Chapter 2
"I'm sorry, Buffy," Angel cooed, sincerity coating his voice. Buffy lay sprawled out on her bed, dressed only in her underwear and t-shirt, twirling the phone cord between her fingers. "I got jealous. I hate seeing you with other men."
"I told you. I was just being nice," Buffy huffed, rolling her eyes. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered with Angel anymore. All they ever seemed to do was fight.
"I know. But the way he was looking at you, like you were a piece of candy, made me mad," Angel insisted.
"I can't help how he looked at me, Angel. And that doesn't excuse the comment about me not 'giving it up,'" she reminded him, anger and hurt lacing her words. She had spent the last summer, worrying about that. Angel was going off to school, and it seemed only natural for them to do it before he left. Only, she wasn't ready, and he had said that he understood. However, every so often, he would let her know how he really felt about it.
"I told you I was sorry about that. It's just. . .I want you so much. It's getting hard to wait." A whine had crept into his voice, and Buffy felt herself starting to forgive him. Again.
"I know. It's hard for me, too," she admitted with a sigh. "I'm just not ready yet," she reiterated, wondering if it would ever sink in.
"I understand. I really do," he reassured. In actuality, he didn't have a clue. He normally would have moved on by now, but he never liked to admit defeat. And the fact that she was a virgin. . .well, that was too tempting to resist. Getting tired of groveling, he eyed the pretty brunette shimmying down the hall, a slow grin spreading across his handsome face. When she cast him a sloe eyed glance over her shoulder, he decided it was time to get off the phone. "Hey, Buffy, I've got to go. There's a line for the phone." He managed to inject the right amount of regret into the words, his eyes never leaving the dark haired girl. She had paused by the soda machine at the end of the hall, her gaze continually roaming back to him.
"Alright. I love you."
"Yeah, me too. Call you later." Then, he was gone, the click of the disconnect echoing in her ear. Her face twisted into a 'blah' expression, and she crawled across her bed to hang up the phone. She then flopped back on her bed, her golden hair fanning across the pillows, her mind replaying the last few days. It had been three days since their fight in the Bronze, and she had steadfastly refused to call him. Of course, by Friday night, she had worked herself into such a snit, that when he finally called on Saturday, she'd told her mother to tell him she wasn't home. He had then proceeded to call every hour, until Joyce had tired of the game and made Buffy come to the phone.
After she had gone home Wednesday, an hour early, she had stormed into the house, then up the stairs past her surprised mother and smirking sister. They watched as she flew past them, flinching with the force that she slammed her door with. Neither one of them had dared venture up, deciding to leave her alone to sulk. She had cried herself to sleep that night, and had woken the next morning puffy eyed and cranky. Then, when she had met Willow in the library at school, she'd had to listen to her friend alternate between Angel bashing, and Spike gushing. She had actively participated in the Angel bashing, and had inwardly kicked herself for letting him ruin her evening with her friends, and the obviously entertaining Spike. She ignored the stab of jealousy that pierced her at Willow's description of her game with Xander and the blonde. He had been patient with her, teaching her how to properly hold the cue, and line up her shot. The first time she had sunk a ball, under her own power, he had grinned and cheered her on. He and Xander had then proceeded to clean a couple of college punks out of their hard earned allowance.
Xander had joined them, then, adding his list of praises to the mix, making Buffy's head hurt. He and Xander had apparently hit it off, and he was meeting Spike at his house after school to show him the rest of the town. The petite blonde suddenly felt like odd man out, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that.
But, by the end of the day, she realized she was being snotty. He had come to her rescue, so to speak, with Angel. And, despite his earlier surliness, had proven himself to be charming. Only brats got jealous when her friends found new friends.
Friday night, Willow had come over with a half gallon of double chocolate fudge chunk ice cream and a slew of chic flicks, prepared for some serious bonding time with her best friend. Xander and Spike had headed out to the track on the outskirts of town, to watch the weekly drag races that were held there. The girls were happy that he had found somebody to buddy with, especially since they hated that crap.
Then, Saturday came, and her conversation with Angel had come and gone. Her relationship was saved from extinction once again. Now, she found herself with nothing to do. Sighing, she pushed herself off the bed and slipped on some jeans, followed by her sneakers. Maybe she and Willow could take Dawn to the mall. Buy her a cd by one of those boy bands she was so crazy about.
Slipping a bra on under her shirt, in a move that baffled most boys, she adjusted her shirt, and picked up her brush. A few strokes, and a quick flip of her wrist, her light tresses were bound in a clip, the ends barely brushing her shoulders. Not wanting to fuss with make up, when all she was planning on was a girls' day, she turned and left the room. She bounded down the stairs, and turned the corner to cut through the living room to the kitchen. She found her mother sitting at the table, a cooling cup of coffee in front of her.
"Hi, honey," Joyce said, sliding her reading glasses off.
"Hi, Mom. Where's Dawn?" Buffy asked, walking to the fridge to pull out the juice.
"Outside, I think," her mother answered, getting up to get a glass for her.
"Mind if we go to the mall? Buy cd's of bands that won't be around in a year, and spoil our dinner with sugary food stuff?" she asked, smiling. Joyce laughed, and shook her head.
"No, go ahead. Just don't be late. I have to go to the gallery tonight and do some inventory. I want you home before then."
"I thought that was Mr. Giles' job now," the younger woman said, sipping her juice. Joyce leveled her daughter with a look, and adjusted her robe to sit down again.
"He just moved here, Buffy. I thought I would give him a couple of days to get settled before dumping a lot of work on him."
"Oh," was all she said, one slim shoulder raising in a shrug.
"Things alright with Angel?" Joyce asked, putting her glasses back on and picking up her pen again. She never looked up from her paperwork, but she was all ears as she waited for Buffy's answer.
"Yeah. All made up." Her mother noted the less than happy tone, but didn't remark. She had to deal with this on her own, but Joyce would be there to listen when she wanted to talk.
"That's good. Is he coming home for summer break?" Buffy scowled into her glass.
"I don't know yet. If not, I'll be in L.A. to see Dad. I'll see him then." Joyce made a non-committal noise at that. She didn't want her daughters to get their hopes up as far as Hank Summers was concerned, but she was determined to let him dig his own grave. Buffy drained her glass, and put it in the sink, turning to brush a kiss over her mother's cheek. "Bye, Mom. See you later," she said, then turned to go in search of her sister.
"Bye, sweetheart. Don't forget what I said," Joyce called after her.
"Alright. Love you." The door slamming was punctuation.
Spike pried one eye open at the sound of the knock on his door.
"Hunh?" he groaned, loud enough for the offender on the other side to hear. Giles pushed open the door, sighing at the pile of dirty clothes that blocked it.
"Will?" He sounded disgusted at his child's slovenly habits. "A Xander Harris called," he finished as he pushed the rest of the way into the room. Boxes still littered the floor and the surface of his desk. The only things seemingly unpacked were the cd player, his collection of cd's, and various posters of bands that Giles shuddered to call music. People with names like Limp Biskit, Marilyn Manson, and Kid Rock graced the wood paneled walls. His clothes were strewn across the floor, the bed, and the dresser. His precious duster was the only thing hung up. One boot was laying next to the bed, the other thrown by the closet.
"Shit." Suddenly, Spike was a flurry of movement, picking up clothes and tossing them on. Giles watched in amazement as his son, who only a moment ago was barely conscious, was now dressed and running a hand through his tangled mass of white curls.
"Might I ask what's the rush?" he asked as Spike breezed past him, his heavy boots thudding against hardwood floors. Giles followed him down the hall, suppressing the sigh at the way his son dressed. His too tight, faded blue jeans had rips in the knees, and his black t-shirt had the sleeves and collar ripped off.
"S'posed to go with Xan out to the mall today. Then later out to the track."
"Track?" Giles was baffled as he watched Spike pull the milk out of the refrigerator and take a swig straight from the carton. He sighed again, taking his glasses off and polishing them with the hem of his sweater. He'd never understand just where Spike's manners had disappeared to. Probably went the way of the hair.
"Yeah, race track. We went there last night. Never seen anything like it." Spike got a faraway look in his eyes for a brief instant, then shook it off, replacing the carton and pulling out a mug. His father only drank coffee at one time of day, and luckily, it was still warm. Drinking the bitter brew, black, he went in search of something to eat.
"And what exactly was racing?"
"Cars, Dad. Late model American cars." This was said in a dreamy voice. Giles was glad that his son was adjusting to the move so well, and had made a friend so quickly, but he didn't know if he liked the way he was so enamored with the race. "It was done on this dirt track, and it was amazing. There were three wrecks, and one car flipped completely over." Spike's voice was filled with awe. Giles looked shocked that his son found amusement in the endangerment of others.
"Were they hurt?" he sounded appalled. Spike slid his blue eyes over to his father, smirking at the almost prim disapproval.
"No," was all he said, shoving a banana in his mouth. It wasn't much, but it would have to do until they got to the mall. He threw the peel in the trash, then put his empty mug in the sink and walked towards the door when the knock sounded.
"W-w-when will you be back? I thought we might have dinner," Giles stammered, wondering when he had lost control. *Rosemary would know what to do,* he thought numbly as he again watched Spike's retreating back.
"Not too late. Don't wait up." Then, he was gone. Giles blinked back the tears at finding himself suddenly alone in the house, his hopes of reconnecting with his son dashed once more. He made a mental note to ask Joyce about this Xander Harris, since he was one of Buffy's friends.
He wandered aimlessly around the living room, his gaze coming to rest on the picture above the mantel. Rosemary Giles had been a vibrant, life-loving woman. Her light brown hair hung in gentle waves around her shoulders. Eyes as blue as corn flowers were alive with laughter, and her milk and honey complexion radiated almost from within. The same sharp cheekbones that she had given to her son gave her face an angular appearance, her full mouth always set in a wide smile. She had an inner beauty that made the people around her smile. She always seemed to know the right answer, or what to say in a difficult situation. She never would have let William become so unruly, and she would know how to reign him back in.
Rupert had met her during his junior year at Oxford. She had been backpacking through Europe with a small group of students from the states. They were on their last stop in London, before heading home. He had been walking down the street, nose buried in a book as usual, not noticing the small woman in the flowing purple dress until he had almost run her over. He had stammered over an apology, smiling when she giggled at him. They had spent the next three days in bed. By the fourth, they were married. It was the first impulsive thing he had ever done, and he had never regretted a minute of their eighteen years together. Then, she had gotten sick, her beauty never fading even as the cancer ate her from the inside out. Rupert had been too involved in his own grief over losing the love of his life, to see his son was drowning. Mother and child had been inseparable, and her easy affection had been passed down to her son. However, when she passed, that easiness William had passed with her. Almost immediately, he started to get into trouble at the private school he attended. They finally expelled him when he set fire to one of the bathrooms after improperly disposing of a cigarette. The day after they had buried Rosemary, he had emerged from the bathroom with his hair bleached, and his clothes torn. He'd run the streets all hours, mouthing off whenever Giles tried to question him. It was when he was brought home by the police, for breaking the window of a shop, that Rupert decided it was time to leave. He had decided that he would take his son back to the place that birthed the woman that had loved them both. To California. Both her and William had duel citizenship, she had insisted should he ever wish to live there. So, it was an easy decision to make.
He was just afraid that things weren't going to change, and he had no idea how to fix them.
"I miss you," he told the framed portrait of his wife, running a gentle finger over the lines of her face. "I don't know what to do, Pidge. I'm bulloxing it all up. How do I get him back?" he asked the image. Sighing heavily, he gave it one last longing look, then turned to change. Might as well go to the gallery, and see if there was any work to be done, since he wouldn't see Will for the rest of the day now.
Dawn, Willow, and Buffy laughed together as they rode the escalator down to the main level of the mall. Their arms were laden with bags, all three having studiously saved their allowances for just this purpose. Every two months, they would head out to the mall for a shopping spree, blowing their money on all the trivial things teenagers, and one pre-teen, just HAD to have. Dawn always felt special during these times, because they wouldn't treat her like a kid. They would gossip and laugh, eat lots of junk, and sometimes go see a movie, usually one that Joyce would have disapproved of for Dawn. Buffy would take her into the department stores and use the 'try me' display make-up to help her sister feel older. Stupid sister stuff that always made Dawn happy.
"Hey, isn't that Xander and Spike?" the eleven year old asked, liking the way her heart bounced in her chest at the sight of the blonde. Buffy and Willow turned in the direction Dawn was pointing. Sure enough, coming out of the arcade were the two in question, arms flailing as they raved about whatever game they had been playing.
"Xander!" Willow called, drawing their attention. Wide smiles greeted the girls as they walked over to them.
"Well, if it isn't the three most beautiful ladies in all of the Golden state," Xander exclaimed.
"Oh, surely you mean the world, don't you Xan?" Spike corrected, blue eyes sparkling as they came to rest on Buffy, who seemed to be having trouble breathing again. Willow blushed to the color of her hair and giggled, and Dawn smiled in pleasure.
"Oh, absolutely. How could I have been so foolish?" Xander scolded himself, making a great show of dropping to his knees before the girls. Mortified giggles erupted from them, as the other people in the mall started to stare. "Can you ladies ever forgive me?" he asked imploringly.
"Get up you dork," Dawn exclaimed.
"Oh, you wound me," the brunette exclaimed, clasping both hands over his heart as if he had been shot. Spike snorted from behind him.
"She's right, you are a dork, get up before you run the birds off, and I'm left with just you for company again."
"You know, if it wasn't for the fact that you are incredibly cool, and the ladies all swoon over you, thereby making my chances of scoring better since I hang with you, I would take offense at that." Xander replied, returning to his feet.
"Whatever," Buffy said, rolling her eyes. Her gaze had continually locked with and averted Spike's throughout Xander's pathetic display. Just then, a group of four girls strode up to them. The leader, a tall, leggy brunette with the face and body of a model looked down her delicately tipped nose at them. The three other girls looked like your basic followers. One blond, one redhead, and another brunette, each with practiced looks of bored disdain on their rich bitch features. Cordelia Chase stared directly at Xander, the scathing remark she was about to let loose obviously meant for him. Harmony Kendall, the blonde, stood to her left, arms crossed over her chest, trying very hard NOT to stare at Spike. Tiffany Colbert, a medium height redhead, with oriental features glared at the group from Cordelia's right. The last girl, the brunette, almost mousy looking girl, with wide grey eyes stood just behind the taller girls, her look of disdain not quite as solid as the others.
"God, can't you find a better place to put on your little display of patheticness? Somewhere else, BESIDES the middle of all the premium walking space?" Cordelia snapped, glaring at Xander, then pushing forward to practically knock him out of the way. Willow rolled her eyes dramatically, then mimicked the bane of her existence's words. Spike watched the group leave, flashing a winning smile at the blonde as she passed. He chuckled when she blushed, then hurried off to keep up with her friends. Buffy scowled at his actions, shaking it off when she reminded herself that she had a boyfriend.
"She wants you, man," Spike told Xander. The look on the brunette's face rivaled that of a gasping fish.
"Who? Cordy? Yeah, right. Only in my drea. . .er, uh, nightmares," Xander quickly covered. But he didn't quite wipe the hopeful look off his face. One of Spike's brows shot up, a smirk curving his lip. Dawn felt her heart trip again at the look. Buffy caught herself staring, and Willow nearly laughed out loud. She'd known forever that Xander had a crush on Cordy, he just used his insults to cover it up.
"No, I mean it. The way she looked right at you when she was insultin' us. Then, the deliberate knocking into you," Spike nodded, smiling. "Yeah, she's got it bad."
"You think?"
"Nah. But, it was funny to make you think so." The blonde snorted at the glower his new friend directed at him.
"So, what are you boys doing here?" Willow asked, wanting to change the subject from Cordy and her snot brigade.
"Just killing time. Heading back out to the track tonight," Xander told them. Buffy felt her face flame when Spike's eyes came to rest on her again. "What about you?"
"Shopping," the three girls responded with giggles, brandishing their shopping bags like spoils of war.
"We were thinking about going and seeing a movie," Buffy said, when she finally found her voice.
"Yeah, want to come with?" Willow asked. The two males glanced at each other, then shrugged.
"Don't see why not," Spike answered.
"Yeah. As long as it's not some chick flick. Can't handle Fried Green turnips or whatever."
"Steel Brassiers," Spike offered with a smirk. Xander snorted, and the girls glared.
"Could you two be any more juvenile?" Buffy inquired.
"Probably," they said together. The girls rolled their eyes simultaneously, and Spike briefly wondered if you could get brain damage from doing that too often.
"Well, lead on McDuff," he said, giving a grand sweep of his arm. The trio giggled once again as they moved past the two boys.
"How do you DO that?" Xander whispered as they started to follow them.
"Practice, my friend. Practice."
Chapter 3
“I can’t believe that I let you talk me into this.” Buffy grumbled, following Willow down the packed aisle. There were only a few seats left, and the red head was moving towards them quickly. “If mom finds out, she’ll skin us both. You better not get scared.” She sat down in the seat and leaned forward to glare around Spike at Dawn, who just rolled her eyes.
“Lighten up, pet. She’ll be fine. Won’t you Nibblet?” Spike looked down at the girl, smiling. Dawn nodded happily, glad that he wasn’t treating her like a little kid. And he had called her Nibblet! The fact that he had given her a nickname made her stomach tingle pleasantly. She settled back in her seat between him and Xander, determined no to get scared.
“Oh, great.” A snotty voice carried from their left. All heads turned to see Cordelia and the snot brigade standing at the end of the aisle, glaring. “The only seats left are these.” She told her cohorts, who sniffed. Willow and Buffy rolled their eyes and leaned back in their seats, ignoring the girls. Spike watched Xander as he shifted in his seat, trying hard not to look at the knock out brunette. She stood at the end, her hands on her trim, linen clad hips, her red skirt near illegal lengths. The simple white shell she wore hugged her generous curves, allowing Spike to see just WHAT Xander saw in her. He noticed the little blonde girl behind Cordy, sneaking peaks at him from around her shoulder. Decided to help his friend out, he smiled winningly at the girl. Sure enough, his plan worked. Harmony leaned up to say something to Cordy. The brunette rolled her eyes, but moved to flop gracefully into the seat next to Xander. He stiffened, and shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth, wide brown eyes riveted to the screen. When the four finally settled, the lights dimmed, and the obligatory no smoking, and these are the exits in case of emergency announcements came on. Spike shifted to get comfortable, his hand brushing against Buffy’s on the armrest. A little thrill sang up his arm at the contact, and he stole a look at her in the dim light. He was struck again by how beautiful she was. She sat beside him, eyes riveted to the screen, occasionally whispering something to Willow. With a smirk, he shifted again, this time deliberately touching her knee. She stiffened, but she didn’t move away, and he left the backs of his knuckles resting against it. He smiled, then returned his eyes to the screen to listen to Drew Barrymore tell the phone caller what her favorite scary movie was.
By the end of the movie, Spike and Xander were in heaven. Several times, starting with the hapless boyfriend who was gutted while his girlfriend watched, their desired ladies had buried their faces in their shoulders to hide from the horror on the screen. Buffy fingers had continually dug into Spike’s arm, moving lower until she linked her fingers with his in a death grip. Cordelia had managed to forget that she was supposed to hate Xander, and had linked her arms around his, resting her forehead on his shoulder, letting out a little squeal every time something bloody happened, which had been like every two seconds. The two males shared a look of male pride over Dawn’s head, satisfied smiles in their lips. Dawn just watched the screen, her attention riveted to the gore, not noticing how her sister, who had a boyfriend, was draped across Spike. Willow did, however, and she smiled. She hated Angel/ She had heard some rumors before he left, about his cheating on Buffy, which was the main reason why she had rallied against Buffy sleeping with him. But, since she didn’t have any proof, she never said anything to the blonde. Just lent her ear when it was needed, and bashed the man every chance she got.
When the lights came up, realization settled on Buffy, and she quickly disentangled her hand from Spike’s, shooting him an embarrassed smile, before making a show of gathering up her stuff. Dawn caught the action, and a flash of hurt slid through her eyes. Cordy’s eyes widened in horror when she realized what she had been doing, and she rose quickly to retreat before any one else noticed. As she walked away, Xander saw the look she cast over her shoulder back at him, and he noticed it wasn’t as full of as much scorn as usual. Smiling smugly, he rose, and started the slow procession out of the theater.
Willow snagged Buffy, keeping her back with her.
“So?” She whispered, russet brows wagging.
“What?” Buffy asked, confusion marring her smooth brow. Willow rolled her eyes an pointed to Spike’s black clad back.
“Getting the warm and fuzzies for a certain British blonde?” She asked hopefully. Buffy looked aghast at the suggestion.
“God, Will. Of course not. I don’t cheat.” She snapped.
“I didn’t suggest that you start, either. You and Angel haven’t been getting along really well for a while now. Plus he’s so far away. I was just thinking that maybe you were ready to move on. He is cute.” Willow told her. Buffy felt her temper rise. She didn’t really know why, but she hated it when she heard her own inner thoughts spoken out loud by someone else. She glared at the bleached blonde in front of her, what ever he was saying to Dawn making her smile.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I LOVE Angel. I’m not going to throw that away just cause I think a guy is cute. If that were the case I would have dumped him along time ago for Xander.” She huffed, scowling.
“Okay. Sorry. Just, don’t settle, Buffy.” Willow said, a little hurt by her friends tone. She moved off to fall into step next to Xander, ready to tease him mercilessly about having to sit next to Cordy. Dawn moved up to help, and Spike slowed to walk with Buffy.
“Great movie, huh?” Spike asked, pulling out a cigarette as they walked outside into the early evening.
“Yeah, if you like the blood, and horror.” She sniffed, shifting her bags nervously in her hands. Despite her objections to Willow, she couldn’t’ deny her reaction to his presence. It hadn’t even happened this quick with Angel. She didn’t lose her capability to form speech when Angel looked at her the way Spike was.
Spike chuckled, the sound deep and soft, causing her skin to tingle. She looked up into his eyes and immediately felt like she was in quicksand, sinking fast. They were bottomless, and perfectly blue, seeming to straight through to the very heart of her.
“It’s not real. That’s all you have to tell yourself.” He said, taking a deep drag. She thought briefly about telling him her opinion on smoking and second hand smoke, but, he looked so sexy with it dangling out of lips, that she forgot what she was going to say. Now she understood why all the censors were going nuts about cigarettes being aimed towards teens, cause, in the right person, it did look cool.
“Yeah. I guess my imagination is just too good.” She said with a little laugh. He chuckled again as well, then they fell into a comfortable silence. Buffy found she liked it. With Angel, she always felt like she should say something, anything to break the tenseness that always seemed to surround them when they were quiet.
About ten minutes later, the small group came to a stop in front of their house on Revello Drive. “Thanks for the movie guys. I had a good time.” Dawn said, smiling brightly at Spike. He returned her smile, and ran a finger down her cheek.
“The littlest one was the bravest of them all.” He said, smiling. She smiled again, her tiny face radiant at the compliment. “Goodnight, Nibblet.”
“Goodnight.” She said, turning and running up the steps so she could write it all down in he diary while it was still fresh. Willow and Xander stood away from them, hoping that the sparks that were flying around the blondes would catch and smolder.
“You know, she’s got a little thing for you.” Buffy told him, turning to face him.
“Yeah. Kinda hard not to notice, the way she was sending you death looks and all.” He said, searching her face. She blushed, and bit her lip, eyes widening comically.
“I don’t know what you mean.” She said, indignant.
“Yeah.” Was all he said, shifting ever so subtly closer to her.
“Uhm, you ready to start school, on Monday?” She burst out, desperate to change the subject.
“Yeah. I guess. Can’t be that much different than the schools in London. Least I won’t have to wear a Nancy boy uniform.” Buffy chuckled at the image that popped into her mind, of Spike, his bright hair tousled, wearing a dark blue blazer and pants, with one of those little emblems on the pocket, white shirt and striped tie. The thought was a bit more appetizing than it should have been.
“I. . .I wanted to say that I’m sorry about your mom.” She immediately regretted it when his face seemed to shut down. His eyes that were dancing only a moment before got a guarded look in them, and his once relaxed posture turned rigid.
“Thanks.” he bit off, digging for another cigarette.
“I didn’t mean o upset you.” She started, only be cut off by a wave of his hand.
“No, I’m sorry. Still hurts, you know?” He gave her a tight smile, and took a deep drag.
“I’d like to hear about her, when you feel like talking. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to mom.” She said quietly, placing a gentle hand on his arm. His face softened once again, and he nodded, a more relaxed smile curling his lip.
“Okay.” He told her, turning to face her. Willow and Xander were still watching, hopefully inconspicuously, each cheering the blonde couple on.
“Do you think they’ll. . .”Willow left the question hanging, as they moved even closer to each other. Xander shrugged, a smile playing across his features.
“If they quit playing around, yeah.” He answered, watching Spike angle so his chest was flush with Buffy’s. They didn’t even seem to realize that they were doing it, their bodies instinctively seeking the others out. Buffy’s hand was still resting on his arm, and they were barely and inch away from each other now.
Buffy looked up into the slowly darkening eyes of the man in front of her. He was so handsome, her suddenly numb brain thought. Her hazel eyes drifted to his mouth, a sudden urge to taste those lips, and see if they were as soft as they looked hitting her. Spike raised a gentle hand to her cheek, gently rubbing his knuckles along the soft skin he found there. At the last second, before he dipped his head to kiss her, she seemed to jerk awake, pressing her hand flat against his chest.
“Spike, no. I have a boyfriend.” She whispered, regret tinging her words. Anger flared briefly in his cerulean eyes, but, he quickly doused it, reminding himself the he was here, while that jerk was in another city, probably shagging every girl that would spread her legs. He gave her a breathtaking smile.
“Alright. Friends, then?” He asked, dropping his hand. Buffy felt a painful stab of regret lace through her, but, she shook it off.
“I’d like that.” She replied, barely managing to stifle the urge to grab him and kiss him stupid.
Willow and Xander let out the breaths that they didn’t know they were holding with disgust. So close, yet so far, they thought, turning away to pretend like they weren’t looking when the blondes started over to them.
“Ready mate?” Spike asked, looking at Xander.
“Always. See you ladies later?” The brunette asked, itching to get to the track now.
“Yep. Have fun watching the cars go around in circles.” Willow said, turning to go inside with Buffy. She was spending the night, and planned on using the time wisely, yet sneakily. Wouldn’t do to get her best friend pissed off because she just happened to hate her boyfriend.
“Women. No culture.” Xander said, wondering where he had failed in his duty of educating Willow in all things male.
“See you guys later.” Buffy said, sending one last lingering look at Spike before turning to follow Willow.
“Definitely.” Spike murmured, flicking his cigarette away to watch the way her jeans molded to her butt. He jumped when Xander’s hand slapped him in the chest.
“Snap out of it. You have been shot down.” He reminded him as they started to walk away.
“Nah, not shot down. Just encountered a little speed bump.” Spike countered.
“Man, you work fast. You just moved here, and you already have your sights set on someone.” Xander said.
‘Seize the day.” Was all Spike said. “No need to hedge around what you want. Just go for it.” That what his mother always told him. She had wanted his father from the second she had seen him, and she got him. Spike was just enough of a romantic to want that for himself. A wicked smile spread across his face as he looked at Xander.
“I noticed one Miss Cordelia Chase was getting awful cozy with you at the theater.” He said, wiggling his brows. Xander couldn’t quite keep the smile from forming.
“Yeah, how about that?” Awe laced his words at the remembered feel of her pressing tight against his side, and the way her perfume had dazzled his brain.
“Told you she wanted you.” Spike told him with a smirk.
“You said you were just kidding.” The brunette accused.
“Just riding you, Xan. She’s looking to go slumming. Can tell by the gleam in her eye.”
“Hey!” Xander didn’t appreciate the ‘slumming’ reference. Spike rolled his eyes.
“Anyone living off of her street is slumming. Didn’t mean it personal.”
“Oh. Right.” Xander couldn’t fault the logic.
“So, seize that day. She interested, reel her in.”
“Like you did with Buffy?” He couldn’t help getting the dig in. The blond scowled again.
“So, some women take a little more work than others. But, that’s usually the ones that are worth it.” His eyes were almost dreamy. Xander snorted.
“I guess so. But, I’m not really into getting my manhood eviscerated. And Cordy is good at it.”
“See, just what I said. All those nasty little barbs, and scathing looks? Just think of ‘em like. . .foreplay.” Xander came to a dead stop at that.
“Foreplay?” The wicked smile was back at his friends shocked expression.
“Oh, yeah. Foreplay.”
“Rupert, what are you doing here?” Joyce asked, as she walked into the gallery. Giles was sitting at the small desk next to the door, looking over a ledger.
“Just thought I’d see if anything needed to be done. Will went out tonight, and I didn’t want to putter around an empty house.” He said, giving her a smile. Joyce felt sympathy flow through her at the very obvious loneliness that permeated the man’s soul.
“Well, lucky for you, there’s inventory that needs to be done. Come on.” She told him, slipping off her jacket and walking towards the back. He rose to follow her, happy for the distraction from his thoughts.
“Er, Mrs Summers. . .” He began, following her into one of the rear storage rooms.
“Joyce.” She corrected, moving to retrieve the thick book of packing lists.
“Right, Joyce. I was wondering, what sort of boy in Xander Harris? He and Will seem to have hit it off, and I just. . .well, er. . .” Joyce smiled as he faltered for words.
“You want to make sure he’s a good influence?” She finished for him, settling onto the floor next to a small crate.
“Yes, actually. William had some problems before we left London, and I really don’t wish for a repeat of them.” He said, settling on the floor next to her to help.
“I assure you, he’s a good boy. A little immature sometimes, but he doesn’t get into trouble, and he is loyal to a fault. He doesn’t have it easy at home, but, he doesn’t let it affect him.” She informed him, not getting into details.
“I don’t mean to pry. . .” Joyce smiled at the prim tone of his voice.
“No, I understand. I asked all the same questions. However, I do not suggest actually going to meet his parents. You will leave with such a feeling of disgust.” She pulled out a small statue of an African god, checked it against her list, then set it aside.
“I don’t understand.” Joyce sighed, and looked up at him, seeing the same parental worry that she lived with daily.
“Xander’s parents are alcoholics, and I’m afraid that they don’t care very much for him. It was a sort of, oops, let’s get married sort of situation. They took it out on him. According to Buffy, the hitting stopped when Xander got old enough to defend himself. Of course that doesn’t stop the verbal abuse, or his father going after him after he’s been drinking. Sometimes Xander wins. Other times. . .” Giles appalled expression mirrored her own when she had found out.
“Dear lord. Why haven’t the authorities stepped in.” His tone was slightly accusatory.
“I was going to call, get him out of there. But, Buffy found out, and told him. He came to me, begging me not to do it. He didn’t have anywhere to go, and he didn’t want to go into faster care at his age. He’s almost eighteen. He said he’s lived with it this long, and they usually don’t notice him anymore, since he’s hardly ever home. So, I gave in. He’s at my house almost all the time, anyway, only really going home to sleep and change clothes. I didn’t see any reason to go through with it. I would take him in in a second, but, he doesn’t want to impose on me.” She smiled a bit at that. “So, no Rupert, you have nothing to worry about with him.” She finished, then bowed her head back to her work. Giles sat back, and absorbed her words.
“Poor boy.” He finally said. He couldn’t comprehend a parent that didn’t love and protect their children in the way that God intended. They were gifts to be treasured, not tortured. He silently decided to do all he could to encourage the friendship, and give the boy another safe haven to go to.
“Yes. Both of them. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for William, after his mother died.” She said, handing him a stack of invoices.
“It was a difficult time, for both of us. I’m afraid that I didn’t handle it very well.” Rupert admitted, finding it good to have somebody to talk to.
“I know it’s to the same, but after the divorce, I was a wreck. I was so blinded by the grief of my marriage ending, that I couldn’t see what was happening to my girls. Their grades started to slip, and they became unruly. Nothing to drastic, thank god, because I snapped out of it in time to help them before they spiraled to far. Luckily, the move here was just what we needed. It gave us a fresh start. They’ve been doing really well, ever since. Dawn is still a little shy, but, I figure she will grow out of that as she gets older. And Buffy. . .well, Buffy can adjust to anything. She was always resilient. I’m sure William will be fine. He’s already made a very good friend, from what I can tell, and that’s always good.”
“Yes, I believe your right. I just. . .sometimes I don’t know how to talk to him. Rosemary never had problems with that sort of thing. She was very open. And William used to be the same way, until she. . .passed.” The word came out as a whisper. Joyce smiled at him, her heart clenching at the obvious pain he was in, still.
“I’m sure he’ll be alright. Just be there for him if he needs to talk, and be persistent. Let him know who the father is, and who the child is, but don’t go overboard. He is eighteen, and even though he is still in high school, he should be allowed a certain amount of freedom. Not to much.” She said with a smile. “He has plenty of time to do all the stupid things young men do when they are out on their own. Just love him, Rupert. That’s really what it comes down to. And never let him forget that you do.” Giles nodded, taking off his glasses to scrub them. He knew she was right, but, affectionate displays never came easily to him.
“Thank you Mrs. Summers. . .Joyce.” He corrected at the look on her face. “I will think about what you have said.” He then turned away, and went in search of the box with the number that was imprinted on top of the papers in his hand. Joyce went back to her list, hoping she had helped.
“Sh.” Xander said, touching a finger to his lips as he let them inside his house. Spike nodded, and followed him through. “Ill be right back.” He whispered, darting up the stairs. They had stopped by because Xander forgot the tickets they had purchased the night before. Spike rocked on his heels in the foyer, not liking the feeling that was settling over him. This wasn’t a happy house, he could tell. Dishes covered the coffee table and beer cans littered the floor. The furniture was old and worn, stuffing popping out from the cushions of the couch. Unlike his house, there were no pictures littering the mantle or the end tables. It had an almost cold feel to it, like the house was just a place to sleep, and not a home.
“What the hell are you doing, boy!” Spike’s head whipped around at the angry voice wafting down the stairs. He didn’t hear Xander’s answer, but he did hear the sickening thud of flesh striking flesh. Just as he turned towards the stairs to do what, he didn’t know, Xander came flying down.
“Come on.” He said, throwing open the door and walking outside. Spike followed, confusion mixed with fear on his face. Xander just rushed up the street, not slowing or looking back. The blonde broke into a trot and caught up with him, pulling him to a stop,
“What the hell was that?” He asked, trying to look in his eyes. Xander kept avoiding turning his face towards his new friend. He was so stupid, he never should have forgotten those tickets And he sure as hell should have never taken Spike to the house. But, as his father said, Xander wasn’t long on brains.
“Nothing.:
“That wasn’t nothing. I heard someone get punched, and I have suspicion that it was you.” His blue eyes flashed with anger at that. In all of his eighteen years, he had never been struck with anything other than a open hand on his butt. Never more than once, and it never hurt. It had stopped almost as soon as he could understand the lectures his father was so fond of doling out.
“Look, it was just my dad. I woke him up. No big. Let’s go.”
“Dammit, Xan. Level with me.”
“Fine, he punched me. Not the first time, probably won’t be the last. He was drunk, I know better than to wake him when he’s sleeping it off. Can we drop it now?” Xander turned to look at him, and Spike saw the dark bruise starting to form on his jaw.
“Xander. . .”
“I said, drop it. Do you still want to go or not? We’re going to miss
the green flag.” Xander turned and strode away from him, his shoulder set in an
angry slump. Spike stared after him for a minute, his mind warring over what to
do. Finally, he just followed the brunette, deciding to talk to his father
about it later.
Chapter 4
Rupert shifted in his position by the front door, his eyes glancing at the clock on the mantle once more. The leather of the chair creaked as he moved, breaking the silence in the room. Anger simmered under his calm exterior as he watched the minutes pass by. Shifting again, he sipped his tepid tea, resisting the urge to go out looking for the little prat.
Bolstered by his conversation with Joyce, Giles returned home, and decided to wait up and talk to William. By the time the hour hand had eased towards two a.m., he'd been through half a box of Earl Grey, and had beaten a repeated path between the chair and the window. It was now 2:30, and Giles could safely say, to use one of his son's terms, he was pissed.
When he heard the key rattle in the lock, and the doorknob start to turn, he didn't look up. He just sat, silently waiting as William let himself in.
Spike walked into the apartment, quietly closing the door and locking it. When he turned to start to his room, he drew up short when he saw his father.
"Dad?" he asked, confused.
"William," Giles started, forcing his temper down. "Come. Sit down. I think it's time you and I had a talk." Spike's brow shot up at that. The last time he had heard that particular cool tone in Rupert's voice had been after the coppers had brought him home. Cringing inwardly at the memory of the hour long lecture, and the chilly silence that little stunt had brought on, Spike shrugged out of his duster, and moved to sit on the couch. He tilted his head, and looked speculatively at his father, wondering what was on his mind.
Giles sat, stony faced and rigid, his temper carefully controlled behind his light, blue eyes. Spike found himself absently comparing his father to Xander's, the differences making him shudder. Giles cleared his throat, pulling the blonde's attention back to him.
"It would seem, that we need to establish a few rules, William," he said, his voice clipped, his eyes snapping.
"Rules?" Spike asked, brow shooting up. "I'm eighteen," he said, barely covering his smirk.
"Yes, you are. However, as long as you are living in my house, and still in high school, you will remember which one of us is the parent," Giles shot back. "You may legally be an adult, but I assure you, you are far from being an adult." Anger flashed through the younger man's eyes.
"What's brought on all this concern, Dad? You haven't cared much for what I do in the past year," Spike accused, hurt replacing his anger. Guilt flashed through Giles' eyes for an instant, before he covered it up.
"That may be true. But, I will not tolerate anymore of the behavior that got you expelled. Nor will I tolerate another visit from the police. I most CERTAINLY will not tolerate sitting up waiting for you and being half worried out of my mind. You could have been in an accident, or worse. You couldn't' call?" Giles lost control of his temper, rising to his feet to glower down at his son.
"Thought you'd be asleep," was all the bleached blonde offered. Rupert stared down at him for minute, his eyes wide that his son could be so callous towards his worry.
"That is no excuse," he spat. "So, there are going to be rules, and you will abide by them."
"Or what?" Spike challenged, rising to his feet.
"Really want to test me, boy?" The blonde reared back at the look in his father's eyes. He blinked in shock, seeing that his father wasn't playing with him anymore. Slouching back down on the couch, Spike glared up at him, plucking aimlessly at the cushion.
"What are these 'rules'?" he asked, his tone petulant. Giles remained standing, taking deep breaths to calm himself.
"One, if you are going to be out any later than one o'clock, you will call. If you don't, you will find yourself locked out. Two," he continued, not giving Spike the chance to interrupt. "There will be no going out on week nights while school is in session, until you have proven to me that you take your studies seriously. Three, no job. Other than the occasional odd job on the weekends, or if you are helping in the gallery. Again, because of your studies. You will have a lot to make up, especially since you are starting here with only two months left. I want to meet your friends. NO argument!" He said when Spike went to do just that. "You will tell me where you are, and what you are doing at all times." Spike scowled darkly at his father, pursing his lips in anger. Giles stared down at his son, his ire slipping from him. Sitting in the chair once more, he waited until Spike looked up at him before continuing.
"I know that I was not there the way I should have been after your mother passed away." Blue eyes looked at the floor, as tears sprang to them. The blond fought them back until he could look at his father with no hint of them ever being there. Giles sighed, wondering when the boy would ever let go. He hadn't cried in the hospital, as the life slipped from Rosemary, and he hadn't cried at the funeral. All that bottled up grief couldn't be healthy for him. "This move, is a fresh start, for both of us. I will not allow you to conduct yourself the way you did in London. None of these rules are set in stone. There is give and take involved in them. You prove to me that you are trustworthy again, and I will adjust them accordingly." Another deep sigh, and Giles continued. "I love you William. I'm sorry if I don't say that enough, you know how I can be." Spike's eyes widened at his father's admission. His chin started to tremble, just ever so slightly, and he had to look away again. "I worry about you, and I need to know that you are alright. Don't ever let what happened tonight happen again. Understand?" Spike slowly nodded his head, the comparisons between his father and Xander's starting once more. He raised his eyes to look into his father's, and saw the worry, the love and the guilt. He felt something start to crack inside of him, the resentment that he held for his father since his mother got sick, and he'd had to start to depend on himself more and more, seemed to lessen as they stared at each other. His father wasn't perfect, but he was trying. The least Spike could do was give a little.
"I guess we can give it a go," he said, trying not to sound too accepting. Giles fought a smile, feeling like laughing for the first time in forever.
"Right then. Now that we understand each other, I think we could both use some sleep. Although how I'll ever get to sleep after I drank so much tea is a mystery to me." He mumbled the last to himself, heartened when he heard Spike's snort of laughter.
"Just go read one of your books. That would put an insomniac to sleep," he suggested, smirk firmly in place.
"Very amusing. Perhaps you should go on before I feel tempted to read aloud," Giles suggested, chuckling when the boy shot up from his seat and took long strides towards the hall. "William?"
"Yeah, Dad?" Spike said, turning back to face him.
"There will also be no smoking in my house. Don't think that I can't smell it," Giles said, picking up his book and starting to leaf through it. He looked up in time to see the bemused expression float across his son's face.
"Alright," Spike said with a laugh. He stared at his father for a long moment after Giles bowed his head to start reading. He thought about telling his father about what happened at Xander's, but decided to wait until the morning. "Goodnight, Dad."
"Goodnight, William."
"I love you, too." By the time Giles looked up from his book in surprise, Spike was already gone.
"Mr. Giles, I am sure that you will understand my position on this matter." Principal Snyder started, folding his hands in front of him on his desk. Spike stared down at the little man, thinking he looked like one of those ferengi things they had on Star Trek. He instantly disliked him, and from the way he was eyeballing Spike, he could tell the feeling was mutual.
"Why don't you explain it to me?" Giles asked, his tone making Spike's lips quirk into a smile. He had that 'I'm smarter than you, but I'm going to humor you anyway' tone. Mr. Snyder looked at the two Englishmen sitting across from him, the younger one an obvious troublemaker. It was written all over him, from the top of his bleached white head, to the bottom of his booted feet. His jeans were worn and ragged, and way too tight, his t-shirt offensive, and way too tight. If he hadn't seen the boy's grades with his own eyes, plus checked them for accuracy, he would never have believed that this. . .person, had pulled off a honor roll GPA in his old school. Of course, that was before he got expelled, for setting the school on fire, of all things.
"You see, Mr. Giles, the amount of credits that were transferred from his old school, were not enough. Plus, his expulsion has also made it impossible for us to allow him to start his Senior year before the fall."
"But the Board of Education assured me. . ." Giles started, sensing his son's growing hostility.
"They may have said that under normal circumstances, he would be allowed to advance up. However, setting the school on fire, is not a normal circumstance."
"Pillock," Spike muttered under his breath. Snyder's eyes narrowed into slits, but other than that, he didn't acknowledge the comment.
"So, what exactly does this mean for my son?"
"He will be required to take a double class load, as well as take tests at the end of the year to determine if he has the skills required to pass."
"You can see by his past records, that he does indeed." Giles wasn't fooled. He knew what this little man was doing. He was hoping to push Spike into walking out, so he wouldn't have to deal with a potential troublemaker.
"I could prob'ly take the bloody tests now, and graduate," Spike shot out.
"Will," Giles warned, shaking his head to get him to stop. Spike scowled, and slumped further down in his seat, glaring at the smug-looking principal.
"Well, William. That's your prerogative. You also have the choice not to be here at all. You are of age. It's up to you."
"Excuse me, Mr. Snyder, this is my son's education you are talking about so casually," Rupert snapped, wondering how this weasel was ever made principal. "I would think that you would take it more seriously."
"Oh, I assure you, Mr. Giles, I take my job very seriously." The two men stared each other down for a minute, Giles finally turning towards his son.
"It's up to you, Will." Spike pursed his lips, and glanced between his father and the Nazi behind the desk. Slowly, a sly smile spread across his face. Rupert had to suppress a shiver at the feralness of it.
"Maybe I will hang about. Don't have a mind to rush out into adult responsibility and all that. You don't mind, do you Dad?" He turned and faced his father, a look of false innocence on his face. Giles slid his glasses off his nose, fully aware of what his son was about.
"Not at all, William. If that is what you want." He quickly polished the lenses, and pushed them back onto his nose, leveling his eyes back on Snyder. It was all either of them could do not to laugh in the man's face. He looked like he had just swallowed a bucket of nails, his obvious plan of trying to get Spike to drop out failing.
"Yeah, I think so." Spike nodded slightly, clapping his hands together, and giving them a rub. "So, what's my first class?" he asked with a wide grin.
"Nazi wanker." Spike growled as he and his father left the office. "Thinks I can't handle it. Show his little ferengi ass." Giles listened as his son vented, his own thoughts along the same lines.
"William, all I ask is that you remain calm, and not let your temper get the better of you." Spike snorted, but gave him a short nod. He looked down at the schedule in his hand, snorting again for good measure. They had given him two science classes (Biology and Chemistry), two English (Grammar and Literature), two math (trig and Calculus,) and one history (Early European). With a free period for lunch. He had no electives this year, and he would have to make them up in his Senior year, provided he completed the classes he needed. Granted, he had already taken the majority of these courses, it was just a bitch to have them all piled on you at once. Too bad he could never back down from a challenge. And that little toad had definitely thrown out a challenge. He didn't want Spike in his school, so here Spike was going to stay. He was just stubborn like that.
"Don't worry bout me, Dad. I'll be a perfect little student." The blonde told his father with a smirk. Giles just shook his head, praying he wouldn't get too many phone calls.
"I'll see you after school. Try not to be too difficult," he said, a pleading tone to his voice. Spike flashed him a grin and started towards the stairs.
"Me? Difficult? Never." Then, with a salute, he was gone.
Spike entered the lunch room, his blue eyed gaze surveying the throngs of kids assembled at the round, Formica tables. To his left, he caught a glimpse of Cordelia and her group of sheep, the brunette studiously trying to ignore Xander, who was making his way towards Spike. Harmony sat next to Cordy, not caring about being subtle apparently, blatantly staring at the blonde.
"Hey man," the dark haired boy said, stopping in front of him. Spike eyed the fading bruise on his friends jaw, struggling not to scowl. He had never gotten around to talking to his father about it, never quite sure how to bring it up without sending the older man into a tizzy, or betraying Xander's confidence.
"'ello," he greeted, flashing a smile.
"Come on. The girls are over there." The pair started to move through the crowd, ignoring the whispers shooting around them about the boy that was with that loser Harris.
"Hello ladies," Spike said when they reached the table. Buffy and Willow paused in their daily fight about the necessity of math in future life, (Willow, pro, Buffy, con) to smile up at the blonde. Buffy found herself having her usual trouble thinking straight when he was around, and she quickly looked away from the heat in his eyes. Spike smirked when he saw her cheeks color, then turned to smile wide at Willow.
"How's your first day going?" she asked, twisting a pencil through her fingers. Spike shrugged a shoulder, wishing desperately for a cigarette. Xander settled in the chair next to him, straddling it backwards.
"Not too bad. Had to do that 'stand up introduce yourself' thing," he said with a roll of his eyes. Actually, it had been kinda fun. Some of the girls in the class had looked at him with disdain, whispering to themselves about the way he looked and the color of his hair. Then, he had opened his mouth, and the sound of his accent, along with the smooth, deep timber of his voice had shut them up pretty quick. Those same girls that had been heckling him, had quickly changed sides. Spike smirked as he thought of it. *Shallow little chits,* he thought. "Course, Snyder's out to get me." This caused a mutual groan to erupt from his three companions.
"Ugh. That man is SUCH a Nazi," Buffy groaned, rolling her eyes. Spike snickered at the fact that she had mirrored his thoughts from earlier.
"Yeah. But not going to let him get to me. This shit is a breeze." He threw his schedule on the table and looked around the cafeteria again, noticing that Harmony seemed to be trying to convince herself to come over to the table. He missed the wide-eyed looks of his new friends at the sight of how much Snyder had thrown on him.
"Calculus is a breeze?" Buffy said, incredulous. She had barely made it through Algebra, and was now struggling to get through Geometry, and he thought that Calculus was easy? He turned back to look at her.
"Yeah. Took it before. He's just pissed cause I'm cool and can still pull off a 4.0 GPA," he said with a grin. Willow's eyes lit up, and Xander looked at him like he had grown a second head. "Wha?"
"4.0?" Xander gasped, the only time he had ever seen one of those had been when he had accidentally taken Willow's report card home instead. "Great, another friggin' genius in the bunch. Two times the possibilities of us feeling like complete idiots, Buff," he huffed, glaring at the table in disgust. Spike's brow shot up as he looked over at the other supposed 'genius'. Willow shrugged a slender shoulder. She was used to this.
"Sounds like fun," Buffy said, miserably. Even the bleached wonder was smarter than her, she thought, a pretty pout pushing her bottom lip out. Spike had the sudden, and unmistakable urge to lean over and nip at it with his teeth. *Just friends, mate. Remember that. At least until she has drop kicked that wanker, Angel, into the land of the poofters with bad hair,* he told himself, reaching into his pocket and extracting a lollipop, to curb the need for a cigarette. He was starting to get a little embarrassed by their reactions to his grades. School had always come easy to him. It was just the memorization of facts and numbers, nothing too hard really. But Buffy and Xander were looking at him and Willow like they had discovered the secret to eternal youth, and it wasn't something he was used to.
"Look, it's not a big deal, alright."
"Yeah, tell that to Willow as she tried to guide me through the ever so thrilling explanations of why a right angle is a right angle. Why do I have to prove it, I can look at it and see it's there. Why isn't that enough?" Buffy huffed, closing her book with a slam. She found herself staring at Spike once again as he played with the lollipop in his mouth, the distinctive movements of his tongue over the candy causing very bad, very exciting thoughts to play through her mind. *Get a grip, Buff. These are not the things a girl with a boyfriend thinks about. At least when they don't pertain to that boyfriend,* she scolded herself, looking down at her book before he noticed her fascination.
"I've told you, Buffy. You can get this. You just have to apply yourself. You know what's going to happen if you don't," Willow said, closing her own book as well.
"Wha?" Spike asked, kicking Xander to turn his attention to the brunette who was trying desperately to ignore him. Xander grinned as he caught Cordelia's eyes, and she got a deer in the headlights look, before turning away, a ghost of a smile curving her lips. Spike gave Xander a 'see, I told you' look, before directing his attention back to the girls. They had both watched the little display with equal parts shock and amusement. The thought of Cordy actually coming off her high horse to even THINK about speaking to Xander was incredibly funny. Not at his expense. Hers.
"I get lost in the land of summer school hell," Buffy said.
"There are worse things," Spike said, nearly laughing out loud at the expression of pure horror that crossed her face.
"I'm supposed to go to LA for the summer, to see my dad. So, no, there are not worse things," Buffy told him. A whole summer in Los Angeles. She missed Rodeo Drive, she thought with a sigh. Not to mention, Angel would be there. For some reason, that thought didn't invoke as much excitement as Rodeo Drive. She scowled a bit as she realized that.
"Well, if Willow doesn't seem to be helping, maybe I can give it a go," he offered, trying to look nonchalant. Offering to help her with her schoolwork, very friendly thing to do, he thought. And just because it meant that he could spend extra time with her, plus get brownie points with his dad for helping out his boss's daughter, didn't occur to him at all. Nope, not at all.
Willow sent him such a look full of gratitude, he almost laughed out loud. *How hard could it be?* he thought to himself.
"Really?" Buffy looked hopeful, maybe he could do something that Willow couldn't. Like open up the top of her head and pour the information into it.
"Sure," he answered, crunching his teeth through the lollipop at the beaming smile she gave him. He swore his heart was about to burst out of his chest, and he would have willingly offered to do anything for her to get her to smile at him like that again. Just then, the bell rang, jarring him out of his poetic thoughts, and they all gathered up their books to leave.
"Bye," the girls called, as they turned to head to class. Xander and Spike turned in the opposite direction, coming face to face with Cordelia and Harmony. The boys exchanged a look, and Xander managed to drop a cool, 'I'm not affected by your presence' look on his face. Spike opted for his usual smirk, and waited for the girls to speak. Harmony gave Cordy a nudge, knocking her out of her silence.
"Look, don't take this as some sort of monumental thing," she began, eyes flicking to Xander before settling on Spike once more. He seemed the less dangerous of the two right now. Cordy couldn't believe she was about to say what she was about to say. Even if her mind kept reminding her of how nice it felt to be pressed against Xander, or the smell of the aftershave he wore. That had been in a darkened movie house, while they watched a scary movie. All of her reaction had been appropriate for the setting, even though she hadn't gone in with him. Like on a date. Like she was getting ready to do right now. Harmony gave her another nudge, and she glared at the blonde before speaking again. "We just wanted to know if you wanted to got to the Bronze, Friday. You can bring your little sidekick if you want." *That's it Cordy, nice and cool. Don't let them think that you actually want him there. Good way to save face,* she cheered herself. Spike regarded the girls for a minute, then turned to look at Xander, who was doing a crappy job of not letting his hopefulness show. He then looked back at Harmony, getting the feeling that if he DIDN'T go, all hope of Cordy and Xander going on their own was lost. Sighing inwardly, nodded.
"Sure, sounds fun," he said, trying not to roll his eyes. The things he did for his friends.
"Great," Cordy said, glancing back at Harmony, then turning to leave. The boys watched them go, one with a look of awed excitement, the other with a look of bemused terror.
"Good God. I can't believe that," Xander gasped, as they started to walk to their next class.
"You owe me," Spike snarled. He couldn't believe he was going to go, just so Xander could have a shot with the prom queen. It wasn't that Harmony wasn't pretty, she just didn't hit any nerves in him.
"I know. And I will make it up to you," Xander promised. Spike took a minute to look at the brunette, smiling at the dazed expression on his face. Then he paused to take in his wardrobe. He grimaced a bit at the corduroy pants and the oversized t-shirt, with a flannel flung over top. "What?"
"Where did you learn how to dress? LL Bean?" Xander just looked back at him, unoffended.
"Oh, as opposed to your sense of style, which seems to have come straight out of the Sid and Nancy catalogue of 'Clothes for the Hip Juvenile Delinquent'?" Xander returned, looking at Spike's ever-present ripped jeans and rock concert t-shirt. A studded belt slung low over his lean hips, and he had added a thick silver chain to his throat.
"Hey, it got you asked out, didn't it?" Spike said as they resumed walking.
"No, it got YOU asked out. It got me thrown in as the consolation prize." Spike snorted at that.
"Yeah, well, you're still buying the tickets for Saturday." They had made plans to go back to the track, Spike finding himself enraptured by the cars and the speeds that they could acquire and still be street legal.
"Fine," Xander huffed, smiling. "Hey, wanna come with to the mall. Think they got that new Motor Trends Magazine out."
"Wouldn't mind it, cept I'm under house arrest until 'I prove myself to be trustworthy'," Spike mimicked the exact resonance, and pitch of his father's upper class accent.
"Damn. What did you do?"
"He kinda got pissed that I didn't show up til two thirty in the morning. Go figure." Spike said, glancing at the clock on the wall, They were dangerously close to being late. "Shit, gotta jet. Meet me outside after school. We can head to my house," he didn't want Xander to go home.
"Yep." Xander broke into a jog in the opposite direction, and Spike rushed up the stairs, barely making it into the class as the bell rang shrilly through the halls.
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