonetheless, he found it interesting that she did not push like the others. It almost made her… graceful.

Spike shook his head in sudden distaste. She was in no way graceful; she was a complete diva and probably needed to be taught a lesson. He smiled at the change of thought.

After a few minutes of waiting for the crowd to disperse, Spike threw his arms up and pushed people out of the way in an attempt to see the list. He did not even want a big part because that would imply lots of lines and effort he wasn’t 100% willing to provide. Yet, he ran to it like the rest of them. It only took a few shoves to see the list clearly. Spike ran his finger through the smaller parts, but did not see his name listed. While he never wanted to be part of the show in the first place, he could not ignore the sudden stab of rejection.

Pushed back out of the group, Spike shook his head and wondered how the principal would react. Just as he began walking away, Lorne Hart bumped into him enthusiastically.

“Hey! Congrats on Lysander by the way. Who knew you had a little actor in you all along. You are going to be fantastico!” Spike looked at him as if he had horns growing out of his head.

“What?”

“What do you mean what? Don’t tell me your playing it humble.” Lorne smiled knowingly.

“No, I mean what are you talking about? I wasn’t listed.” Lorne’s smile faded for a moment, but came back full force.

“No! You got Lysander! The lead! Congratulations! Of course, I had my eye set on that role… but, like my mom says, you take what’s on your plate and pretend that it’s a cake. See you after school.” He waved emphatically and walked backwards until he reached the main doors. Spike shoved himself passed the irritated thespians to see the list:

Lysander: Spike Williams
Hermia: Willow Rosenberg
Helena: Buffy Summers
Demetrius: Angel Feins
Puck: Wesley Wyndam-Price
Oberon: Lorne Hart
Nick Bottom: Xander Harris
Titania: Cordelia Chase
Players:
Andrew Wells
Johnathan Levinson
Clem (?)

Faeries (Specifics TBA)
Glory Woodside
Ben Woodside
Amy Madison

Backstage:
Warren Meers
Adam Weber
Richie Wilkinson

Spike was confused. The lead? The thought of the amount of lines he would have to memorize jumped around his head. If only Lorne hadn’t told him; if only he had accepted the rejection. The fates had a funny way of screwing up his life, and this seemed no different. In the middle of this progression of thoughts, he saw Mr. Giles head off toward the Music wing. Spike ran to him.

“Mr. Giles?” he spoke out of breath. It had occurred to him that he should quit smoking, but he was never motivated enough to bother.

“Yes! Spike, you did great job. Congratulations! I am sure you will do fine.” He patted Spike on the back awkwardly and moved to leave again, but Spike continued.

“No. I mean, I’m grateful for the part and everything, but you don’t want as a lead. I’m not theater material. Can’t you just make me a player or something?” Mr. Giles began to clean his glasses with a white handkerchief in his pocket.

“Well… I, um… Spike, I can change your part… but are you sure that’s what you want? Because once I give it away there’s no giving it back.” Mr. Giles put his glasses back on and looked at Spike with a stern expression.

“Well, I, um…” Spike began, but he was interrupted by a high-pitched whine of a voice.

“No, Mr. Giles, you should do what he says. He wouldn’t be able to uphold the high standards you have for your shows. It would just be better if he had a role in the chorus.”

“Hey! I don’t want to sing!” Buffy Summers rolled her eyes in painful disapproval.

“You see? He doesn’t even understand theater speech!”

“Who the hell are you to say what I can and can’t do?” Spike couldn’t put his finger on why, but every single Buffy trait set him off. “I could learn a hundred of those lines if I wanted to!”

“Could not!”

“Could too!”

“Could not! I bet you couldn’t even perform in front of an audience. It’s a lot harder than you think, you know.”

“You know, I really doubt that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“I am going to take so much pleasure in watching you screw us all over.”

“”I’ll get you front row seats! No wait… you’ll be part of it!” he felt his eyes burn with fury.

“Well, you know what you can do with your stupid part, you can shove-“

“Children!” Mr. Giles abruptly caught their attention with a glare that would make a US Marine squirm. “Spike, do you want the part or not? I need you to be honest with me here because I will have no shenanigans in this production. None.” The teens looked at each other in disgust. Then, Spike smiled and puffed up his chest.

“I’ll take the part.”

“Wha-“ Buffy began, but Mr. Giles cut her off yet again.

“Miss Summers, you will of course respect Mr. Kingsley’ decision to remain in the play. I’m sure you will get along famously. Now, I have to get going. See you both after school!” he yelled as he walked away. Spike stood in front of her with a purely smug expression. She wanted to claw it off his face.

“I hate you.” She said quietly.

“Yeah, and you’re a basket of kittens.” They were both silent for a minute. Spike stared at his shoes, considering other insults he could respond with. When he looked up again, Buffy had her head down demurely.

“What?!” he said roughly. She looked up at him with red eyes and Spike’s stomach dropped a few centimeters. Nonetheless, he stood his ground.

“Please,” she said softly. “Please, don’t do this. I know there are a hundred different things you could do. Look, I need this show. I need it to get into college and I need it to get an agent and I need it to get my mom to finally support me in my choice to act for a living. And my dad… he… he has never even seen me try. But if it all goes wrong…” Buffy could not continue as she choked up. Spike looked her over.

“Bullshit.”

“What?!”

“Total bullshit. What, are you trying to use your acting skills to get me to quit?”

“You are insufferable.” She waved her arm in his face angrily.

“Maybe, but at least I’m not a geek with delusions of power. I’m not the one who is looked down on, luv.” He grinned maliciously at her downfall. She stared at him for a moment, nodded and walked away. Spike could have sworn he saw her tremble as she stalked off. He despised her more than anyone he knew, and she threw just as many insults his way and he did her.

So, why did he feel like such a jerk?

After School

“Welcome to A Midsummer Night’s Dream!” Mr. Giles raised his arms as he stood on the empty, dimly lit stage. The audience in the house of the auditorium clapped and whistled enthusiastically. Spike looked for signs of distress, but Buffy seemed just as enthusiastic as the rest. Thankfully, they had no classes together. Spike did not want a rematch quite so soon.

“Now, I know you all are very excited to begin, but we must explain the rules for new members of our troupe. Ok, in case you don’t know or remember, my name is Mr. Giles. Most of you will end up just calling me Giles and that is fine. This is Jenny,” he point to a pretty, younger woman to his left, “my stage manager. There are only five rules here as we are pretty lenient. One, all rules already in place at this school will also be followed here. Two, if you for some reason cannot make any rehearsals, dress rehearsals, or the show dates, you must tell me today. No exceptions. Three, no disruptions while we are working. You may do your homework or speak quietly with your neighbors, but, and do not test me on this, if you start a ruckus you will be asked to leave immediately. Four, have fun and take risks. We are all here because we want to be, so let’s have fun with our roles. And finally five, no smoking.

“Ok! Let’s get to it!” This received another round of applause; Spike thought that the group was too excited for his taste. “Now, can everyone grab a chair and come up here. We are going to do a read through. For those of you unsure of what that is, it is pretty self-explanatory as we are reading through the play.” The group below immediately got their stuff together and moved toward the stage. They were like an army in their movements: an army of thespians. Spike didn’t know if he should be scared or move along with them. He decided on the latter, but took his good time getting his chair up to the stage. By then, everyone was staring at him angrily.

“Mr. Williams, better late than never. With that said, don’t be late again. I’m not a mean guy, but I will be if I have to.” Spike nodded. It seemed that Giles had a dark side that he chose right then and there he never wanted to witness.

The read-through went by slowly. While some of the kids were well versed in Shakespearian language, others stumbled along without proper breaks in punctuation or iambic pentameter. Spike was surprised he remembered the term from his freshman English class. He was ok with the words, but had trouble understanding what they meant.

Practice ended around six o’clock: a full three hours after it began. When Spike got his backpack and jacket together, he saw Buffy across the stage doing the same. He walked over to her. For some reason he couldn’t understand in the least, he felt the need to apologize. Most people were gone by then.

“Summers.” He stated. Buffy lifted her head, narrowed her eyes and looked back down to her book bag. Neither spoke for a long time; with each minute, Spike’s impatience grew tenfold. “What, you aren’t even going to insult me now? And I thought we were growing as people.” He smiled at his successful torment, but the expression faltered when she stood up with a similar smile adorning her face.

“Thou art sick in the world’s regard, wretched and low, a poor unminded outlaw sneaking home.”(1).” Spike looked confounded. Buffy looked proud.

“Huh?” he spoke eloquently.

“Be not lost so poorly in your thoughts,” she continued to his bewildered expression (2).

“What are you on about?”

“You speak unskillfully: or, if your knowledge be more, it is much darkened in your malice,” she said as she walked away (3).

“Wait! What are you talking about?! Come back!” Buffy turned around one last time and smiled sweetly at him.

“Basically, my dear boy, I find the ass in compound with the major part of your syllables. (4)” Buffy curtseyed and left him in the auditorium alone. He at least understood the last one, but by the time he figured what it meant in context, he yelled out “Hey!” to the empty auditorium. He swore he heard Buffy Summers chuckling through the hallway.

Spike did not know whether he should be furious or amused. He decided to go along with his intuition and be amused, as he admired her knowledge of Shakespearian insults.

But he would be ready for rehearsal the next day. He was actually excited to trade insults again. He had never found an adversary so intriguing as Buffy.

He also decided he needed to leave the stage before all of his thoughts took on Shakespearian words.

Buffy practiced her lines during meals, in class, between classes, at home, when she wasn’t working on her scenes during rehearsals and even while brushing her teeth. She had performed in several Shakespearian play before, but she had never received such a large role in one of them. Helena was a critical role and Buffy planned on doing it justice.

Spike, on the other hand, did not practice. Instead, he did the usual: he hung around with his friends, drank, was reckless, and skipped school. Strangely enough, however, he never missed one rehearsal. His friends kept asking him why and he always explained that he didn’t want to get into any more trouble with the principal than he had to. But that wasn’t the real reason. In fact, Spike was actually enjoying himself.

But he would never admit that.

Before practice every day, Buffy waited and prayed that Spike would suddenly choose not to show up. Then, one of the others could take his role instead. Something about him just irked her. She also began to notice an increase in thinking about Spike Williams. While he never seemed important enough to waste time thinking about, his sudden presence in her life drove her insane. Buffy decided, like any studying actor, to place her frustrations into the frustrations of her character. Her fellow actors commented and praised her progress, but on the inside, she was screaming.

On Friday, Giles reminded everyone about the rehearsal on Sunday from noon to four. Everyone groaned equally, but sure enough, everyone was equally just as excited. Everyone, that is, except Spike, which is why the director spoke to him specifically after practice that day.

“Spike?”

“Hmm?” he said without looking up as he packed up his bag.

“I wanted to know how you were getting along with your lines?” Spike stopped what he was doing as he realized he had been caught. Although he was surprisingly enjoying the experience, he was never prepared and he knew it; he just hoped no one would catch on. He was apparently wrong.

“Um… fine, I guess,” he muttered. Giles began to clean his glasses as the rest of the cast made their way out of the auditorium.

“Because I was hoping maybe we could have chat?”

“A chat?”

“I see you working very hard and I realize this is your first time on the stage… however, you do have a lead and many people are depending on you and your performance…”

“And?”

“And… well, um, you see…” his glasses found their way back to his face and he decided how to explain himself. “Spike, I need you to work harder. I am simply not getting enough from you and if you do not begin to deliver the level of excellence I expect from you, I will be forced to give the role to another student who will.” Spike’s stomach dropped. Fired from the play? To hell with that. For the first time, he felt a real connection to something constructive and no one was going to take that away.

“So… you want me to memorize my lines faster?”

“No! Well, I mean, yes that would be great, but you have just as much time as everyone else. I just think that you should work on your lines more. You know? Really try to get into your character’s head. Do you think you can do that for me?”

“Yes. I can do that.” At least he thought he could.

“Great! I know you can. I will see you on Sunday!” Giles waved behind him as he turned back to his clipboard. Without another word, he grabbed his stuff and left with the others.

Spike was at a loss. How could he get help? Who would he get help from? He could barely understand the words, let alone begin to memorize them. He knew he was far behind the others, but he did not realize how soon he would have to catch up. But just then, he saw Buffy Summers out of the corner of his eye.

She was talking with Xander Harris and Willow Rosenberg as they were leaving. Buffy looked so happy with them, just playing and laughing. Spike smiled at the contagiousness of her sparkling grin. But he shook it off and shuddered when the ridiculousness of the sentiment occurred to him.

He was sure his plan would work as it was simple: get Buffy to help him with the play, outshine her in the performances, watch as she gets jealous of the praise he would receive and relax as the principal got off his back. Settling on this course of action, Spike quickly bundled up his jacket and backpack and ran to the three friends.

*************************************

“That is such a lie!”

“No, it is not!”

“Yes it is!” the red head exclaimed. “There is no way that Seymour and Audrey could end up together. I mean, come on! They are eaten at the end!”

“No! I’m serious, in the ‘Little Shop of Horrors’ movie, the plant is electrocuted, Seymour wins, he and Audrey get the little house in Levitt Town and there is a tiny Audrey II in the garden.” The blonde retorted.

“I can’t believe that! What is the point of changing the ending like that? It’s ridiculous!”

“It’s not ridiculous! I think its sweet!”

“Is not!”

“Is too!”

“Is no-“

“Ladies, ladies, ladies,” Xander interrupted. “We are all adults here, there’s only one way to settle this… jello wrestling.” The three teens cracked up in hysterics as they flew down the stairwell to the main entrance of the school. Spike jogged to catch up.

“Wait up!” he yelled. Xander and Willow looked at him than each other curiously. Buffy did not even turn around. Spike noticed her shudder in annoyance. “Hey guys,” he panted. He really ought to have stopped smoking.

“Hi… I guess. What’s up?” Xander asked with a furrowed brow.

“Well, I was wondering if I could speak to Buffy, actually.” Everyone was silent as they waited for her to turn around. Instead, she continued to walk forward. Willow and Xander exchanged concerned glances, but remained planted in hopes to see the drama of what might unfold. They were theater kids, after all. Spike followed her.

“What is your problem?” he demanded when he reached her. He matched her quickening pace as they made their way to the exit.

“My problem? Mine? Just leave me alone! Jeez, what does it take!” Spike ran in front of her and stopped Buffy in her tracks.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said, ok?” Buffy glared at him. “Whether you think I mean it or not doesn’t matter. But for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Ok,” she said after a long pause. She then sidestepped him and continued on her way. He jumped back in front of her. “What?”

“We’re not finished.”

“That’s funny because I thought a real, honest apology had no ulterior motive.”

“Would you just listen to me?” The pleading tone of his voice made Buffy stop talking. She decided to hear him out, at least for a little while. She nodded for him to continue. “Thank you. God, you are difficult to talk to, you know that? So, I know I haven’t been, well, you know… anyways,” he took a deep breath. “Ineedyoutohelpmewithmylines,” he mumbled.

“Excuse me?” Buffy said with her mouth open wide.

“I said… ugh, I said that I need you to help me with my lines.” Unexpectedly, the girl started giggling which caused Spike’s face to bloom red. “You know, I could have asked someone else. Anyone else. But I am asking you because,” Spike looked down and put his hands in his pockets. “I know that you are good at this stuff.” He looked up and added, “And you’re the one who wants the play to be good! It could be great even if you help me out!” Buffy’s giggling ceased as she thought over his proposal.

“Well... what do you expect me to do about it?”

“I don’t know. Help me to understand it? Explain what I’m saying?”

“I um… I-“

“It’s ok,” Spike looked down again and began to walk away. “I understand. I’ll just try to, I don’t know, figure it ou-“

“Wait!” Spike smiled before turning back to face her. She looked at him sternly and said, “Be at my house at 12:30 tomorrow and don’t be late. You have a pen?” Spike glanced at her curiously and grabbed one out of his pocket. She then proceeded to write down her address and phone number on his right arm. “That’s where I live. Be prepared to work, though.” Buffy stalked off laughing to herself.

Then, Spike looked down and realized he had given her a permanent marker.

Meanwhile, Xander and Willow exchanged knowing glances and followed their ride outside of the building. This was sure to be an interesting twist.

Spike was nervous. It was Saturday morning, the day he was supposed to work with Buffy, and he could not stop the anxiousness plaguing his stomach. He mentally practiced his lines as he crunched on his cereal. He even considered watching the movie of A Midsummer Night’s Dream just so he could be more prepared. Spike could not help himself, despite thinking he was a complete ponce for wanting to be prepared like she told him to. He just did not want to waste her time. He wanted to prove his worth as a member of the play.

And that thought disturbed him most of all.

What if he turned into one of those kids who never left the theater for fear of the actual world? What if starred in musicals, with a ridiculous smile never leaving his face and a skip in his step? Oh, the nightmares he would have. A severe chill pounded up his spine and he shuddered.

Spike thought of not going to Buffy’s. Maybe if he separated himself from the play more, he could regain his old attitude back. But for some strange reason, he didn’t want to let her down. And he was on thin ice with her anyway. Despite her inability to separate authority from her actual position in the theater department, she did hold sway and could easily have him kicked out of the play. And kicked out would mean suspension or even expulsion. His father would not be pleased with that news.

Not one tiny bit.

Spike looked over at the clock: 11:03am. He still had some time to kill before driving off to the evil ice queen’s house. She would be the death of him, he was sure of it.

*************************************

It was 1 and he still hadn’t shown up. Buffy paced her living room in annoyance. How could he do this? Make her believe he really wanted to change and then bail? She felt like such an idiot for waiting around for him to show. Instead of pacing, she decided to practice her lines by herself. Besides, she had cancelled plans with her friends to work with Spike. And there was nothing else to do.

*************************************

Spike knew he was running late and regretted falling asleep on the couch for so long. It wasn’t intentional, but he knew she would yell at him for it. Why he asked her out of everyone, he could not say. He could have asked Lorne who would have said yes in a heartbeat; Spike was beginning to wonder if he had a crush on him. But he had specifically gone to Buffy. Why?

He decided not to ponder his motives any longer, especially since he was in such a rush. He grabbed his car keys and jacket, ran out the door and sped to the location still tattooed on his arm.

Buffy’s house was a pretty, average Sunnydale home. Nevertheless, it felt more like home than his did, with its fresh garden in the front and thick trees branching heavily to shade from the afternoon sun. Spike quickly parked his car and ran to her front door. Just before he rang the bell, he saw Buffy talking to someone behind the curtain indoors. She looked very intent upon saying whatever it was that she wanted to say, and something within Spike urged him to go inside. Luckily, the door was unlocked, so he opened it and crept inside.

“…How came her eyes so bright? Not with salt tears:
If so, my eyes are oftener wash'd than hers.
No, no, I am as ugly as a bear;
For beasts that meet me run away for fear:
Therefore no marvel though Demetrius
Do, as a monster fly my presence thus.
What wicked and dissembling glass of mine
Made me compare with Hermia's sphery eyne?
But who is here? Lysander! on the ground!
Dead? or asleep? I see no blood, no wound.
Lysander if you live, good sir, awake.”

Spike stood silently in the archway to the living room. He didn’t want to speak because he thought he might ruin her practicing, but also because he was entranced by how believable she was as her character. Even after she had finished, she remained in her character. He was surprised by how good she was. Well, he had always known she was good, but he had never guessed she could perform like that. Spike inhaled quickly and startled her out of character.

“Hello, luv,” he said as he smiled at her. Unfortunately, his greeting was met with a sorry frown.

“I thought you weren’t going to show.”

“Yeah… sorry about that. I lost track of time.”

“Doing what? Spray painting your hair white?” While Buffy laughed at her cleverness, Spike insecurely smoothed his heavily gelled hair down with his hand. But before he could think of a comeback, Buffy continued. “Well, let’s get started. You’ve wasted enough time already.” Spike glared at her.

“Maybe I should go. I am just trying to be nice and civil and you are just egging me on.”

“You asked for my help, remember?”

“Yeah! But why do you have to be so aggravating?”

“I am not the aggravating one. You are!”

“Me? What did I ever do to you? Hmm? What horrible crime did I commit to you personally that makes me deserve this crap?”

“You insulted me, that’s how! You were late when I told you not to be, you joined my play when I said you shouldn’t, you make a mockery of the profession I want, you-“

“Your play?! You are off your bird, you know that? It’s not your play, it’s Giles’ play, it’s the schools’ play, least of all yours. And if you could just get off your high horse for one second, you’d see that. Oh, oh and also, I insulted you because you did it first! And I apologized. I’m just trying not to get suspended by joining the play and I asked you for help because I know I need to be better so that the play can be. All right? So stop being a right bitch, will you?”

Buffy said nothing as she pondered his words. She felt guilty for everything he mentioned, but she had never thought of it that way. To her, he was constantly on her case. It never occurred that some of it could be her fault. She nodded her head, but was unable to look him in the eye.

“Right then,” he sighed. “What now?”

“Now, we practice,” she said as she picked up her script and walked into the next room. Spike did not expect her to respond so well to his rant, so he did not move to follow her. Several moments later, Buffy came back out and shifted her head in the direction of the room.

“Are you coming?” she asked playfully. Spike nodded and followed her cautiously. Nothing could have prepared him, however, for the room he entered.

Buffy’s house was not particularly large, but the room nearing the living room was enormous. A wooden platform lined an entire side of the metallic scented area that he only assumed was an informal stage. A few chairs were set up in front of it and a few red sheets divided the house from the stage. The windows were blacked out and a few, cheap floor lights were hooked up to a small dimmer system on the side. She had made a theater out of what may have been a garage or basement at some point.

“Woah,” was all he could say. Buffy smiled and cleaned some props off of the stage.

“Thanks.”

“Did you make all of this?” he wondered aloud.

“Well, sort of,” she replied. “The wooden platform was already here for holding furniture and stuff up, I guess. For when or if it flooded? Or maybe just storage… I’m not sure. But anyway, I did the rest. You know, the curtains and lights and the chairs. It’s a great place to practice. So are you ready now?”

“Yep. Let’s get started.”

“Ok, great. Get up here then.” Spike followed her up, but began to get nervous for no reason. He tried not to let it show, but she noticed anyway.

“Are you ok?” she asked softly.

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” It came out slightly harsher than he wanted it to, but something he could not put his finger on was making him incredibly tense. Before he knew it, Buffy was holding both of his hands in front of him.

“Close your eyes.” Spike wanted to make a rude remark, but suddenly peering into the emerald pools of her eyes calmed him. He did as she asked. “Imagine you are in a forest. All of the trees are thick and green, full of mist, moss is growing and there isn’t another human being in sight. Keep imagining it and don’t open your eyes. Now, you hear some animal sounds, but they aren’t clear enough to pick out individually. The air is sparkling with something, but you can’t capture it. You hear the water in a nearby stream that leads to a waterfall. Suddenly, you see the girl of your dreams standing in the mist. She is calling to you. Keep picturing it.”

Spike was strangely entranced by his imagination. But when he saw Buffy as the girl, it turned into a nightmare. He assumed it was only because she was speaking to him. That had to be the reason. Nonetheless, he felt less nervous. He continued to focus on the picture.

“Now, you walk to her. She looks up at you and smiles. You smile back and kiss her.” Spike opened his eyes a crack and saw Buffy with her eyes shut. She continued to talk, but he stopped listening. Something strange ran through him, up and down his spine. It was freezing and heated all at once as he looked upon her form, small and fairy-like with her arms clasping his, outstretched in front of her. Without thinking, he stepped forward. He was so close he could feel her hot breath on his skin, and could smell her sensual perfume. His blood began to boil for her and he couldn’t stop it. He was only inches away from her soft, supple lips when-

“Now open your eyes,” she interrupted his line of thought. Spike tried to move back without her noticing, but she opened her own too quickly. Her eyes grew wide and her mouth opened slightly in confusion.

“Oh, um, sorry... I, uh, you…” Spike searched his brain for a lie, any lie that would work, until he said the first statement that came to mind. “You have something on your face.”

“Oh…” she said embarrassed as she wiped furiously at her mouth. “Is it gone?”

“Yeah...” Both overwhelmed and bewildered by his behavior, Spike felt the need to leave as soon as possible. “Buffy, look, I have to go. I just... I have to. I’m sorry.” He swiftly ran out of the room, up the stairs, out the door and into his car. He sat there for several minutes in silence before he started it up and drove away.

Buffy stood awkwardly in her theater wondering what she did wrong.

Tuesday

A few weeks had passed. Buffy was still curious to find out what had happened, what she had done wrong, when Spike came over her home to practice, but did not push it. This was made immensely easier due to Spike’s consistent ignorance of her presence in both school and rehearsals. But as the days came and went, she grew more and more angry at him. How dare he ignore her? Who did he think he was? He came to her for help, she tried to and he bailed.

Spike, on the other hand, was frustrated with Buffy. How could she do this to him? Every day, there she was taunting him with her eyes and shampoo commercial hair… It had to end.

Besides, Giles was beginning to notice Spike’s lack of improvement.

The show was only a month away and he still had no grasp on his character. In his opinion, Lysander was just a ponce with tights, prancing around spouting poetry about the love of his life. Although Willow was sweet enough, there wasn’t any chemistry between them. No spark.

So, he would ask Buffy one more time to help him and he would keep himself in control. After all, she was only a girl.

*************************************

“Buffy! Buffy, wait!” Spike yelled after Buffy. She turned around and glared at him.

“What is wrong with you? How can you ask me to help you after bailing on me the last time?”

“Well, you must have found a reason the first time?” he pleaded. They had argued for ten straight minutes about this and Spike felt no closer than when he started.

“I thought I saw something in you. I thought maybe you had changed or that you really wanted to change-“

“I do!”

“But you don’t,” she said quietly. Spike stood awkwardly in front of her. “Look, I believe you want the help, I do. But you don’t really care about anything and you are wasting my time. I am sick and exhausted of arguing and fighting with you. Just… just don’t talk to me anymore, ok?” Buffy sighed as Spike subconsciously nodded. She turned and walked around three steps before he stopped her.

“Wait!” Buffy turned once more and looked at him wearily. As Spike stared into those emerald depths sparkling in the fluorescents, every fiber of his being urged him closer.

Words fell from her luscious lips and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her and did not want to analyze it too closely.

“What?” she asked, slightly stronger in annoyance, breaking Spike out of his trance. He couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Um… I…” he stammered and searched for an explanation. “Ok, um, I uh…”

“What?!”

“I will do anything for you.” His blunt words surprised Buffy and himself equally. Nonetheless, he continued. “I mean, anything you want, I’ll do it. Just say the words. Look, I need your help. I’m sick of arguing too, so let’s just… not. Please, help me?” Buffy bit her lip and pondered his point; Spike tilted his head, thinking how absolutely adorable she looked doing so. He shook away the thought and tried to give the best puppy dog eyes he could muster.

“Ok. Come to my house afterschool on Thursday. There isn’t any rehearsal, so it should work out.”

“But what do you want in return?” he asked warily as she smiled softly.

“I’ll let you know.”

*************************************
Spike lounged around the auditorium watching the others turn to rehearse. Xander and Lorne were sitting and chatting behind him. In his boredom, he started eavesdropping on their conversation, but one particular sentences caught his attention.

“…and I heard Angel is going to ask Buffy out after rehearsal today!” Lorne said over excitedly.

“No way!” Xander said in the same tone. “How do you know?

“I have my ways…”

“What, are you psychic?”

“Maybe,” he laughed. “No, but really, I think they would make such a cute couple, don’t you?”

Buffy and Angel were practicing one of their scenes on the stage. She looked like an angel: ethereal in her white, spring dress and silver headband. Then for the first time, Spike noticed Angel leering at her and his blood began to boil. He could not understand why, but a wave of fury rushed over him. Spike wanted to tear out the great poof’s neck for looking at Buffy that way.

“Yeah, they definitely would be a great couple.” Xander replied. To his surprise, Spike growled in front of him. “Um, Spike? Something wrong?” he asked nervously, hoping that the culprit of his animalistic snarl was not he. Spike swerved around to face the couple.

“Yes, something is wrong. What the hell do you mean that big jerk is going to ask Buffy out? In what universe would they make a good couple? Hmm?” Xander wanted to laugh and Spike’s obvious attraction to his friend, but didn’t for fear of the fire in his eyes.

“Um… I mean, well, they do look cute. Look,” he point toward the stage. Spike followed the direction of his pointing and stared at Helena and Demetrius.

“…You spend your passion on a mispris'd
mood:
I am not guilty of Lysander's blood,
Nor is he dead, for aught that I can tell.” Angel spoke proudly.
“I pray thee, tell me then that he is well.”
“An if I could, what should I get there-
fore?”
“A privilege never to see me more.
And from thy hated presence part I so;
See me no more, whether he be dead or no.”Then, she left the stage in heated tears.
“There is no following her in this fierce
vein-“ he said before Giles interrupted him, telling the cast that they were out of time and would resume the scene the next day. Everyone clapped for a day well done.

Everyone, that is, except for Spike, smiling mischievously in the house.

“Hey Buffy, wait up babe!” Angel yelled as she walked out the auditorium door. Spike stood up and blocked his way before he had the chance to catch her attention.

“Where you going, mate?” Spike asked politely, but with a hint of malice in his words.

“Sorry, can’t talk right now.” He tried to move around, but Spike sidestepped him.

“I think you have some time to chat.” He glared menacingly at the jock, whose badass demeanor was slowly fading into fear.

“Um,” he stared off where Buffy had left, then looked down dejectedly. Spike had many times intimidated others into seeing things his way, but took particular pleasure in bringing down the jock swagger a few notches. “Ok… What’s up?”

“So, I hear you are gonna ask Summers out?”

“Who, Buffy?” a goofy smile lined his face. “Yeah, well, I was going to ‘til you showed up.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, mate.”

“Why not? You think she’ll go for you instead? You?” When Spike didn’t say anything, Angel laughed in his face. “You do! You like her! Oh, this is rich.”

“I already had her.” He lied bluntly. Angel’s jaw dropped.

“What? No way.”

“Seriously. I’m only telling you this to warn you, but she has gone some problems. Like, when she starts dating someone, she becomes a total stalker. I’m talking writing on notebooks, dreams, waiting outside your house, clinging...”

“What?” he asked disbelievingly.

“She just sits outside your house, crying if you talk to other girls, never leaving. It’s the worst.”

“Holy crap! Oh, that’s ridiculous!”

“Just thought I’d warn you. Didn’t want you to find out like me.” Spike smiled and raised an eyebrow.

“No, thanks man. I owe you one.” Spike could hear Angel mumbling “jeez” a few times before leaving the theater. For a moment, he felt like a jerk for saying that about her, but she would thank him when she didn’t end up with a jerk jock-head like Angel Feins.

*************************************

On Thursday, Spike was significantly excited to meet with Buffy that afternoon. He could keep himself in control. He figured the only reason for his so-called attraction was that he hadn’t had a girl since Faith.

Faith used to be his best friend. Then, she started dating a senior named Kevin Doyle and stopped hanging out with him. Kevin seemed like a nice enough guy, so Spike didn’t think much about him. But one day, Faith knocked on his door with a black eye and he swore vengeance. Faith told him that Kevin was really just trying to help her, but Spike did not see it that way.

In fear of her boyfriend finding her, she crashed at Spike’s house for a week or so. On the last night, they both got very drunk and slept together. While he felt horrible about the situation, Faith pretended it never happened. She never found out that it was his first time and out of fear of rejection, he never told her. He assumed something was wrong with him because after that day, she stopped speaking to him.

He found out later that Faith crawled back to Kevin. Spike heard a bunch of girls talking about him and Faith, and how she “did” him out of pity. Heartbroken, Spike began to act out in school, trying to become the badass he thought she wanted. He refused to ever be the punch line of a joke ever again.

To his devastation, Faith moved in with Kevin and they ran away. After that, he never lost the reputation. His lost his old friends when he began wearing leather coats and black boots, bleaching his hair, painting his nails black and started hanging with the greasers of the school. Sometimes, he was disgusted at who he had become, but being a big fish in a small pond had its advantages.

And no one had messed with him since.

So, it only made sense that he would want Buffy. She was the first person to stand up to him since Faith. And now he had to focus on the task as opposed to the girl. Easy.

The school day was typical: boring material, teachers with god-complexes and dumb jocks ramming into the small freshman for fun. However, this particular never seemed to end. So, when the final bell rang, Spike thanked the lord, grabbed his backpack and bolted out the door to his car. When he reached her house he knocked on the door a few times, but there was no answer. Running his hands over his rock-hard gelled hair, he looked around for a sign of Buffy. Spike took out his cell and noticed that school had only ended ten minutes prior. Feeling stupid, he walked back to his beat up, black DeSoto and leaned on the hood. He lit a cigarette and tried not to think about his actions too carefully. He feared what he would find if he analyzed his thoughts, so he ignored the nagging feeling that grew by the day.

He saw a school bus squeak and stop directly in front of her house. A peppy Buffy bounced out of it and to her front door without noticing the dark figure in her driveway. She shoved her key in the front door and hummed prettily, jerking the key around until it clicked.

“Hello, luv.” Buffy jumped and screamed in surprise, and in the process accidently smacked Spike in the face. He fell back first onto the grass and rubbed his nose. “What the hell?!” he asked nasally, sprawled across the ground.

“Oh my god! I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t mean to, I swear.” Buffy ran and sat down beside him, blocking out the sun above them. Maybe it was the tears streaming from his eyes, but the sun made it look like she had a halo. She was glowing and he felt the same emotional urge to stroke her face, to kiss her, anything. He tried to push down the feeling as far as it could go, but it kept surfacing.

“Don’t touch it! Let me see,” she said in a motherly tone. Spike tried to keep his fingers on his bruising nose, but she lightly smacked them away. Buffy leaned so close to his face that he could feel her sweet breath on his neck. He closed his eyes so he could focus on anything but the urges within him, but it only served to focus on nothing but the smell of her. Her skin smelled like vanilla and cherry blossoms; he was drowning in her.

When Spike opened his eyes again, she was only an inch or two from his lips. He sparkling green eyes stared wide into his. Buffy carefully stroked his hurt nose, checking for something she did not have the ability to detect. The tip of her finger unconsciously moved to stroke his lush bottom lip. Neither said anything for a few minutes until Buffy stood up and walked to her front door without turning back around.

“Are you coming?”

“In a minute…”

“Are you coming?”

“In a minute…”

*************************************

Spike followed her inside to the familiar stage room. A sudden nervousness crept over him as he recalled the last time he was in the room with Buffy. After taking off his shoes, he padded over to the same spot they were previously in. She was waiting for him there, smiling awkwardly and not recognizing the moment back on the grass. Spike followed her lead and said nothing.

“Alright,” she finally spoke. “Since you really didn’t seem to like the exercise I tried last time, I think we should just get into the text.”

“I meant to tell you, I’m sorry about that. You see, I-“

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just move on.” Buffy grabbed her script from a short bookshelf he hadn’t noticed the last time. It was stuffed to the brim with plays: Christopher Durang, Machiavelli, Shakespeare, Arthur Miller, etc. It was planted next to a small keyboard against the wall with hand-written music strewn across the keys. It was incredible how into theater she was. He wished he could be even half as passionate about something. She was lucky to know what she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

“So… you want to act for a living, then?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh my god, yes. I want it so badly. I remember when I was, like, five or so, I was acting in this play and I didn’t really like it very much. I was the month of February, which is obviously the most important being 28 days and all… But anyway, I refused to go on stage. Like, absolutely refused! But then my teacher pushed me on the stage. I took one look at that audience, all in the spotlight and breathing it all in…” her eyes clouded over in a dream-like state as she moved furniture around. “I mean, some people look at great masterpieces and see the deeper significance, but it felt like being inside the painting, living in all the colors and beauty that real world couldn’t provide. And ever since then, I just can’t leave. In fact, sometimes I-“

Buffy glanced up at Spike and broke out of her personal trance. His head was tilted to the side, mesmerized by her infatuated speech. When she spoke of theater, she looked… effulgent. Even if not one beam of light hit her, he swore she would glow in the pitch dark with the light that shone from her eyes in ardor. She was fascinating and he had no words to tell her.

“Sorry, sometimes I get carried away,” Buffy giggled from embarrassment without taking in Spike’s intrigued facial expression.

“No… That was great. Really.” She squinted her eyes wondering if he was serious, then smiled.

“You’re a bad liar, but thanks anyway. Now, let’s work. Ok?”

“Ok…” He ignored the nervous urge to run his hand over his gelled hair again.

“Ok. I’ll be Hermia so we can get some of your bigger lines in. Let’s start with,” she flipped through the play biting her lip adorably. “Nay, good Lysander; for my sake, my dear,
Lie further off yet, do not lie so near.”

For a moment, Spike said nothing. He was too focused on the graceful movement of her body than the meaning in her words. When she gave him the I’m waiting face, he shook his head and continued.

“O, take the sense, sweet, of my innocence!
Love takes the meaning in love's conference-“

“No, no, no,” Buffy interrupted. “You can’t just say it in this monotone! Think about the words. Do you know what they mean?” Spike said nothing. “Ok, we’ll go line by line. What comes next?”

“I mean, that my heart unto yours is knit
So that but one heart we can make of it;
Two bosoms interchained with an oath;”

“Alright. This line is basically saying that Lysander is in love with Hermia and no bond could break them. See? Their hearts are metaphorically being sewn together with the bonds of love. That’s the oath part. Keep going.”

“So then two bosoms and a single troth.
Then by your side no bed-room me deny;
For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie.”

“Well, what do you think that means?” Buffy encouraged him to respond.

“Um… that they will have sex in the bedroom?” She laughed heartily and shook her head.

“No! Well, I mean, kind of. But it’s saying that the two of them will forever be by each other’s side. And no matter what happens, because their two hearts are one, they cannot be separated no matter what. Then there is a play on words at the end, ‘lying’ and ‘lie’? Of course, everyone’s interpretation is different. If it means something different to you, go with it. It’s part of the beauty of Shakespeare: that everyone gets their own emotional impact from the same words.” Spike nodded feeling like idiot compared to Buffy.

“Lysander riddles very prettily:” she continued.
“Now much beshrew my manners and my pride,
If Hermia meant to say Lysander lied.
But, gentle friend, for love and courtesy
Lie further off; in human modesty,
Such separation as may well be said
Becomes a virtuous bachelor and a maid,
So far be distant; and, good night, sweet friend:
Thy love ne'er alter till thy sweet life end!”

Buffy was only standing about a foot away from him, once again sending his senses into overdrive.

“So, what did I just say?” she said breathily, also reacting to their closeness. The electricity between them made the room seem to fizzle, then blur away entirely. Only the two of them existed

“Amen,” he said only an inch or two away and moving closer. “Amen, to that fair prayer, say I;
And then end life when I end loyalty!
Here is my bed: sleep give thee all his rest!” Losing control entirely, Spike gave in and kissed her passionately. Oh, how he wanted her. His flesh stung with sensation, his body on fire from her touch. He had never experienced anything like it, not with Faith or his ex Drusilla.

Buffy was surprised to say the least, but for the first time in her life, she could feel every fiber in her body come alive at once. Although the kiss was not harsh, it was full of need and unresolved tension. Her eyes fluttered closed as she relaxed in his comforting, muscular arms.

At first, Spike feared she would push him away and make him leave the house. Yet she let go of herself for a moment to be with him. Eventually, he broke apart from her and immediately felt a coldness he never realized existed. He blindly stroked her cheek, feeling a small remnant of the moment they had shared. She leaned into his hand softly and Spike reveled in it.

Buffy opened her eyes first, giggling because she did not know what else to do. Spike wasn’t sure whether to be angry or laugh along with her, but she decided for him when she smiled brilliantly under one of the small stage lights.

“Shall we, um, continue?” he stuttered.

“Yeah…” she replied anxiously. Where were we?”

*************************************

The rest of their time together was all work and no play. Buffy explained the lines to him and he complied to her every demand, even to the theater exercises that seemed incredibly idiotic.

But when she said goodbye and waved him out the door, Spike could not leave her lawn. He was compelled to stay with her, although he was not sure why. He was starting to notice a pattern in his actions in conjunction with Buffy. It was then that he realized he had left his shoes inside. Grateful for a proper reason to reenter the house, he went to the front door and knocked. Several knocks later, there was still no answer. Because it was still open he decided to quickly sneak in and out since no one had really let him in this time.

Tiptoeing as quiet as he could to the small theater basement, he heard music from inside. Spike heard a voice singing over the keyboard and was surprised to find that it was Buffy’s voice. He knew she was into theater and he should have assumed she could sing, but it never occurred to him to ask. Not even after seeing the keyboard.

“…Falling from view
Did you ever touch me,
Floating through your potpourri?
I thought I felt your fingers once
After waiting all these months

She was amazing! He was grateful once again that she did not notice his entrance into the room so he could enjoy the moment: a moment that may never have occurred if she knew of his presence.

”But I was wrong, so wrong
That was just another song you wrote, for another girl
And I hoped the day could be
When you'd write a song for me

But it never came,
I thank you all the same,
But I'll go now, so you won't know how much I've

Fallen for you,
Pointless trying to be a man
Boy, you don't know if you can
I thought I knew you well enough
But your walls are still too tough”

Spike wondered who had inspired the song. It was certainly powerful in both its melody and lyric. The same irritating feeling in his stomach made him want to hurt the one who hurt her. And then it hit him.

”But I was wrong, so wrong
That was just another song you wrote, for another girl
And I hoped the day could be
When you'd write a song for me

But it never came,
I thank you all the same,
But I'll go now, so you won't know how much I

Thought about you all the time,
Walking round, the Guggenheim.
Like a rhyme, in my mind,
There you are, in my car,
But we don't drive very far.
To the beach, out of reach
Next to me... my fantasy”

He was in love with her. There was no mistake about it. The feelings he had been trying to hide, to force down and away, his incredible attraction to her and his inability to control his actions when she was near. Spike was in love with Buffy. Buffy, who was currently closing her eyes in complete focus and making every syllable on the pages in front of her come alive. The more she sang, the clearer it all became.

“Falling for you
Did you ever see me,
Watching from periphery?
I was playing another game
I hoped you catch on all the same.”

Buffy opened her eyes, and Spike noticed the familiar red tint surrounding them. He was drawn to comfort her, but he knew she wouldn’t appreciate him sneaking in to hear her possibly private music. He quickly scooped his shoes in his arms and bolted to his car as quickly as he could, panting when he got outside.

Buffy thought she heard something, but nothing was there. She was all alone, again. And for some reason she wished Spike were still in the room with her.

The next day, Spike was at a loss as to how he would act around Buffy. He had accepted his feelings for her, but all they had ever done was argue. It all seemed so ridiculous: the games they played. But he needed to find out if she felt the same way. And if she did not feel similarly… he supposed it was to be expected considering his last experience with Faith. That insecurity ran deep inside him, causing a nervousness he could not control.

And what if she did like him back? What then? Would they go out or keep it hidden? Spike’s friends were not the most accepting of people, especially glorified geeks like Buffy Summers. He didn’t want to drop his friends necessarily, but at this point there was no contest where his emotions were concerned. It was a sad fact he would have to endure if that is what it came to.

Finally, he came to the frightening conclusion that he should ask her out on a date. If she said no, he would play it cool and hide the immense frustration and melancholy her rejection would cause. If she said yes, well, he would take her out and all would be well in the beginning.

But what if she found the same deficiencies in Spike that made Faith leave? He couldn’t think like that. He had to focus on his mission. The get-Buffy-Summers-to-be-my-girlfriend mission.

With that in mind, Spike puffed up his chest and went to school.

*************************************

Buffy was in a rush.

The bus had come late again and her first period teacher was not going to be pleased. It was the first sign that it would not be a good day, but Buffy decided to ignore the usual morning pessimism and be excited instead.

The moment she had shared with Spike seemed almost unreal. They had kissed! She and Spike Williams, badass extraordinaire and official pain in her specific backside, had made with the smoochies. What were they supposed to do now? Their entire relationship was based on mutual hatred and arguing. But now…

What if it was all on purpose? What if Spike was planning on getting her to fall in love with him only to drop her headfirst the second he got the chance? She didn’t want to think that way, but considering their background, there was a distinct possibility of a bad outcome.

She waved her thoughts away a second time. What would happen would happen, whether she liked it or not. Although she loved the theater, she hated the drama queen concept that followed her around, despite her best efforts to stay positive. She was always waiting for people to disappoint her. But Spike seemed like he had changed.

After all, Spike had some initiative and was really trying to get on her good side. Maybe he really liked her.

Maybe she really liked him.

With that in mind, Buffy ran to first period. She opened the door, smiled apologetically at the teacher and walked quickly to her seat. Luckily, it was in the back so she could hide her face from her teacher. Stupid teacher with his stupid accusing eyes…

Just then, she heard a soft knock on the door. She looked through the doors’ tiny window and saw Spike smiling goofily and waving. Buffy tried not to giggle, but the look on his face was priceless. Unexpectedly, Spike walked into the classroom and addressed the teacher.

“Mr. DuMark, I need to speak with Miss Summers quickly.”

“For what?” he asked sternly.

“School project. Very important. It will only take a second.” After a very disgruntled noise from her teacher, he motioned his hand in the direction of the hallway. Buffy smiled gratefully and shuffled outside.

When she was sure the door was completely closed, Buffy moved closer to Spike with a funny smile on her face. “Why Mr. Williams, what are you doing here this fine morning?”

“Oh, you know, just saying hello?” he said with his hands in his tight pockets.

“Is that so?”

“Oh, you know… it is…”

“Way to ruin the rhyme scheme,” she giggled. “So, what’s really up? Shouldn’t you be in class or spray painting the lockers with penises?”

“Hey!” he exclaimed angrily, but he could not hide his smile. “I’ll have you know that I have… a free period! Yeah, free period now.”

“A free period?” she said. He nodded almost honestly. “First period?” His nods slowed considerably. “So why are you even at school?” she spoke with a laugh.

“I, um… Look, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Aren’t we talking now?”

“Ugh, woman! Let me talk!” Spike said jokingly, eliciting a smile from Buffy.

“You are the one with the muddled thoughts. You should try flushing your own head down the toilet sometime. Maybe it’ll sort your thoughts out.” Buffy laughed loudly.
“Alright, alright.” He took a deep breath, and began, “I wanted to know, if you, you know, wanted to, maybe-“ he was interrupted by the door reopening.

“Miss Summers, are you quite finished?” Mr. DuMark said angrily. Buffy nodded and shrugged apologetically to Spike.

“We’ll talk later,” he mouthed, slightly disappointed. As Buffy was shuffled back into the classroom, he had an idea to amuse Buffy. And since he had nothing else important to do…

Spike ran to the men’s room and soaked his hair in the sink water. The thick gel keeping his hair together dripped all over the floor as he ran back out. He wrote largely on a notebook page and knocked softly on the door for a second time. At first, Buffy didn’t hear, but after a few more knocks increasing in sound she looked at him in surprise. Spike shoved the notebook onto the window of the door and watched as Buffy tried to contain her laughter. When Mr. DuMark looked at the door, Spike ducked down causing Buffy to let loose an unladylike bark of laughter for he had written: It didn’t work.

Buffy continued to hold back her laughter after Spike left. She supposed they were friends for the time being, which was better than most of the scenarios that ran through her head on the bus ride to school.

Spike crawled away, both pleased with his success at making her laugh and angry that he was so completely whipped. His frustration multiplied, however, when he realized that his perfectly gelled hair was curling and sticking out in every direction.

Spike’s leg jackhammered beneath his desk for the entirety of last period. It wasn’t nervousness this time, but rather excitement for rehearsal. This was the day he would ask Buffy out and he was pretty sure she would agree. And if she didn’t, he was sure he could somehow persuade her to see things his way.

He wouldn’t tell her the depth of his feelings yet, though. He feared she would back away if she knew what he was really only beginning to grasp.

Every time he looked at the clock, it seemed to inch farther away from 2:30. The teacher was discussing his secretly favorite subject, poetry, but he could not even pay attention. Buffy, buffy, buffy pulsed in his head with every silent tick of the clock. He hadn’t seen her all day and was itching to. He craned his neck as his mental irritation from waiting turned into physical pain.

Like a godsend, the bell rang and Spike bolted. He pictured her glowing face, happy to see him and excited to go out with him. He smiled as he ran to the auditorium, his books and papers slowly falling out of his hands. When they finally toppled over and scattered, William considered leaving them there, but realized he needed them for his classes… which were important as well.

As he collected his books and things, he realized it had suddenly become very dark. He looked up to find the cause only to find Buffy staring down at him. Spike stood up as manly as he could, but felt the air punched out of his stomach when he saw Buffy’s face in the light.

Her cheeks were splotchy and matched the red rims of her eyes. It looked like she had been crying for hours. It was Spike’s initial reaction to kick whoever made his Buffy feel this way.

“You big, bleached jerk!” she yelled between choking sobs. Spike’s confused was etched on his face.

“Me? What did I do?!” he demanded incredulously.

“You! You have ruined everything!” Buffy sniffled loudly and swiftly wiped a few new tears on her cheeks. “Y-you know, I t-thought you had really changed. I though y-y-you liked me, maybe. But now I see you and you are exactly who I t-thought you were!” Buffy wiped more tears away until she could see his face properly.

“I do like you, Buffy! In fact, I was just coming to-“

“Stop lying to me! All day, everyone I came in contact with either laughed in my face of snickered when they thought I wasn’t looking. You see, I thought it was just the usual bullshit rumors, but no, it was something much, much worse. I have been called a slut, a whore,” Buffy counted them on her fingers as she glared menacingly into the eyes of her betrayer, “a cock tease and an idiot by half the student body and I kept wondering, ‘why, Buffy? Why is this happening?’ That’s until Angel himself told me what you said to him: things that he repeated in the locker room and comments that played telephone across the student body. You fucking asshole! You lied to me and about me!”

Spike’s dumbstruck look turned into one of profound guilt.

“Buffy, I-“

“Don’t speak to me. Don’t call me. Don’t ask me for fucking help you fucking loser!” She pushed past him half crazed and crying. In one last attempt to make her understand, he did the first thing that came to his mind.

“Please, Buffy!” He grabbed her arm and pulled her closer for a kiss, but she slapped his face before he had the chance.

“Don’t you EVER touch me again,” she growled between clenched teeth. Spike’s face stung, but not as much as the turmoil in his gut. He hated himself for making her cry, but he didn’t know what else to do. Buffy lurched her arm from his grasp.

“Goodbye, Lysander!” she yelled to the growing crowd. Spike’s jaw dropped in disbelief. He saw several of his old friends snickering to one another, and his eyes began to tear. Pushing through the crowd, he found his way to his car and floored it.

……………………

Buffy wanted to leave and never come back to Sunnyhell, but she knew she needed to go to rehearsal. Unusually, she wasn’t even angry at Spike for skipping out. She felt like she needed the rest, not to mention every cast and crew member heard her little speech and would probably egg her on to see a rematch. Buffy was tired of high school and could not wait for the professional world where things didn’t get so complicated.

Fortunately, Giles had no clue what was going on, so she could rehearse in peace.

……………………

Spike had no idea where he was headed. The signs on the side of the road blurred together as he sped somewhere far away. He found it odd that on top of feeling like the biggest jackass in the world, he felt worse for skipping rehearsal.

He knew he said those things to Angel out of jealousy, but he didn’t think Angel would spread it around. He kept going over it in his head…

“I already had her.” He lied bluntly. Angel’s jaw dropped.
“What? No way.”
“Seriously. I’m only telling you this to warn you, but she has gone some problems. Like, when she starts dating someone, she becomes a total stalker. I’m talking writing on notebooks, dreams, waiting outside your house, clinging...”
“What?” he asked disbelievingly.
“She just sits outside your house, crying if you talk to other girls, never leaving. It’s the worst.”
“Holy crap! Oh, that’s ridiculous!”
“Just thought I’d warn you. Didn’t want you to find out like me.” Spike smiled and raised an eyebrow.
“No, thanks man. I owe you one.”

It seemed like a lifetime ago. In fact, had Angel not ruined everything so perfectly, Spike might have forgotten it entirely. Suddenly, it occurred to him that, from what Buffy yelled, Angel must have pinched in a bit of his own rumor spice to his story. The bastard!

The more he analyzed both his conversation with Angel and his spout with Buffy, however, he realized that it was really all his fault. He ruined everything. Angel certainly didn’t help much, but Spike planted the seeds that caused his own destruction. This always happened to him.

And then it hit him like a concrete wall. He was turning into Faith.

Not in the specifics of what she did to him, but rather that he used Buffy just like Faith used him. Faith made him believe that she loved him then left him. She made his life a living hell by spreading the rumors that confined him today.

And poor Buffy… The only girl he ever truly cared for and he left her to fend for herself. ‘What a useless git I’ve turned out to be’ Spike thought to himself.

With that in mind, Spike swerved his car around, almost flipping it in the process, and floored it back to the school. No. He would not let Buffy be the punch line. He did not want her to suffer.

But then again, he didn’t know how to make it right.

……………………

Buffy could barely focus on her lines. She stumbled and forgot important phrases throughout rehearsal. She could tell Giles was getting fed up with her, but he also knew how diligent she usually was. Buffy figured that Giles would assume she was having a particularly bad day. Which was the case.

She was also having a hard time focusing because Angel wouldn’t stop staring and leering at her. Buffy had rolled her eyes until she could simply roll them no longer. She also was tired of blaming Angel for something that Spike did, and Angel told the truth unlike Spike. She had always known the scumbag crew who were Spike’s “friends,” but Buffy told herself that maybe he was different.

And she was right. He was worse.

So, why had he been nice to her? What did he have to gain from the experience other than watching her suffer? Maybe, he just saw the opportunity and could help himself. Maybe-

“Miss Summers, I mean it in all sincerity when I say that you need to leave my stage and go home. Now.”

“What?” Buffy asked in a mixture of bewilderment and fear.

“Leave. Now. You obviously aren’t emotionally prepared for today’s rehearsal and can therefore be of no use to this cast today. I do not wish to waste time knowing you cannot focus on the task at hand. So, I say once more, go home.”

Buffy had a strong urge to stamp her foot and throw a tantrum, but knowing that Giles was right, she nodded glumly and left the stage.

“Right then. Shall we continue?” He shouted articulately.

Buffy found her backpack and jacket in a daze and walked out. She was never asked to leave a rehearsal in her life, but even then, she was sick of blaming Spike for everything. This was all her fault because she let him in. She let him play her. She deserved to be kicked out her real home and sent to her actual house.

Too bad she didn’t have a car.

Just then, she saw Angel out of the corner of her eye. Too tired to deal with the opposite sex, Buffy shook her head. “No, Angel. Not now.”

“But, you don’t even know what I’m going to say!” he exclaimed like a twelve year-old. Buffy looked him over curiously and nodded. “Right. So, I was wondering if-“

“Do you want to go out with me, Angel?” she spoke exhaustedly.

“Hellz yeah!” Buffy cringed at the random “z” in his expression, but let it go. She wrote her number on a ripped piece of notebook paper and gave it to him without facing him.

“Call me.”

“Ok, great! We’ll have a great time Buffy,” Angel said goofily. Buffy smiled a bit. Well, he was certainly a change from the constant cloud over Spike’s head.

Angel put the slip of paper in his pocket and yelled goodbye as he ran back inside. Buffy wondered if it was a good idea to bother with him, but she thought what the hell? Why not.

Buffy dialed her mother’s number, waiting to hear the wrath on the other line.

……………………

Spike decided to park behind the building in case he needed to make a speedy getaway. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say exactly, but he figured the words would come to him naturally.

He wished that he could go back in time and not say those lies to Angel, but then the great ponce would have asked out his girl. And she would have said yes! Spike couldn’t have had that. No, it was necessary at the time. But now, it felt like his world was crumbling. He needed to set it right again.

He wondered how such a tiny girl could have such a vast affect on his life.

Running up the stairwell, Spike felt a few butterflies churning in his stomach. He reached the auditorium just as rehearsal let out and searched for Buffy, but she was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she had gone home early. But she had never, would never, leave rehearsal early if she could help it. He admittedly didn’t know her extremely well, but he knew her that much.

It was then that he saw Angel bouncing out of the auditorium. ‘What is he so happy about?’ he wondered. Spike rolled up his sleeves and bounded after the man who ruined everything, praying that he’d at least get to smack the guy across the face.

“You bastard!”

“Me? What did I do?”

“You told all those lies about her!” Spike yelled, trying not to let the desperate whine in his voice come through.

“You’re the one who said she slept with you. What was it, oh yeah, you said she ‘just sits outside your house, crying if you talk to other girls, never leaving. It’s the worst’?” Angel crossed his arms defiantly, but was itching to leave his sight. Spike hesitated.

“I just told you that because… well-“

“In fact, I talked to Faith the other day. Remember your good friend Faith? Well, she remembers you and not Buffy. You guys were never together! You’re the liar here, not me, man.”

Spike didn’t know how to respond. Faith spoke to Angel? The biggest jerk in the school, and she chose to talk to him instead. Then, the end of the message hit.

“You’re the one who spread rumors about Buffy being a slut!” Spike retaliated.

“I never did that,” Angel said with a satisfied smile.

“You… you are a fucking-“

“Ah ah ah, Spikey. Don’t call your fellow cast members names. It ruins all this cast bonding we’ve put in place.”

“Take it back.” Spike said in dead monotone.

“Take what back?” he said, genuinely curious.

“Everything you said about her. Take it back and tell everyone what a complete bastard you are.”

“I think you need a reality check cause… Wait, do you have a crush on her? Is that what this is all about?” Spike’s silence told him everything he needed to. “Oh my god, that’s it! You told me that stuff so I wouldn’t go out with her? Well, guess what buddy, I’m going out with her anyway. She’s a fine piece of ass,” Angel was only inches from his face in attempt to be threatening, “and now I’m going to fuck her into next week just because you want her.”

“What is your damage?!” Spike yelled, rage boiling in his blood.

“Mine? My damage, oh this is priceless. I’m going out with her now.”

“If you like her so much, why did you spread those rumors? Huh?”

“Well, if you can make up stories, then I can too. It’s a free country. Oh wait, I want to be more like you, ‘Oh, I’m a badass wannabe and I want the theater geek!’” The boy was too caught up in his mockery to notice the fist flying directly at his nose.

“Don’t you EVER talk about Buffy that way!” Spike only saw red. No one talked about his Buffy that way. He was so completely possessed by his fury he didn’t even notice continuing to pummel Angel.

“STOP! Stop! What are you doing?!” Buffy screamed as she ran into the auditorium where she had left her book. Her mother had to drive all the way home and back again only for her to witness Spike kicking Angel’s ass. Spike looked up at her in shock and backed away from the squealing boy. “What is your damage?!” she demanded, eliciting a chuckle from Angel.

“I-“

“First you spread rumors about me, then you beat up an innocent guy!” Angel did his best puppy dog impression as his eyes “watered” in a manly way.

“Buffy, he was-“

“I don’t want to hear it Spike. I just want to go home.” She helped the bruised jock to his feet and walked him sadly to the front door.

Spike was utterly confused with the events of the day, with the exception of Angel being a total jackass. He wanted to fight for Buffy, but he didn’t know how.

He was at a loss.

……………………

The second drive home was quiet. Buffy’s mother Joyce was slightly unnerved by it considering her daughter was typically a chatterbox.

“Are you alright, sweetie?”

“I’m fine,” she replied nonchalantly. But Joyce was in no way convinced.

“You know you can tell me anything, honey, and you know I’m not going to let it go so you might as well explain it to me,” she said half jokingly. There was a large pause before Buffy decided it was in her best interest to explain herself.

“Basically, there is this boy who is in the play with me and at first I thought he was a jerk, but then it turned out he was actually pretty sweet, but now I realize that he’s exactly the jerk I originally thought he was, but for some reason I want to be with him anyway, not the badass thing, but just him, the way I think he really is, but now there’s this other guy who asked me out and I said yes but I didn’t really want to because I, well... You know?” Joyce was silent as she attempted to process Buffy’s explanation

“Well…” Joyce began. “How do you feel about the first guy?”

“I just told you, I like him.”

“But he’s a jerk?” Joyce asked. Buffy paused for effect.

“Yes. He beat up the second guy. And spread rumors about me.”

“Why would he do things like that?”

“I don’t know… I mean, I always knew he had this jerk reputation, but aside from the occasional graffiti, he didn’t do very much. Not until now, or that I noticed.”

“And how does he feel about you?” Joyce was incredibly confused, but tried to keep up by asking questions.

“I don’t know, he’s up he’s down. Sometimes I think he likes me back and other times… I just don’t know.”

“And what did he say about all of this? Did he have any kind of explanation?”

“Can we not talk about this? Please, mom?” Buffy refused to consider it. He spread rumors about her of the nastiest kind, and there was no coming back from that in the Buffy’s book. Joyce nodded in defeat, wishing she knew what to do to make things better.
……………………

Spike raided his parent’s liquor cabinet and grabbed the first handle he could find. Drinking straight from the bottle, Spike wandered through his house knowing no one would be home for several hours. Everything was such a mess and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. He considered never speaking to Buffy again, but the thought made his heart ache dully in his chest. Since it seemed that was out of the question, drinking made the most sense as a backup plan.
……………………

Spike looked at his watch for the thirtieth time, but still could not understand the roman numerals, especially in the pitch-black night.

It has to be at least midnight, Spike thought as he stood on the Summers’ front lawn. He couldn’t remember how long he’d been walking or how he even got there, but there he was, looking up at what he assumed was Buffy’s window.

“Buffy!” He attempted to whisper. When there was no response, he tried again. “Buffy! I’m here,” Spike slurred. It was then that he saw the tree growing near her window, which gave him a bright idea.

……………………

Buffy brushed her hair. She lost count of brush strokes a long time ago, but she didn’t want to sleep. She didn’t want to risk dreaming about him, which was basically inevitable. Spike circled in her thoughts, despite his unwanted presence. He had been so awful to her, so mean and so obnoxious, and yet… she still wanted him.

She didn’t know when the feelings started, but suddenly they were dripping from her fingertips and singeing her veins whenever she thought about him or the kiss they had shared. It was the oldest story in the book: Boy and Girl hate each other, then Girl like Boy, then Boy turns into jerk asshole and starts spreading rumors… Ok, maybe it wasn’t the oldest story per say. But Buffy was a theater kid and needed the extra drama in her life for it to be worth living. It was a harsh reality she rarely thought about, but another unwelcome concept of theater was being ultra aware of the self.

Realizing her hair was beginning to fall out, Buffy dropped the brush and dived her head into her hands. She let the tears go that were leaking all day. She shook from the violent turn her emotions took. When the worst of the sobs subsided, Buffy turned off her lights and tried to sleep. She felt so weak.

……………………

Spike never realized how hard climbing a tree was. He tried it when he was small, but his father had helped him along. Now drunk and unable to even stand still, it seemed an impossible feet. Nonetheless, he needed to talk to Buffy and he would go to any extreme to do it.

After what seemed several hours, he reached the rooftop and Buffy’s window. Looking in, he saw Buffy’s silhouetted figure in the moonlight. He wanted to stare a little longer, but he felt the branches beginning to give under his weight. He had to jerk the window a few times before it lurched open and launched Spike inside. When he regained his composure, he spoke softly to wake her.

“Hello cutie.” He heard her yawn and turn over to face him.

And then she screamed.

……………………

Buffy was tucked in bed, only a moment from sleep when she heard a shriek from one of the neighboring houses. She jumped out of bed, opened her window and tried to pick out the cause of the noise.

……………………

“What are you doing in my house?! GET OUT!!!” the blonde woman screamed like a banshee. In his stupor, it took Spike a moment to realize he had broken into the wrong house. Now fearful for his life and body parts, Spike scrambled out of the bedroom, into the hallway and down the stairs to, presumably, the front door. He found himself chased by a large man clutching a baseball bat and clearly not afraid to use it as he broke a few figurines here and there.

Spike bolted as fast as he could outside and away. As he ran, he looked up and realized he was only wrong by two houses. Temporarily forgetting the reason for his escape, Spike stopped and stared at Buffy’s face in the moonlight from her actually window. She didn’t say anything and had an odd expression, but Spike didn’t care.

“I love you!” he exclaimed, but his speech was so impaired that it sounded like mush.

“What?” Buffy whispered to the mysterious drunk man on her lawn.

“I love you!” he said louder. Then, as he walked into the lights of her steps, she realized who it was and gasped. She still couldn’t understand him, though.

“What did you say?” she replied.

“I said,” he over pronounced the letter “d” in frustration, “that I-“ his speech was interrupted by a large man pushing him down. The man proceeded to beat him to a pulp, and for a second Buffy considered allowing him to do so. But her emotions held sway in the end and she yelled out to him from her window.

“Hey! Stop it! Leave him alone and get off my lawn or I’ll call the cops!” The man, possibly wanted by the police for previous aggravated assault, ran as fast as he could back to his house. Spike could barely move, but he needed to tell her, needed to make her understand.

“Buffy!” he coughed. Feeling sorry for him, and hating herself for feeling that way, Buffy crawled out of her window and came down the makeshift rope ladder/fire escape her father installed. When she reached him, that same pull crept into her heart. She wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to be closer. But it was wrong. He was wrong. Nonetheless, she couldn’t deny the attraction to the bleached wonder.

“Buffy?” he coughed again. “I have to tell-“ he coughed once more, “I have to tell you something.” Between the coughs and slurring, he was very difficult to understand, but she heard the last thing he said before he fell unconscious.

“I love you, Buffy.”

”I love you, Buffy.”

Buffy stared in wonder at the boy in her arms. He loved her? How could he love her after all they had been through? Although she was still angry with him, his peaceful face calmed her. She swept a curl away from his eyes and tried to haul him inside.

……………………

Joyce woke up early the next morning to make pancakes. Her daughter seemed emotionally unwell, which irked her. Buffy was usually a happy girl. However, the last few weeks had been hell. Buffy was moody and quick to anger, but then she would be more than fine the next day. While she had a hard time keeping up with the girl, she knew she had to sit down and have a nice, long talk with her.

Thus, pancakes.

Joyce stretched her arms and readied herself to go downstairs. Suddenly, she heard a groan. Curious, she crept down the steps in search for the culprit, and found a badly beaten boy lying awkwardly on her couch. As she cautiously moved closer, she realized that he was fast asleep. He looked slightly familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him. Believing him not to be an immediate threat, considering his many bruises, she lightly tapped his shoulder.

“Hello?” she asked timidly. When he didn’t respond, she tapped him harder. He still didn’t wake up when she shook him. “Hello?! Wake up!” she yelled. That seemed to do the trick because his eyes flew open. Seeing the woman in his personal space made him wildly overwhelmed and confused. So confused, in fact that he fell off the couch.

“What?!” he said wearily. He couldn’t remember most of what happened the night before and truly had no clue where he was.

Then, she figured it out. Of course she knew him! Joyce had seen him over the house a few times to practice lines with Buffy and he was badly bruised. This had to be the infamous “boy” Buffy had spoken of. Joyce couldn’t remember the story exactly, but since he was beaten, he had to be the nice one. Right?

“Hi, are you Buffy’s friend?” she said slowly. Spike’s hangover throbbed in his head with full force. Not wanting to think too much about the question, he nodded. He immediately regretted the decision as nausea came up.

Seeing his pain and not wanting to scare him, she went into the kitchen and got some ice packs. She let the boy sit for a minute, but she wasn’t sure how to continue. Did Buffy invite him to stay?

“Did Buffy invite you to stay?” she asked politely. Spike did not know how to answer since he barely remembered coming to her house at all. Maybe she did invite him to stay. However, seeing that as an unlikely scenario, he feared he had broken in. But not wanting to scare her, he replied that she had. “Well, I wish she would tell me these things in advance, but I suppose all moms of teenagers have to deal with it.”

Spike could see the resemblance between Buffy and this woman. They had the same disconcerting, skeptical stare that appeared to be a Summers’ trait.

“Hi, I’m Joyce.” She would have shaken his hand, but he couldn’t move very much. After a pause, she couldn’t take it any longer. “So, are you the boy who defended Buffy’s honor? Is that why you’re bruised?”

Spike scowled at her mentioning the fight with Angel. That ponce. While he remembered beating him up, he couldn’t recall why he was just as bad.

“I guess I did, in a way,” Spike said more to himself than to Joyce.

“Well, you seem alright. Would you like some pancakes? I was going to make some before Buffy woke up.” Spike almost heaved on the spot. Seeing the greenish tint of his skin, she decided not to mention it again. “Well, why don’t you go and wake Buffy up,” she said, unsure if that was the right thing to do. After all, he did defend her, which had some merit.

Spike slowly came to his feet. Regaining some of his strength, he gradually made his way up the stairs. He then realized that he had no clue which room was Buffy’s. Not wanting to disturb potential siblings or family members, he tried to look for a sign. And he found one: a big sign on the door to his right that said BUFFY in blue letters. He knocked softly.

……………………

Spike kissed down her neck, sending shocks down her spine. She closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath. His hand roughly palmed her breast as he took the other in his mouth. Running his wet, slippery tongue over her heated flesh was almost too much to bear. A second hand traveled across her stomach, causing it to flutter and burn beneath his touch. Without warning, he pulled her zipper down and began to trace her nether lips.

“Oh my god,” she whimpered as he licked a trail up her neck. Too many sensations set her body on fire. “Need you,” she panted.

“Ready for me?” he replied in his silky voice. At that moment, he ran a slender finger across her clit. A rush ran through her yet again. Spike kissed her roughly and passionately before slipping his finger inside her wet channel.

“Oh Spike! Please, uh, I want you,” she moaned as she rocked back and forth, grinding against his fingers. All of their clothes disappeared without notice as he pumped her steadily.

“I love you, Buffy,” he exclaimed as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his painfully hard cock. As he thrust into her, all thoughts went out the window. Grinding against her core made her ache with need. Buffy groaned.

Understanding her wordless plea, he pounded her into the mattress. Oh, how he needed her.

“Buffy, luv,” he said. She was seconds away from her climax. “Buffy?” she didn’t want to listen; she was too close. Suddenly, Spike started shaking her. “Wake up.”

……………………

Spike entered cautiously. He didn’t know what to expect, but he was praying that she invited him over. But Buffy was asleep, although tossing and turning. She began to mumble. He was about to wake her up, but jumped back when she said his name.

“Spike!” Believing it to be a nightmare, Spike begrudgingly came to her bed again. Before he had the chance, she repeated it with a moan. Buffy was moaning his name? It had to be his horrible hangover playing tricks on him.

“Need you,” she said softly. Spike was preparing himself for the moment she caught him staring at her. Not to mention the increasingly painful bulge in his pants. But feeling like a pervert, Spike spoke her name a few times. Eventually, she opened her eyes.

“Spike!” she exclaimed as she sat up and pulled the covers up to her neck. Neither said anything nor looked the other in the eye.

“Um, did you invite me to stay over?” he asked pleadingly. Buffy, still wide eyed and sexually frustrated, nodded. “Well, uh, your mom is making pancakes, so I uh,” God that woman is turning me into a stammering idiot. “I’ll uh, yeah,” he stammered as he left the room. Buffy fell back onto her pillow.

“Oh, dear god.”

Spike had no clue where he stood with Buffy. After politely declining Joyce’s offer to make him breakfast, he left the house with that thought pounding in his head. She was furious with him, but she invited him to stay over. She screamed at him in front of the entire school for spreading rumors about her while she dreamt about “needing” him.

At least her mother seemed to like him, despite the awkward introduction. Seeing as his car wasn’t in her driveway, he decided to piece the night together on his walk back home. Spike made a mental list of what he remembered:

• Buffy yelled at him, causing him to drive away furiously
• Raiding his parents’ liquor cabinet
• He vaguely remembered leaving his house to find Buffy and tell her how he felt…

But that was it. The rest of the night was a complete blur. He tried as best as he could to focus, but nothing. A short memory of being punched in the face, but that was it. How much did he have to drink? His parents would not be pleased by the sudden depletion in their alcohol stock. He also hoped that he did not tell Buffy his true feelings for her.

But what if he had and that’s why she let him stay over? What if she was the one who punched him in the face? Spike looked down at his many bruises and doubted she would beat him up that much. It was too much to think about with his massive headache, so he tried to simplify it.

What should he do now?

The past was the past and he couldn’t change it now. Spreading rumors to Angel was a bad move, but he also didn’t want Buffy to go out with him. On that scale, the mission was a success. However, the backfire ultimately made her go out with Angel, making his false admissions completely useless.

He needed her to understand how he felt. Somehow, he had to find a way to get passed all the bullshit and get to the point of the matter. Spike was tired of the many mixed signals and hidden feelings.

He suddenly realized what he had to do: humiliate himself. Buffy was humiliated when the rumors circulated; it was obviously the only way to show her how he felt. The plan formed in his migraine-addled brain as he trudged back home.

……………………

Spike didn’t show up for school the next day.

Or the next.

It shouldn’t have bothered her as much as it did, but the days seemed... empty without him. She hadn’t realized the impact Spike had on her life until he was suddenly gone. And Buffy knew it was her fault.

Spike had done terrible things to her, unconscionable things, and yet she couldn’t stay mad. She hated to admit it, but she missed him terribly. Especially after her date with Angel.

Not only was he the boring jock she expected, but also vain and somewhat ignorant. Angel spent a good portion of the evening talking about himself and bragging about football and sports. Buffy knew very little about sports and was perfectly content with that fact, but Angel seemed to believe she desperately wanted to understand every detail. As if that wasn’t enough, he became irritated when she asked the occasional question, as if it took all the effort in the world to go into more detail.

Buffy hadn’t expected a lot from the date, but the longer they stayed in the restaurant the more she wanted to see Spike. He had changed his demeanor significantly since he joined the play, but she couldn’t decide if it was because of her or the play itself.

She supposed he noticed her distant expression after a while because he stopped speaking and glared with his arms crossed.

“Hello? Earth to Buffy?” he said disdainfully. I looked up surprised.

“What? I was listening.”

“You know, if you want to leave you can just say so.”

“No!” I tried my best to sound convincing. “I’m having a great time! Really.” I smiled awkwardly as he raised his brow.

“Buffy… we both know that’s not true. Let me just say, this date isn’t laughs-o-plenty for me either. In fact, I’m pretty much wondering why I asked you out to begin with.” Buffy stared at him slack jawed.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Buffy, everyone around school knows you’re fast. You’re alright looking, but I figured, you know…”

“I know what?” she said, crossing her own arms.

“I don’t know, maybe come back to my place and have a little fun maybe.”

“Look, I know Spike spread rumors about me, but that’s all they were. Rumors. What in the hell gave you the idea I would go for that?”

“Theater kids are desperate as hell! It’s not like a well-known secret or anything! That’s why I joined the play in the first place.” When Buffy said nothing, he continued the affirmation. “Spike didn’t have to say anything. I just assumed.”

“Wait, so Spike didn’t spread those rumors about me?”

“He said you stalked him or something. I had nothing to do with that.”

“He said that?! I would never… he would never… wait, you just assumed I would have sex with you?”

“Well… yeah.”

“So,” the pieces started falling into place, “you’re the one who said I was fast?”

“I, uh, well…”

“It was you! You’re just a talentless jerk!” Buffy said it with a smile, realizing Spike wasn’t completely in the wrong… she was still mad at him though for the stalker thing. Suddenly, Angel nodded his head in understanding.

“Oh, I see… this is about Captain Peroxide, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“Spike! What, are you in love with that punk? That criminally insane, soon-to-flunk-out asshole? Wow, you really know how to pick ‘em.” He laughed self-deprecatingly. He didn’t handle rejection well.

“I went out with you, didn’t I?!” Buffy replied angrily. He was really starting to get on her nerves.

“Oh yeah, cause I totally asked you out for your conversation skills. I only did it cause I thought you were easy,” Angel leered at her.

“You’re a jerk, you know that?” she exclaimed as she stood up to leave. Angel clearly didn’t want a scene; she could tell from his wide, meaningful eyes.

“Please sit down,” he said between gritted teeth.

“No!” she said loudly. Buffy knew she was getting out of hand, but she saw an opportunity to leave her atrocious date and simply had to take it. “You’re a total and complete bonehead and yes, I would rather be with a criminally insane, soon-to-flunk asshole than spend one more second listening to you. ‘Oh, football is so awesome, Oh, I made 600 passes last year.’ Who gives a damn? Angel, you’re probably a great guy for someone who actually cares about your bullshit, but not me. Bye.” Buffy walked to the door and slammed it behind her. About a block away, she heard Angel run out of the restaurant and call out to her.

“You bitch! You think you’re special? You are nothing, just a fucking geek and that’s all you’ll ever be. And Spike knows it too!” Buffy walked faster to escape his comments. She didn’t want to cry. Even though she insulted him, it didn’t make his remarks less hurtful.

So Spike hadn’t spread those rumors! Well, he spread the rumors about her being a stalker, which she still didn’t understand. But he didn’t tell everyone she was a slut. That was something.

Buffy wanted nothing more than to talk to him. After all, he said he loved her and if she measured her feelings by the constant sex-driven dreams, she loved him back. Despite what he did, she couldn’t stay angry anymore. Buffy just wanted Spike in her life again. She had to know if he was telling the truth that night.

But he was nowhere to be found.

And there she sat in fourth period, half expecting him to walk through the door and sit beside her. Her world felt overly dramatized, like a Spanish soap opera… with Shakespeare.

……………………

Everything was set. All Spike had to do was hide in the storage section of the basement and wait for his nervousness to subside before he could go through with his plan. He stroked the metal object in his hand and stared at the ‘on’ switch. His plan was the most humiliating act he could think of and if Buffy didn’t forgive him, he would give up.

Nothing could top this.

……………………

Buffy was considering the similarities and differences between her life and said soap opera, when the loudspeaker clicked on. It whined a bit, but went silent soon after. The class glanced quizzically at the speaker box for a few moments before they returned to their activities. Just then, it clicked back on.

“Um, excuse me?” the familiar voice cracked. Buffy stared at the speaker in disbelief. No… it couldn’t be him.

“Yeah… this is Spike Williams and I have an announcement for Buffy Summers.” Everyone in the class, including the teacher, stared directly at her before returning in awe to the box. Meanwhile, her heart beat wildly in her throat. “You may not know Buffy Summers, but let me tell you she is talented, brilliant and beautiful. Only… I blew it, see. I humiliated her and if you don’t know Buffy directly, I’m sure you heard the rumors… and if you didn’t, please don’t ask and return to the rock you live under.” The class giggled at this.

“Buffy, if you’re listening, this is me humiliating myself. It’s only fair I think. I only hope that you can forgive me for being a bad, rude man.” She could hear things shuffling around wherever he was. Buffy wondered how he was getting away with it. “So, Buffy Summers, this one’s for you. Let the humiliation begin.” A piano began to play.

I am looking for an inspiration
And I think I found it in your heart
It's the kind of thing you get when you're not looking
It's the kind of thing you had from the start

Put me on a ship that is sinking
On a voyage to an untamed land
Take away the freedoms I wanted
I understand

Please, don't take your love away from me
Don't take your love away from me
Please don't take your love away from me

“May I be excused?” Buffy said as she ran out the door.

……………………

Spike never shared his music with anyone, so playing the song he wrote for her was the most humiliating thing he could think of. He continued, despite his insides turning inside out.

Please don't take your love from me
Please don't take your love from me

Put me inside flesh that is dying
A ghost that wanders without rest
Buried by desires and weakness
I understand

……………………

Buffy searched the music room, which seemed the obvious choice, but found a class full of bewildered students in his place. Embarrassed, she ran desperately around the school. His voice was everywhere, surrounding her.

She heard music coming from the bottom floor and realized where it came from. Luckily, she knew the ins and outs of the music and drama department well enough to find him before the song ended.

Please, don't take your love away from me
Don't take your love away from me
Please don't take your love from me
Please don't take your love from me
Hmmmmmm
Hmmmmmm

“So Buffy, if you’re listening, this is all for you. This is Spike Williams signing off.” Spike didn’t notice Buffy standing behind him, tears welling in her eyes. He clicked off the loudspeaker microphone and stared sadly at the floor. Buffy ran to him.

“I missed you so much,” she said before kissing him passionately.

“I missed you so much,” she said before kissing him passionately.

Spike was surprised by the sudden attack of his lips, but he was more than happy to oblige her. He stood up, accidently knocking the bench over. When flush against one another, Buffy began to slide against him with a need that rivaled his own. He needed to touch her, needed to have her, to claim her as his own.

“Mine,” he whispered as he slid his hand down her taut belly. Buffy’s only response was a shudder. She whimpered as he teased her, stroking the soft skin above her jeans. When Buffy had had enough, she broke away from the kiss and pushed his hand below. “Tsk tsk, Buffy. Good things come to those who wait,” Spike said huskily before biting lightly at her ear lobe. Buffy had never been so turned on in her life.

Not wanting to push his luck with the girl he just won back, he ever so slowly unbuttoned her jeans and slid them down her succulent legs. Spike had to suppress a moan from the eroticism of this simple act. He caressed her legs as he kneeled before her, staring in awe. When she stepped out of them, he ever so gently ran his hands up her thighs.

Suddenly, Spike picked her up and brought her to the surface of the piano. Her legs instinctually wound around him as their heated kisses turned desperate. Spike gently pushed her legs apart, wanting to taste her, but Buffy was having none of it. She lifted his head.

“Later,” she whispered. Buffy had no idea where this inner sex maniac lay dormant for all this time, but she could not deny her need for him. Buffy bit her lip trying to stay quiet, but the idea that anyone could walk in on them only made it that much sexier. She thrust her hips forward, begging him to enter her.

He couldn’t take it anymore; he had to have her. He practically ripped his clothes off and slid a condom on, then returned to their passionate embrace. As if reading her mind, Spike made sure their bodies remained in contact.

“Please, Spike... please ..." Buffy managed to say between heavy pants. He teased her a bit, sliding the tip of his cock between her folds. And when Buffy couldn’t stand it for another second, her legs twined around him again and she coaxed him inside. With one swift motion, Spike entered her, eliciting a guttural moan from the both of them.

Spike stared at her in wonder. Beautiful was the only though it in his head as he began to thrust. He increased the tempo as his lips slid across her jaw line and traced patterns down her neck.

The heat in the room skyrocketed. Buffy tried to hold on to something as she felt jolts of pleasure. Her walls began to flutter as he sped up the pace; this caused unnaturally loud chords from the piano with each plunge.

“Ugh, Buffy… so tight and wet for me…” Spike spoke incoherently.

“Oh, Spike… oh my god… ugh, I’m gonna…” Buffy responded. He watched her in awe as her climax built.

Without being able to stop himself, he breathed her ear, “I love you, Buffy.” That final verbal encouragement threw Buffy over the edge. Her inner walls clench wildly around him, milking him for all he was worth. He continued to thrust as she rode out her orgasm until she seemed completely sated. Spike collapsed on top of her, wholly spent.

When the lovers finally caught their breath, they gave one another feather light kisses. Buffy brushed his unruly hair with her hands.

“I didn’t know you wrote music,” Buffy said.

“Yeah, my dad had a real appreciation for music,” Spike responded. “He had a band in college, but that’s as far as it went. Anyway, he made me learn a bunch of instruments as a kid. Piano was the only one that stuck.” Buffy giggled and he watched her curiously.

“Care to share, pet?”

“No, it’s just… I can’t believe you did that!” He chuckled while still feeling slightly shaky from the experience. When she noticed, her giddy expression turned into concern. “Are you ok?”

“I, uh… I’m fine,” he said unconvincingly.

“Spike, you can tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong pet. I’m just calming down from that prank and, well… that with you… I’m just a little shaky.” Buffy was a bit perturbed by his inability to label their experience, but shook the though away. She lightly stroked his hair to relax him.

“I heard what you said, you know,” she said softly.

“Well, I figured you did when you came down here. I don’t know, I thought you had been embarrassed enough and it was my turn. I needed to even the score. It was the only way to…”

“To what?”

“To get you back,” he said with his eyes closed.

“Did you mean it?” she asked quietly. Spike lifted his torso his arms and looked at her.

“I did.” Buffy seemed to ponder it for a moment, but just as she was about to speak, the custodian opened the door. When she saw the light, she panicked.

“Get down!” Buffy whispered as she hid behind the piano. Finally noticing the problem Spike squeaked on the piano and hid behind it. Both of them put their clothes back on quickly and silently, praying that the custodian wouldn’t find them.

“Is there anyone in here?” No one responded. He shined his flashlight around the dark room to no avail. “To hell with this… damn kids hearing weird noises… just pisses me off,” he mumbled as he walked out the door. When they were positive he had gone, Buffy burst out in laughter.

“That was hilarious, oh my god,” she said between wheezes of laughter. Spike wanted to be angry, but she was too adorable. He chuckled as she rolled around on the dusty floor, trying to catch her breath. He held his hand out to help her up; Buffy took it and stood.

“Come on luv, let’s get to class then,” Spike said after making sure the coast was clear in the hallway. He noticed that she didn’t respond to his exclamation of his love for her. Figuring he would find out soon enough, he smiled at her goofily. Pangs of rejection crept up his spine, however. He tried to ignore them, but Faith had cut out his heart without so much as a hint she might. What if Buffy realized he wasn’t good enough?

He didn’t think he could take it.

After his little stunt, Spike was banned from school property for a week. He had committed enough petty crimes in the past for the school board to consider expelling him, but Mr. Giles unexpectedly pleaded his case. Therefore, a week off school and mandatory attendance at every rehearsal.

At first, things with Buffy had been fantastic. They spent every minute together they could. Each day, Buffy counted down the minutes until rehearsal started so she could see him again. Likewise, Spike watched the clock with great anticipation until the time came. On occasion, he had even driven to the school an hour early. That was something he never expected.

Besides their blooming relationship, the play was coming along extremely well. Between the many make out sessions, Buffy turned out to be an amazing acting teacher. She coached Spike on his lines relentlessly, despite his constant advances.

”Are you ready Spike?” Buffy said for what seemed like the fifteenth time.

“You know I am, baby,” he replied, leering at her. Buffy shook her head.

“Come on, read it one more time. I swear, one more time and then we can finish for the day.” He pouted and looked up at her with puppy-dog eyes. Although it was quite an affective expression, Buffy rolled her eyes without a hint of a smile.

“Buffy…” he whined.

“No, Spike. Read the lines.” His pout continued, but he finally began his speech again.

You have her father's love, Demetrius;
Let me have Hermia's: do you marry him.
I am, my lord, as well derived as he,
As well possess'd; my love is more than his;
My fortunes every way as fairly rank'd,
If not with vantage, as Demetrius';

His expressions had improved tenfold. Everything he said came as naturally as any other form of conversation to him. Buffy could not have been prouder of her pupil (and boyfriend).

And, which is more than all these boasts can be,
I am beloved of beauteous Hermia:
Why should not I then prosecute my right?
Demetrius, I'll avouch it to his head,
Made love to Nedar's daughter, Helena,
And won her soul; and she, sweet lady, dotes,
Devoutly dotes, dotes in idolatry,
Upon this spotted and inconstant man.

“Wow… that was… just wow!” Buffy exclaimed. She hugged him proudly before pecking him lightly on the cheek. The smell of her overwhelmed him however, and he grabbed her before she had the chance to pull away. Kissing up her neck voraciously, he whispered words of wanting.

“Do you know what you do to me? You’re gonna kill me, Summers,” he murmured huskily. His pants tightened around his member as she kissed him back hungrily.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she spoke seductively as she rubbed his thigh. The urge to take her against the wall was overwhelming, despite her mother listening right upstairs. She noticed his quick intake of breath as she caressed his stomach. She stroked just above his belt buckle. “Hey Spike?” she whispered in his ear. He only whined in response. “Time to work.” She bit his earlobe softly and smiled as she walked to the other side of the stage.

Spike stared at her in confusion, unable to process her words next to her actions.

But Angel was anything but pleased. He watched the lovers day in and day out and couldn’t help the pangs of jealousy. He had no idea why a hotshot like him wanted a geek like Buffy, but something about her made his blood boil. Something about her made him think of nothing else. Despite the cheerleaders making passes at him, he only wanted Buffy. His hatred of Spike didn’t make matters any better.

During rehearsal, Angel tried to trip him up. He put stage weights in his bag, switched his own lines, etc. Anything to show Buffy how wrong Spike was for her. But the more he tried, the more Spike impressed Mr. Giles and Buffy with his so-called professionalism. He just couldn’t win.

For this reason, Angel came up with the perfect scheme. He was completely confident that it would not only separate them, but also make Buffy fall into his arms. It simply could not fail.

Two days were left before the show and Mr. Giles had them working up until midnight each night, but Buffy didn’t care. Buffy could barely contain her excitement for the upcoming performances. She had had leads before, but for some reason, this play meant more. Perhaps it was because she would perform with the man she loved and who loved her back. Perhaps the reason was simply that she hadn’t been in another play for a few months. Either way, he excitement grew exponentially throughout the days.

Buffy wished that the school would care more about the arts program, but they just acted the way the always did: indifference. The plays never seemed to matter much to the remaining student body. In fact, the more the theater kids tried to promote the shows, the less inclined they were to take part. Just as well, Buffy was pleased to be a part of it.

Suddenly, however, Spike’s ex-friends bought tickets. Seeing that the punks were buying tickets, the masses thought it would be a good idea to follow. Mr. Giles was overwhelmed with joy to learn they had sold out every performance on the second day of ticket sales. When Buffy found out, she ran to the theater to find Spike. He was waiting for her, as always.

“Spike! Did you hear? We are sold out!” she exclaimed as she ran to his open arms. She didn’t notice his now slack-jawed demeanor.

“Huh?”

“Sold out! As in, every single seat filled? Isn’t it wonderful!” Buffy pulled away a bit to see his expression, but was surprised by his sudden pallor. “What’s the matter?”

“I just… uh… I’m fine. Just, um… surprised,” he responded with a less-than convincing smile. Buffy, however, was too happy over the development to notice.

“Me too” she yelled, hugging him once more. “Oh my god! I have to go tell everyone. I’ll see you in a minute!” she yelled as she bounded out of the theater. A figure watched him collapse in a chair nearby.

It was time.

“Hey Spike,” said a far off voice. Spike looked around for the culprit and found Angel standing before him. “How are you doing? Excited?”

“Yeah… I suppose,” he said cautiously. He still wasn’t 100% onboard when it came to Angel. Not after what the ponce had done to his Buffy.

“Cause, you know, I heard it’s gonna be packed in here.”

“Heard the same.”

“I’m just glad I’m not nervous. Jeez, that could trip a person up.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Hey! Can’t a guy just make conversation?” Angel took Spike’s silence as a request to continue. “I’m just saying that when I’m nervous, I forget my lines, my blocking… everything goes haywire. Even if I’m completely prepared… I don’t know about all of those people… staring and judging me. It’s like football, you know? Except that last pass of the night lasts the entire show.” Angel seemed pleased with himself for coming up with the analogy.

“You really should have been a poet,” Spike said. Angel either missed the sarcasm in his voice entirely or chose to ignore it.

“Well, I have to be going. I’ve got a girl waiting out there for me. See you soon.” The boy stalked off proudly, whistling as he left the auditorium. He was positive that his plan had worked. He forced everyone to buy tickets for the show in hopes that Spike would get so nervous he would ruin the production. Because Angel would expect the horror, he would come out looking like he saved everyone from the audience. Buffy would come to him and renounce Spike. It really was the perfect plan.

Spike collapsed for a second time. Oh god… I really am in for it, aren’t I…

……………………

The night of the show

The cast could hear the audience murmuring. It was like the tuning of a symphony before a musical; energetic and profound. Well, not exactly profound, but definitely beautiful. Buffy clasped the velour curtain in her small hand and smiled at the audience she could not see. This was it.

Showtime.

He could hear the audience murmuring. It was like a throb, pounding in his ear and scaring him half to death. As much as he wanted to forget about Angel’s clear trick to psych him out, his words looped in his head, “…when I’m nervous, I forget my lines, my blocking… everything goes haywire. Even if I’m completely prepared… I don’t know about all of those people… staring and judging me…” He grabbed the curtain and tried to squeeze out his nervousness on the poor fabric. He glared at the audience, mocking him behind it. This was it.

Showtime.

Larry Fergusen stepped out on stage and began the play.
“Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour
Draws on apace; four happy days bring in
Another moon…

Buffy watched the action unfold onstage from the wing. A permanent smile played on her face as she witnessed the wonder of the theater. It really was magical. A few minutes in, however, she noticed Spike, white as a sheet, clinging to the curtain for dear life on the opposite wing. She quickly picked up her skirts and quietly toed her way to the opposite end of the proscenium.

“Spike!” she whispered as quietly as she could, praying her microphone wasn’t on. He turned to face her with a ghastly expression. “What’s wrong, baby?” she said as she stroked his cheek in what she hoped was a calming way.

“I-I think there are t-too many people out th-th-there,” he stuttered stupidly. Spike wanted to smack himself out of it, but he simply couldn’t. His embarrassment over his nervousness was overwhelming.

“Shhhh,” she said as she hugged him tightly. “Everything is going to be fine. You’ll see.” Her calming words didn’t seem to make a dent in his feelings. “Ok, Spike, look at me. You are amazing. You have done this a zillion times, with and without me. You know the words and your blocking. What could go wrong? What, you miss a line? So what! These people won’t know or realize that! Besides, these people are here to support you. They are here to see you perform, whether that means you are amazing or not. They aren’t waiting for you to fail. Well… a lot of them are, so that might actually be the case… So show them wrong! Show them the man you can be, the man I know you are, and shove it in their faces.” A hint of a smile shown on his face, but was almost immediately replaced by his internal anguish.

“Spike… look,” she forced him to look at her. “Remember when you sang to me over the loudspeaker?” he nodded jerkily. “That meant a lot to me. And do you know why?” he shook his head. “Because you let yourself go. You finally opened up and let this ‘badass’ persona go. You could finally be yourself because you found a reason to. Even though you had to humiliate yourself, you had a reason that meant more. Am I still your reason?” There was a hint of nervousness in the question. Spike held his palm to her cheek and gazed at her in awe.

“Of course you are… I love you,” he said softly. She blushed and smiled adorably. He kissed her softly on her full, luscious lips.

“Then perform for me. Pretend I’m the only one out there and it’s all for me. Ok?” He nodded happily as the color returned to his cheeks. Buffy kissed him once more before padding off to her side of the stage.

I am so in love with that girl, he thought.

When Spike walked out to perform, he felt more confident than ever before. He didn’t notice the pained expression strewn across Demetrius’ face because he was too focused on how beautiful Buffy was as she glided across the stage.

As the play came to a close, Spike had an idea.

“My lord, I shall reply amazedly,
Half sleep, half waking: but as yet, I swear,
I cannot truly say how I came here;
But, as I think,--for truly would I speak,
And now do I bethink me, so it is,--
I came with Hermia hither: our intent
Was to be gone from Athens, where we might,
Without the peril of the Athenian law….”

Spike looked around happily and winked at Buffy.

“But…” the other cast member blinked awkwardly at the change in lines.

“But!?” Demetrius exclaimed, irritated beyond reason.

“But…” Spike continued, “as I lay in starlight this night,
As the dawn realizes the sunrise,
I knew it could not be-“

The audience, at least the ones who knew the play, gasped in unison.

“For she,” Spike pointed at a very surprised Helena.
“For she is the one for me,
Yes Helena is not meant for thee,” he then pointed at a furious Demetrius.
“I once lay in slumber, awaiting a morning
I never knew would come, could come
But then, beautiful Helena, in her fair
Came upon me like a gust of air
Breaking my sleep and breathing it in
Yes, now I know at once what can never be severed
That I love Helena, now and forever.”

Spike brought Buffy to the edge of the stage and watched the emotions play over her face. In the heat of the moment, a very pissed off Angel strutted off the stage. The audience laughed obnoxiously at the brunettes’ huff puff. Willow (Hermia), who was never one for adlibbing, ran off the stage in the opposite direction. While Buffy felt badly for both parties, her brain more or less shut off as she gazed into Spike’s cerulean eyes.

“You know you’ll never get another part after this little stunt,” she whispered.

“I don’t plan to,” he whispered back before kissing her passionately. He only broke apart when the ‘awws’ and hooting from the audience became unbearable.

“Why?” she whispered.

“Because now I have my reason to be who I want to be,” he whispered back. “Oh dear Helena,” he projected once again, “my heart is now true as steel… whatever that means.”

“It means thy love is as strong as the metal,” she replied happily.

“Then my love is ten times, twenty times, one hundred times stronger than steel. You are the reason I have strength of heart.”

“I am your reason?”

“You are all of my reasons.” When they kissed a second time, the audience roared with approval. The couple faced them with glorious smiles and bowed together.

When they stood up again, Spike whispered in her ear, “Maybe next year they’ll do Romeo and Juliet.”

THE END