Summary: AU; Buffy is a famous popstar and has moved to Sunnydale to get away from the pressures of stardom. There, she meets Angel...
Disclaimer: Not mine; Im just borrowing a few characters and lyrics. Don't sue.
Distribution: My site (Every Now And Then), LoD, Fanfiction.Net, anyone else just ask.
Feedback: Very much appreciated (and very much welcomed as well...in fact, encouraged).
Rating: PG-15 (for language)
AN: This is a challenge from Megan: Buffy just moved to Sunnydale from LA where she is a teen pop star (think Britney Spears) her parents moved her away from LA because she was getting to pressured. Her parents still live in LA and Buffy basically is taking care of her self. She moved into a huge house (think billionaire) with her manager/father figure Giles. She decides to be normal by attending high school. There she meets the Scooby Gang. Angel and spike are brothers and they both have huge crush on her (they have her pictures all over their walls and binders). Buffy is also a genius although no one knows. She is in a lot of classes with Willow. Please don't assume that this is one of "those" fics, cos it won't be.
AN2: **denotes thoughts** //denotes lyrics (mostly Britney songs unless noted)// Title obviously comes from 'Lucky', by Britney.
"You're onstage in two minutes," one of the annoying stage crew said to Buffy Summers, holding up two fingers as if he thought she didn't understand English. The guy was wearing a set of chunky headphones and had a few other gadgets strapped on and an awkwardly positioned mobile phone in the left-front pocket of his pants. Buffy would've burst out laughing had she not been being fussed over by the makeup crew currently doing her eyeliner. Again. They had been putting the stuff on enough times to line the eyes of the whole troupe of 30 or so dancers.
In front of her stood a dozen of the dancers all nervously warming up for the sell-out concert of Buffy's new tour. Fortunately, they had decided to keep the tour short so that Buffy could have some time off to relax and get away from the stress of superstardom. It was still two months until then but Giles and her parents had already decided where she was going to be going. All she had heard was that she would be moving to a small town not far from Los Angeles called Sunnydale and that her parents were excited to finally have a break from the stress of being in the limelight. Buffy felt the same way until she found out that she would be going to school there. Her manager was going to stay with her for the duration of her stay while her parents stayed in Los Angeles due to the demands of their own busy lives.
"You're on stage in one minute," the same guy said, this time holding up one finger. **God I wish I could give him a finger of my own and shove *his* up his ass.** Buffy checked her reflection in the mirror and wondered who designed her costume. It was pretty, not too bright, not too skimpy and very tasteful, unlike the last few she'd been forced to wear for her last few performances. Might have had something to do with her crazy ex-stylists demanding that she go for the revealing-and-sexy look and accidentally making her look like a streetwalker instead. **At least I looked like a thin streetwalker though...not that I was fat...hopefully.**
"Thirty seconds, people," the guy said again and everyone snapped to attention and took their places in the wings and listened to the MC doing his partly scripted, partly improvised speech and tried to not get butterflies or touch the curtains in the wings. They stressed every single time the importance of not touching the curtains during the rehearsal the day before and earlier that evening. Buffy was so sick of it that she'd made herself scarce during it and went off to get a quick break instead. Spending most of your life hearing it can make you kind of sick and tired of it being said...over and over again.
"Good luck everyone," Buffy tried to say over the din of the crowd screaming, cheering, applauding, going crazywhatever you want to call it, it was part of that din. She doubted anyone could hear either. The dancers were to go onstage before her and had probably missed it. **Oh well, maybe next time.**
Buffy checked that her microphone was attached securely over her ear and that the wires wouldn't get tangled and the band started playing the intro music of the first song of the program. The program had been drilled into her mind so hard that she hardly had enough room for all the lyrics as well. **Okay, here goes.** Buffy stepped out of her hiding place in the wings as the smoke machine did its work in fogging up the stage. The crowd got louder and Buffy only just saw how packed it was.//And I, I'm here to testify That you're the only one I belong to I don't know where to start It turned into an art Not to show the world that it was you//
She glanced up at the audience again while she waited for the music between the verse and the bridge and noticed that there seemed to be an equal number of guys and girls out there in the crowd that night. **Haha, Giles, I win the bet.**//You made me realize Not to compromise The fact that you and I should meet I know we're gonna get (Know we're gonna get, get)//
Buffy took her focus off the people in the audience and focused all her concentration on getting all her moves right. She'd been having particular trouble with this one move during rehearsal every single time and she'd been practicing extra hard to get it perfect. It didn't help that those annoying camera guys kept following her in every direction she went.//Bombastic love So fantastic Where I'm completely yours And you are mine And it's gonna be Exactly like in a movie When we fall in love For the first time//
The rest of the song went by in a blur when she executed the move perfectly, making her feel like she was on top of the world. The bright lights behind her turned on abruptly; as expected for the big finish. **Someone should freeze me until they invent stage lights that don't make you all sweaty. God, how the heck am I supposed to change costumes so quick if it's sticking to me? Whoa, those lights can probably give you a pretty decent tan...**
Buffy adjusted her mic and moved her hair away from her face. "Hi everyone. How are you all tonight? Good?" the roar of reply was thunderous and Buffy quickly moved on, "I hope so cos there is still *plenty* to go. And may I please say that sitting down is *not* an option."
The extended intro started to play for the next song, sending everyone into a frenzy. Buffy took the time that she'd been allowed to sign autographs for the fans standing closest to the stage, hurrying down the steps on stage-right to shake their hands, sign a few autographs and accept their gifts. **I love this. I wish I didn't have to stop...**
The concert went by for Buffy in a flurry of lights, annoying cameramen scurrying back and forth, quick costume changes, loud music, complicated dance moves and a whole lot of loud cheering.
Buffy locked the dressing room door behind her after being spotted by both of her parents, her publicist and her manager all at the same time. All she wanted was to be left alone for a while; that was all. Why did they have to go hounding on her like a bunch of...hounds? It wasn't as if she would escape out the window or hitch a ride on a garbage truck or anything, so why were they always so agitated by her being alone?
Buffy gulped down as much water as her body could handle in one go before changing into her normal clothes and collecting all her gifts and belongings into her sports bag and put all the bunches of flowers she'd received into a neat pile next to her pile of Cosmopolitans. She wondered how many 'From your secret admirer' notes she'd get this time. She'd taken an interest in collecting them whenever she found them in the bouquets and had amassed a whole drawer full of them. Some were actually quite interesting to read.
Buffy went into the adjoining bathroom to get all the gunk off her face. It made her skin feel horrible and oddly dirty. After she'd finished, she reluctantly opened the door for the five people she knew would be standing on the other sideher very supportive famous-gallery-owning mother, Joyce Summers; her workaholic, usually-absent father, Hank Summers; her manager and father figure, Rupert Giles; her evil (but extremely good) publicist, Lilah Morgan; and her personal bodyguard, Charles Gunn. Normally she didn't mind them so much, but Buffy just wasn't in the mood for their constant worrying and questioning. Except Gunn of course, he was kinda interesting to talk to when they ever got a chance to have a proper conversation.
Sure enough, there they all were, leaning against the walls on either side of the creamy white walls of the hallway though the lighting made it seem more of a peculiar green colour. Buffy ignored their presence and proceeded to get herself ready to leave. The routine signing of a few autographs and meeting a few fans on the way to her limothe same old, same old that she hated to repeatedly do after a gruelling day of rehearsal and a performance only hours after. She idly wondered how many times she'd signed her name in black marker on anything from posters to people's shirts. She'd even had her fair share of autographing the people themselves, on their arms, stomachs, cheeks, etc. She tried keeping count, but she lost her place after about 12...
Buffy slipped out a small container of Vaseline and applied it thinly to her lips and applied a little bit of mascara from the make-up box that was also sitting on her dressing table. Au naturaleexactly the look she had been going for lately. Lilah was going crazy for it, even though she never really stuck by it herself. As did the magazines, all of which had been going crazy for it ever since she first appeared in one of those "stars without make-up" articles looking as flawless as she did WITH the gunk on her face. The article had actually been a rather funny read and had even boosted her record sales for a short period of time.
"So, do you have something to tell me or can I go?" Buffy asked. She picked up her sports bag and slung it over her shoulder; the sooner she left, the better. She didn't like the place and was relieved to know that she would only be performing here a second time before moving to the next city, which was going to be San Francisco. She would then be taking the tour to Seattle and then a few of the states bigger cities in the middle like Denver, Kansas City, Oklahoma City, Minneapolis, Chicago, Detroit, Cleveland and then up to Boston before going down the East coast until she ended up in Miami for the grand opening of something or other (of what, she wasn't quite sure).
"No, nothing. We just want to discuss the details of your move to Sunnydale as soon as we can. I suppose you're a bit tired from tonight's performance, so I guess we'll have to have this discussion some other time," Giles said with a stiff British lip. Buffy had grown to love the man like he were her own fatherher real father seemed only to be there when there was something important to show forbut he always had to say everything in the longest possible ways.
"Okay. Well if no one else has anything to say, can we leave now?" Buffy asked impatiently.
"I came to discuss the Sunnydale plans as well," Lilah said in a slightly annoyed voice, "but since that's a no-go, I guess I'll be heading home."
"Good," Buffy nodded. She allowed Gunn to take her sports bag from her and scooped up the bouquets of assorted flowers from beside her Cosmos. She could already spot one 'From your secret admirer' note sticking out from the very middle bouquet of roses. That would have to go into her drawer as soon as she got home.
Her parents led the way to the back stage door, which she knew very well by now, where they met up with the smallish crew of bodyguards geared up for the stage-door-fan-frenzy.
"Let's go," the one who seemed to be in charge said gruffly. He and his men surrounded Buffy, her parents, Gunn, and Giles. The door, which a whole lot of loud screaming came from behind, was opened swiftly, causing the noise to get considerably louder.
"Finally..." Buffy muttered under her breath.
"Buffy, please don't stay too long. You need your rest," Giles said.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah...you say the same thing every time."
"Yes, and it seems to me if you never stick to it."
Buffy just glared back. Before Giles could say anything else, they were swept out the door and into the crowd of screaming fans. They stood behind the barricades, waving posters to be autographed or banners declaring 'I love you Buffy!' and some were just happy to have come within such a close proximity to their idol. Also amongst the screaming mob were several photographers snapping away for their magazines or newspapers or whatevers. Buffy wondered briefly whether the photographers ever thought to bring ear plugs...
Buffy went around and signed a few posters, talked to some of the fans and accepted gifts as she made her way to her limo with her entourage of bodyguards, parents and a Brit in tow.
When Buffy finally made it to the car, she had at least 6 more plush toys and over half a dozen more bouquets of flowers. On the way back to the Summers' residence, Buffy wondered what it would be like in Sunnydale and how they would act around her. And for the first time in a long while, Buffy wondered if she would ever find real love.
*****
Angel Ferguson lay on his stomach, in his bed, scrawling incoherently in his maths book instead of doing the homework. He had always been such a study-smart guy that he hardly ever sat down and said, "I can't concentrate on this homework," but lately he had suffered a slump in his grade with that exact problem. He supposed that it spawned from his sudden obsession with the popstar he had once thought to be a brainless bimbo who had her voice mechanically-altered afterwards. What changed his mind? Well he wasn't exactly sure...
Giving up on the maths homework, he picked up the magazine he had just bought, lying on the ground beside his bed still inside the slim paper bag that it came back from the newsagents inside. It was glossy, and the picture of Buffy Summers' beautiful, smiling face stared back at him. He tossed the paper bag bearing the words 'Sunnydale Plaza Newsagent' on the front into his wastepaper basket and flipped open the colourful teen-oriented publication. He had bought it primarily for the posterhe had a very impressive collection of over 30 and still countingbut there was also a headline reading 'Exclusive! Buffy Summers becomes a small-town gal!'. Bad headline, hopefully interesting read. Page 16...
"Buffy Summers has announced that she will be moving to a smaller town to complete her studies in high school. The Buffster has said that she will be retiring from the music biz temporarily to graduate from high school and wishes to recover from the stress of her quick shot to superstardom. Her destination has not been released to the press for obvious reasons, but she has said that it would be close to home" The rest of the article droned on and on about the press conference and about the tour and was about the blippety-blah that usually went on in these types of teen magazine articles.
Angel tore out the poster carefully and put it on his desk for putting up on the wall later...after he finished the maths homework. He paid no more mind to the article and began concentrating on his homework. It was summer break and he knew he was supposed to be out enjoying himself, but his father had put him into a maths tuition thing which he had to attend every Saturday. His grade had suffered so much that his fatherMr. "Football is everything"had expressed concerns. He could've been out playing a game of basketball with friends or checking out the girls at the beach with Spike, but he was stuck inside...with maths homework.
How exciting his life was...
Part 2
At the end of her two month tour, Buffy was left with most of August to adjust to her new life in Sunnydale. All that time to improve her tan, lounge around and become a lazy little blonde vegetable. It was the most fun Buffy had had in a long while that hadn't included loud music or screaming.
But still, she had not ventured outside. Experience told her that even WITH a hat and sunnies, people could still recognise familiar faces. The only sure-fire way would be to wear a balaclava, but it'd just be too hot and too suspicious. **And what a great fashion statement that would be...**
Her new home was situated at the top of a small hill not far from the town's centre. It was a large place; a bit too large for so few people to live in. Giles claimed that it was the only 'appropriate' place, but Buffy was convinced that Giles just fancied it for the library space that was available to keep all his books in. The house, or rather, mansion, had been bought without eating too large a hole in Buffy's bank accountwhich was surprising; when Buffy first saw the mansion, she punched poor old Giles in the arm for not telling her that he had bought such an overly large house with her money. Of course, she apologised afterwards. The estate really did have a certain "charm" to it. **Ha! Charm? More like absolute luxury.** You never really could know what was going through that man's head.
Also living at the mansion were Gunn (as per usual), a maid, a butler, a cook, a gardener and several other servants that Giles insisted that she needed. Buffy was sceptical, but didn't want to press the issue any further.
Buffy picked up the paper from the kitchen counter and flipped immediately to the cartoonsshe liked to read Calvin and Hobbes... Her small, white Maltese tagged behind her as she walked, wagging his tail excitedly. Thor, the ever energetic little dog, preferred being walked in the mornings and late in the afternoon. Since Gunn was in LA (on leave for the weekend), Buffy would have to walk him herself. **Ugh, I just KNOW that someone will recognise me...I should get a new disguise. Maybe some prosthetics and some facial hair.**
Although the neighbourhood was a very reserved and quiet one, she feared that a simple trip around the block would alert everyone prematurely of her presence. This was something she definitely didn't want, what with Gunn away in LA for the next two days...uh-uh, no way. It'd happened before, when she had lived in LA. Rumours in the magazines said that her address had been sold on the internet, but Buffy doubted it was the truth. Thankfully they moved to a different neighbourhood, one which was more populated with stars and the like.
Buffy hurriedly gulped down the glass of orange juice that the maid had poured for her and finished reading the comic she had been reading. Buffy grabbed the leash from the hook inside the laundry, with Thor at her heels the whole time, and attached it to the collar that he wore around his neck. On her way out, she grabbed a baseball cap off the hatstand and procured a pair of sunglasses from her pocket. "Let's go," Buffy sighed, letting the butler open the door for them.
Thor didn't hesitate to go tearing out the door and down the long, winding pebbled driveway, dragging Buffy along with him. For such a little dog, he could be *very* strong, and this, mixed with his persistence, made the little dog who was screaming down the drive with a bumbling blonde in tow.
Buffy waved to the gardener who was pruning the hedge along the driveway, leaving the man with a little something to chuckle about for the rest of the day.
Rounding the corner of their street, Thor slowed down to sniff at a tree before abandoning it for the next tree. Deciding it would be more appealing to pee on this particular tree, Thor did his business and they continued down the street.
Halfway down the street, Buffy spotted a tall, dark-haired young man walking a medium sized black dogor rather, the dog was walking him. The dog looked a lot like a Labrador mixed with...something else and seemed to have one ear sticking straight up and one flopping straight down. It pulled its owner along with its blue leash and was apparently doing quite well so far.
Buffy made sure that her sunglasses were, indeed, on her face and pulled the flap of her cap down a little farther. Whilst concentrating on hiding her face, she neglected to notice the handle of Thor's leash sliding over her wrist and falling loosely in her hand. With a new-found fervour, Thor tugged and found himself free of Buffy's hold. As quick as his little legs could carry him, the small white Maltese raced down the road, toward the black Labrador mixed...and the guy.
Angel kept his eyes on the path, running through the formulas he needed to know to do the maths homework that still sat untouched on his desk. While his dog, Bertha Blue, stopped to sniff at the next telegraph pole, he looked up and saw a small white dog running toward him with a leash flapping behind it. Chasing after it was a girlslim, blonde and petite all 'round. Though he could hardly see her face, he could swear that he recognised her from somewhere. **But where?**
Angel wrapped Bertha Blue's leash around his wrist twice and prepared to try to help this mysterious girl with her dog. **Couldn't hurt to flirt a little too, right?** Angel grabbed Thor's leash as he got closer and halted the tiny dog's motion.
Buffy caught up eventually and picked Thor up from the ground and tucked him under her arm. "You cheeky little thing, don't ever do that again," Buffy said to Thor. She smiled at the guyokay, incredibly gorgeous guyand said, "Thanks. I guess my attention span isn't too good."
"No problem. It happens to me all the time," Angel squinted from behind his dark sunglasses and swore he had seen this girl before. **Was it the girl who worked at the Espresso Pump? No, she's taller. Or is it that girl in Advanced Chem with me? No, definitely not her.** "I'm sorry, have I met you before?"
**Oh no. The first few minutes out of the house and I'm already being recognised? Yeah, sure, it's gonna happen sooner or later, but I would've preferred it to have been later...** "No, I don't think we have," Buffy replied. She dropped her head down and tried not to look at the complete yumminess of the guy standing in front of her. **Muscles and dark, mysterious eyes...the two things I just *happen* to find irresistible...**
"No, I know I've seen you before. I just can't..." Angel searched his memory. He'd seen this girl before...
Buffy faked looking at her watch, "Oh my God, I'm sorry. I'm going to be late. Giles is going to kill me. Thanks for your help!" With that, she put Thor back on the ground and held tightly onto the leash. Giles really was gonna kill her... She waved goodbye and jogged back the way she came. **Oh God, oh God, oh GOD...fuck.**
"Giles? I've heard that name before," Angel mumbled to himself. He tugged lightly on Bertha Blue's leash and they were on their way once again. Angel shrugged; Murphy's Law always applied to himhe wouldn't remember if he tried so hard. It would come to him eventually...
Rounding the corner that Buffy had disappeared around, he spotted the girl entering the gates of the McMillan estate...or rather, the ex-McMillan estate. It was no secret that the place had been sold a few months ago for an amount that would probably stick as Sunnydale's highest property selling price for the next four or five centuries. And, indeed, the sum had been *very* generous. A little TOO generous, his stepfather had commented. **He probably thinks they're a bunch of crime lords come to set up shop in Sunnydale...**
Angel watched as the girlwhom had remained a mystery to himbounded up the driveway and disappeared into the mansion. Angel shook his head. **No time to think about picking up girls or else Darla's gonna kill me... If only I knew who this girl was...**
Angel crossed the street to his own house. It was almost directly opposite the estate; only one house down from the one that was. **Must be a nice view.** Angel took Bertha Blue inside only to be greeted by the sight of his stepbrother, William (a.k.a. Spike, as he insisted everyone should call him) and his girlfriend, Faith, curled up on the living room couch.
"Oi, Peaches, your mum said she wanted to 'have a word' with you," Spike said with a grin, "she did *not* look very happy."
"Great...what now?" Angel muttered under his breath, unhooking the leash from the collar around Bertha Blue's neck. He gave the dog a little pat on the back and sent him in Spike's direction.
"Oh shit," Spike screamed, leaping off the couch, pushing his girlfriend away as he tried to escape. But Bertha Blue was quicker. She had him pinned to the back of the sofa and completely covered Spike's face with dog slobber.
Faith, the ever loyal girlfriend, stood back and was almost rolling on the ground laughing.
"You'll pay for that!" Spike yelled after his stepbrother, who continued into the house to find his mother. Spike glared at Faith and struggled to push off the large (and very determined) dog.
Angel ran up the stairs and followed the sound of the hairdryer. His father had died when he was seven and his mother married Spike's father a year later. They had grown up, for the greater part of their lives, together, yet they could hardly stand each most of the time. They were almost like a normal family. He almost even accepted his stepfather as being his ownwell, at least as close to it as he could imagine.
Angel found his mother at her dressing table picking out some earrings from a jewellery box that sat tucked away in her drawer. She picked out a pair of dangly pearl ones that contrasted well with her dark brown hair. Angel had always thought that she looked absolutely stunning whether she was dressing to go to work or to go to a formal event.
"Mom?" Angel knocked on the door. He stepped into the room cautiously. **What'd I do now? Left the toilet seat up? I doubt it.**
"There you are. I was starting to think that Spike had forgotten," she said more calmly than Angel had been expecting her to.
"He told me that you were angry about something."
"He did? The big fibber. I was angry at his father. I just wanted to talk to you before I go out for lunch with Margot and the girls from the club," his mother said while she carefully attached the earrings to her ears. Margot, his mother's best friend who had been as such since they had been in high school together and the society women from the country club that was about an hour's drive out of Sunnydale oftentimes shared lunch to gossip and catch up on each others lives. Angel found it kind of interesting until he discovered that he was sometimes the topic of discussion.
"What about?"
"Relax, you're not in trouble. I'm just concerned about you and this new girlfriend of yours, Darla. You and I both know that Darla is bad news. I trust your judgement, but we're just concerned about the grades that you received last semester and about what your maths tutor spoke to us about your progress," she said, pursing her lips. Maryann Ferguson-Black NEVER pursed her lips. "We just want what's best for you..."
Angel gulped. Of all the things he'd guessed that she wanted to talk to him about, Darla's name had never popped into his head. "So you think my grades were influenced by Darla? Or are you just trying to break us up because you disapprove?"
"Even Margot thinks you can do better than Darla-"
"And I'm supposed to care what she thinks. Grace thinks, Reagan thinks, Mrs. McFarland thinks, even your secretary thinks. Don't *I* ever get to think for myself?" Angel asked angrily. He knew that his mother and her friends meant well, but his father had always taught him to do what he thought was right and not to listen to the opinions of everyone else. But then again, they say that the dead do no wrong. "I'm sorry mom. I just...don't want to talk about it."
Angel walked out of the room without breaking eye contact with his mother and went back to his room to *try* to do his homework and his mind off the mysterious girl he had just met.
Part 3
"Buffy! Where on Earth have you been? We were worried," Giles asked furiously as soon as Buffy stepped through the door.
"I was taking Thor for a walk," Buffy replied cheerfully. She unhooked the leash from the collar and hung it up on one of the hooks in the coat closet by the door. She picked Thor up from the ground and lovingly nuzzled the adorable little dog. "Doesn't he look cute today?"
"Please, Buffy, don't try to change the subject. You went outside without Gunn-"
"And without informing you?" Buffy finished for him. "Tell me, Giles, can't I have any semblance of a normal life? Isn't that the purpose of coming here in the first place?"
"Of course, but-"
"But nothing. Please, Giles, can you just drop it?" Buffy asked tiredly. She returned Thor to the ground to allow the maid to give him a drink of water.
"Fine, but I hope this won't happen again. I am your legal guardian for the next 12 months and I don't want anything...unseemly to happen to you," Giles said. He sighed when Buffy didn't reply; he took his glasses off and cleaned them with a handkerchief that he always carried with him in his pocket. "Well, now that you're back, we can discuss the details of your time at Sunnydale High. The school was kind enough to fax me a few things about extra curricular activities and the like."
"Giles?" Buffy asked in a childish voice.
"Yes, Buffy?" Giles asked in an exasperated tone of voice.
"Can I be a cheerleader?"
Giles just sighed and led the way to his office. **This is going to be a long day...**
*****
"Hey Willow, do you know anything about the supposed new girl?" Xander Harris asked his childhood friend, Willow Rosenberg.
"There's a new girl? How come I never find out these things? You're always the one to tell me." She put her homemade lunch into her locker and hoped that it would stay fresh in there until it was time for lunch. She admired the small arrangement of Buffy Summers pictures on her locker door beside the pictures of herself and Oz that she had only put up a few minutes ago which had been taken over the Fourth of July holiday.
"So you don't know anything about it?" Xander asked again.
Willow rolled her eyes and turned back to face Xander. "If I didn't know about it in the first place then how can I know more than you?"
"Huh?"
"Never mind. I don't know anything," Willow said, slamming her locker door closed. "Have you seen Oz yet?"
"Umm...no. But, hello? New girl?"
"God, Xander. Do you ever think about anything else?"
"No. Sometimes I think about...okay, so you're right. Not that that's anything new," Xander said and slumped against the locker next to Willow's.
Today was only the first day of schoolit hadn't even begun yetbut Xander was already counting down the days until summer break...graduation as well, of course...
"Willow, why did you bring a homemade lunch?" Xander said as the thought suddenly came to him. "We're seniors now. We can go off campus to have lunch if want, remember?"
"Well, well, umm...the, well, Miss Calendar, she...well, nothing. What if, wha-"
"Okay, Willow. Just, CALM DOWN. Relax a little. Hey, we're seniors."
"But what if they change the rules a-and I mar my unblemished record?" Willow asked; she was paranoid and she knew it.
"What rules?" Oz asked, abruptly announcing his arrival.
"Oz! You're here! Good. Isn't that good, Xander?"
"Did you hear about the new girl?" Oz asked casually.
Willow's smile turned into a frown when a Xander gave her a 'see? It wasn't just me' kind of look.
"You really need to get a life, Xander."
*****
The hallways of Sunnydale High School were buzzing with excitement. Summer was over, school was back, freshmen were lost in the school's maze of hallways and gossip was in the air.
"I heard that the new girl's supposed to be Liesel Matthews, you know, that girl who was in A Little Princess?" Harmony Kendall said to the rest of the girls crowded around her.
"Isn't she, like, 9 years old?" Cordelia Chase asked sceptically.
"Oh no, she's, like, eighteen now."
"And you know that how?" Cordelia raised her eyebrow at her friend suspiciously.
*****
"'Did you hear about the new girl? Did you hear about the new girl?'" Spike mocked as he walked through the halls alongside his girlfriend and stepbrother. "Sodding ponces..."
"Why oh why do you keep using that stupid fake English accent?" Faith counter-mocked. "I think a new girl is exactly what this school needs. Am I the only one who feels that it's just...boring all the time?"
"You're not the only one," Angel muttered under his breath. He just spotted Darla at the other end of the crowded hallway. "Fuck. There's Darla. Cover for me." With that, he ducked down and slipped into the adjoining hallway and ran outside, afraid for his life. He had only been dating Darla for two weeks for a bet that he had lost when he had been at much too rowdy beach party. Not that it was all bad...she just became a bit...schizo, not to mention possessive; she had serious attachment issues. **Just two more weeks to go and I'm as free as a...person like me should be.**
"Sure, whatever...'Be my slave Spike!'" Spike whinged under his breath so that only Faith could hear. "Just cos he's Mr. Big Shot Football Guy, doesn't mean we all have to drop to our knees..."
"Get over it Spike," Faith replied and swerved to one side to avoid a girl who was carelessly waving around a lollipop as she talked, accidentally bumping into Darla for her efforts. "Darla! How are you? Did you have a good summer?"
"Whatever," Darla said irritably. "Where's Angel?"
"He had to go the library to settle some overdue book fees," Spike filled in for Angel. He knew that it'd work, 1) because she hated the library and had probably never actually ever been inside it, 2) because she thought that the librarian, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, was a schizo, and 3) because she is, and always will be, gullible.
"Oh...never mind then..." Darla replied with a frown.
*****
Angel walked quickly around the other side of the building. He still needed to go to his locker. He had amassed a collection of new things to put up in his locker and had all of seven minutes to do it. Not looking where he was going, he accidentally bumped into a girl...who happened to be...
"Cordelia. How was your summer?" Angel pretended to care. He was in no mood to talk to Cordelia, of all people. **Why are you punishing me, God?**
"Not bad. We went to Hawaii for two weeks and I got a really good tan but nothing very exciting. I'm sure yours was much more interesting though," Cordelia gave him her brightest smile.
Angel cringed. "Actually, it was kinda bad...and I'm kind of in a hurry. Seeya 'round." He took off in the direction he was originally headed towards leaving behind a thoroughly shocked and disgruntled Cordelia Chase.
Finally arriving at his locker after a few run-ins with his various other friends, he was only left with two minutes in which to put redo his locker. It'd always been bare, with only a crude sticker that Spike had jokingly stuck on and had stuck too hard to remove without using up a large chunk of his time. Not worth it. Good thing he had better things to stick over it though...
He stuck his favouritea pic of Buffy Summers taken in a photo shoot for Detourover the offensive sticker. He quickly shoved the rest of the pictures into his locker along with a video he had to return to a friend and slammed it shut...revealing a petite blonde girl behind it...the same girl who he had met last week when he had been walking Bertha. In her hand was a piece of paper with her timetable and locker combination printed on it and her other hand fiddled with the lock on the locker's door.
"You know, I never did find out your name," Angel said to her smugly. He still had no idea what she looked like...she was again wearing a hat and sunglasses. She seemed to want to hide her face.
"Well, I guess everyone will know it soon enough," Buffy replied, struggling to open the damn locker. So far no one had recognised her and she wasn't exactly rejoicing at the idea of having home room...the evil thing called 'roll call' would exist in that time period and it didn't really seem like a joyous kind of prospect.
Angel lightly thumped twice on the door near the lock and the door sprung open. "I saw it in a movie once. I thought I might try it," he shrugged.
"The movie was Casper. And if I recall correctly, the guy flirted with the girl after helping her out and then his evil, bitchy girlfriend showed up," Buffy said.
"Oh, how convenient. I believe mine is currently hunting me down," Angel said. "She's evil, bitchy AND annoying. How's that for three birds with one stone?"
"Pretty impressive," Buffy laughed. She closed her locker again and turned the piece of paper over to check her timetable. "Uh, I have Advanced Chem first period. How about you?"
Angel shrugged. "I don't know yet. We don't get our timetables until homeroom," the bell rang, "which is now. And I still don't know who you are. You see, I'll be telling all my friends I met this incredible girl and I won't be able even tell them what her name is." Angel joked with her as they started down the corridor.
Buffy hesitantly pulled him to the side of the bustling corridor and lowered her head. "Well then I hope you're not too big of a bragger," Buffy said nervously and carefully removed her sunglasses. She stared up at him with a slightly sheepish expression. "Busted, huh?"
Angel gulped. **Breathe in, breathe out. Just keep on going. You can do it. Don't lose your cool now, Ferguson.** "Buffy Summers..." he managed to squeeze out under his breath. "Well, uh, I'd...be Angel. Angel Ferguson."
Buffy quickly put her sunglasses back on and they continued down the corridor with Angel continually reminding himself to breathe in and out, in and out. "See? It doesn't help when you find out."
"Maybe you should've warned me."
Buffy laughed, "You make it seem as if I have a gun pointed to your head. Relax. I don't bite, I swear." She glanced appreciatively down at Angel's outfit, "Although if you keep wearing those leather pants I might have to revise that."
Part 4
Buffy entered homeroom with a sense of apprehension. Not only did she not look forward to having her name called out, she also dreaded finding out if she had really said what she had to Angel. She knew she was thinking it, but if she really did say it...oh boy. Buffy found a seat near the back of the room next to a pleasant-looking red headed girl who was chatting in hushed tones with the guy sitting next to her. The guy had dyed hair and seemed to Buffy to be a rocker-type.
Upon noticing Buffy, Willow turned her attention away from her boyfriend and to the unfamiliar blonde girl sitting at the desk next to hers; the now-infamous 'new girl'.
"Hi, I'm Willow. Welcome to Sunnydale," she said cheerfully. "I think you're popular already; the whole grade's been talking about you and we still don't even know what your name is."
Buffy shrugged. "I got here a little bit later than I intended to so the only people I've actually met is Angel Ferguson...and, well, the principal. My name's Buffy," she shook hands with Willow nervously. This girl seemed nice enough...
"Willow Rosenberg," the teacher called out.
"Present," Willow replied. She turned back to Buffy and said, "Buffy, as in Summers?"
Buffy shifted in her chair. "Well..."
"Buffy Summers," the teacher said with a slight curiosity. The teacher was youngnot as old as most of the facultyand thus wasn't in the dark aboutsuch things.
"Umm...present?" Buffy replied sheepishly. At that moment she wished the earth would open up and swallow her. But as luck had it, this was the kind of place where wishes didn't come true and didn't having people-eating classroom floors. Every person in the room turned to stare at her. There were also several gasps including one from Willow, who was shocked to find that she had talked to her favourite star in the whole wide world and not even realised it.
"Would you mind removing the hat and sunglasses Miss Summers?" the teacher asked with a frown. She was a history teacher and was always sceptical of everything that was without proof.
Buffy complied (reluctantly) and removed her beige crusher hat and her brand new Gucci shades. She smoothed her hat-hair down self-consciously and braced herself for the round of 'oh my God's that was sure to occur.
"Oh my God," the teacher muttered. As did Oz, Willow and the rest of the class.
"Okay..." the teacher said, barely managing to reign in the shock in her voice. She turned her attention back to the marking of the roll. "Darla Sutherland?"
"Here."
"Robert Talbot?"
The teacher continued calling the roll and handing out the timetables and reading the notices. Among the notices were various tryouts, club announcements and a request for volunteers to be in the Homecoming Dance Organising Committee.
The bell rung right on time and Buffy found that most of the students weren't in such a hurry to leave. In fact, she could see a few heading in her direction and glanced around her for help. **Ooh, Willow.** "Willow?"
"Yeah?" Willow asked nervously. Her eyes were wide and her hands shaking as she picked up her books.
"Could you please tell me where room," Buffy looked down at her timetable, "109 is?"
Willow glanced down at her own timetable, "I think I'm in the same class. Advanced Chemistry?" She raised her eyebrows. **I'm sure she's not stupid, but ADVANCED? Even *I* have trouble in that class...**
"Yeah. I'm glad there'll be a familiar face then," Buffy smiled brightly. She put her hat back on as well as her shades and the two girls headed toward the Science block. She hoped that word hadn't spread too quickly, but she could always dream. She received a couple of stares as they passed through the corridors but she busied herself in conversing with her new friend and barely noticed.
"What's it like? You know, being famous?" Willow asked excitedly. After talking to the girl for only two minutes, she found that it got easier and easier to talk to her and was much more down-to-earth than she seemed.
"I always get asked that, you know? And to tell you the truth, I'm not sure. It just goes by so quick that you hardly even notice it."
Willow nodded. "I can imagine... I don't think I'd be able to cope with the pressure if I were you." Willow steered them into the classroomroom 109and they took seats near the back of the room. "I wonder which teacher we'll have," Willow wondered aloud.
"Thanks," Buffy said with a slight smile.
"What on earth for?"
"For not being all paranoid around me."
"What about me?" Buffy took her glasses off and lifted her gaze to again see the very masculine form of Angel Ferguson.
"You, too, then," Buffy smiled. "Advanced Chem? And I thought you were one of those stereotypical jock-types."
"And I thought you were one of those stereotypical celebrity-types," Angel said, raising his eyebrows pointedly. He took a seat next to Buffy and nodded a greeting to Willow.
"Point taken," Buffy replied. "I guess we all have layers then."
"Angel's actually quite smart...but he doesn't like to admit it," Willow said with a smirk. "He just gets distracted too easily."
Angel shrugged sheepishly, "What was it? Toll House cookies, football, loud dogs, daydreaming, flashy cars, newspaper articles...the creases on my palms? I think I pretty much got distracted by all of those things while being tutored by yours truly," Angel cocked his head in the red head's direction, "Willow the Genius."
The teacher entered the room, only arriving late because he had been held up by Principal Snyder. Dr Gregory was not only pleased to learn that he had a celebrity in his class, but a pretty darned smart one too. He clapped his hands twice to gain the attention of his class.
"I'm sure you're all still excited about the summer break but, as most of you already know from taking this class last year with Mr Thomason, this class covers a lot of topics and we only have so much time to cover it in. This is Advanced Chemistry, so if any of you are planning on slacking off and not doing your homework then I suggest you pick a different course. And yes, sadly enough, you'll be having me this year," Dr Gregory said with a smile.
The class burst into laughter. It was a *very* well known fact that Dr Gregory was the nicest teacher in the faculty and the only science teacher who not only had a doctorate, but a good many years of practical experience in the field of chemistry. He even knew the periodic table like the back of his hand.
"You know we love ya, Doc," one of the other students in the class said.
"Right, well, now that's cleared up, I'll issue your textbooks and then we can get on with the lesson," Dr Gregory continued. "I hope you don't object to arrange seating. It's easier for me, and you. It helps me to see who's absent, to help my deteriorating memory remember your names and to avoid any...disagreements. The seats you are all currently in will be the ones you'll keep for the rest of the year."
The lesson went by before they knew it and armed with brand new text books, a lesson plan and a few things to revise on for homeworkjust to refresh their memories. Talking about revising...
"Umm, Angel?" Buffy asked as she packed up her stuff.
"Yeah?"
"Did I say that stuff aloud? You know, about your pants?" Buffy asked shyly. **Shyly? Whenever did I get shy? I'm not shy. Then why am I shy? I can't be shy. Celebrities aren't shy... Oh, don't flatter yourself, Summers.**
"I'm afraid you did. Unless I was reading your thoughts," Angel replied with a smirk. He had gradually become comfortable around her presence and less than an hour after meeting her, he felt as if he could carry a normal conversation with her. **Of course, I feel as if I can make pigs fly at the moment too...**
"Damn. I was *so* hoping I wouldn't embarrass myself on my first day," Buffy said with an admittedly flirtatious smile.
"Why were you embarrassed?" Willow asked, all of a sudden joining into the conversation. She had been discussing the text with Amy Madison, to help her re-understand it. Apparently, she had missed out on that part of the topic the year before because of the death of her mother and hadn't ever caught up on it. "Unless..."
"Don't worry, Willow. It isn't too extraordinary. What've you got next?"
"I think I have English," Willow checked the timetable. "Yep, English. Room 203."
"Cool, I'm in the same class...again," Buffy exclaimed excitedly. "I wonder if we have any other classes together..." Buffy headed toward the door leaving Willow and Angel a few paces behind.
"She's nice," Willow whispered to him. "And she's smart. Wouldn't it be cool if we became really good friends or whatever? She's nice," she repeated and left Angel behind to catch up with her.
"Yeah, she is," Angel said to himself. **Just two weeks to go, buddy. I don't even know how I lasted so long...**
*****
Throughout the day, Buffy gradually eased into her new 'normal Californian teenager' role and had ditched the stupid disguise. She didn't care about being recognisedheck, it was bound to happen anyway. She decided that it was better to embrace itshe was going to be there for a while.
Her new friendship with Willow was already beginning to blossom and the two girls discovered that they had many of their classes together and she had even met the rest of Willow's friends. As well as the ever-charming, Miss Cordelia Chase...in Buffy's opinion, Cordelia was...rather bracing. **I wonder if her role model is Victoria Principle...it's possible...**
"Buffy!"
She turned to the sound of the voice and spotted Angel jogging toward her.
"Are you going home already?" Angel asked hurriedly.
"Yeah, cos you know, end of school..." Buffy frowned.
"Do you...do you wanna stay for the tryouts?"
"Oh my God, how could I forget? My memory is really bad... I'm *so* sorry. Tell you what? I'll meet you after your tryouts and then we can walk home, grab a coffee together or whatever. You just reminded me about this...thing I was going to do."
"And what might that be?"
"Don't worry, you'll find out," Buffy said mysteriously before turning around to head the way she was originally going. Angel was left by himself to watch her walking away from him. But not for long...
"Angel?" Darla's voice asked from behind him, startling him out of his musings.
"Darla..." Angel grumbled back. He REALLY regretted this now... **I have (or had) a really good chance with Buffythe most beautiful woman on the face of the earthbut Darla is here to ruin it all...bitch. There's too much to lose here. I can wait two weeks...unless some other guy catches Buffy's fancy by then.** "What do you want?"
"Just a kiss," Darla said innocently.
"Whatever, I don't care." Angel kissed her quickly, not caring about her motives or whatever strange something or other she might've had up her sleeve. He was late for tryouts and it was better to have her out of his hair instead of clinging to him until he complied. He'd learnt that lesson quickly.
Darla peeked out of the corner of her eye to see the expression on Cordelia Chase's face. Queen C had been chasing after the hottest property in SHS (namely, Angel Ferguson) for years and Darla felt the need to rub it in her face. All's well that ends well.
"I'll see you later then?" Darla asked, licking her lips for Cordelia to see.
"Whatever," Angel replied, before dashing off to the tryouts. The coach needed help choosing new players for the teamno escapeand had a zero-tolerance on lateness. Well, unless you were his star quarterback, but there were always limitations...being 10 minutes late because of his love-life being one of them.
Darla huffed. **If that guy wasn't so fuckable, THEN I'd be offended.**
*****
"Cheerleadin' tryouts?" Gunn laughed. "Whatchu doin' tryin' out for cheerleadin'?"
"Why not?" Buffy frowned.
"Nothin', nothin'...suit yourself," Gunn said. "Although, there IS one condition."
"And what would that be?" Buffy asked, even though she knew what he was going to say.
"Can I watch? All those hot girls in short skirts jumping around and being all acrobatic? Man, I haven't gotten any of that kinda action for a LONG time. How completely sad is that?"
"Be my guest," Buffy grinned.
She grabbed the gym bag from the back seat of the long, black limousine parked in the student car park and hurried back into the school, eagerly wanting to do what she did best...well, besides singing and all that stuff. **Gosh, I haven't done cheerleading since freshman year...**
Go to Part 5