Part 5

Gunn settled himself on the bleachers inside the school's gymnasium and contentedly watched the steady stream of girls flooding in for the cheerleading tryouts; both to watch and to tryout for a place on the squad. Could he really help it if he had natural hormonal urges to satisfy? He honestly didn't have any control over such urgesscientifically proven stuff too...he supposed.

A loud whistle was blown to draw the attention of the mass of girls crowded all over the bleachers. "Quiet, please!" A voice shouted.

A group of girls who Gunn supposed was part of the current cheerleading squad stood with a certain air of authority at the edge of the court, inspecting the faces of the young hopefuls among the crowd. Cordelia was surprised with the turnoutthey only had a few spots vacant, not including the freshmen they were "required" to enlist.

"Thank you," the voice said again. "Welcome to the tryouts for SHS's cheerleading squad. Good luck to everyone and try to keep your ears open and your voices down. Hi, I'm the squad's captain, Cordelia Chase, and we're going to be judging on your routine memorisation speed, flexibility, strength of voice and your ability to perform. We don't have enough time to audition all of you one by one, so please bear with us on this...procedure. Okay?"

A chorus of 'okay's came from the bleachers.

"Good. Firstly, we'll do a quick head count, split you into groups and teach you a short routine. Each group is going to perform the routine and if we feel as if you're not capable of memorising routines quickly, then we'll be letting you go. And so on and so forth until we have our final selections for the squad."

Gunn almost fell asleep after five minutes of listening to the brunette (a pretty hot brunette; but snobby-looking) go on and on about procedure this, procedure that; freshman this, groups that. He was surprised he hadn't conked out during the first two minutes. Not surprisingly, after the five minutes were up, they had begun to really get into it. **Girls in short skirts, jumping around, being all acrobatic...now I know there really is a God. Amen. Where's Buffy anyway?**

*****

Buffy crept into the gym later than she had anticipated, after being held up by...people. **More like drooling over the football guys...** She stuck her head through the door and hoped that nobody had noticed her lateness. Unfortunately, luck wasn't with her at that particular moment.

"Looking for something?" The one and only Cordelia Chase asked pleasantly, with a much-too-fake smile that made Buffy wonder if her own fake-smiles looked so...hmm.

"Yeah. Umm, sorry. I was kinda held up by some...stuff. Is that okay?"

"Sure. You can join the group in the corner over there. We're just doing routine memorisation. You know, that kind of thing," Cordelia said, pointing to the far corner which consisted of about ten other seniors.

Buffy nodded and headed in that direction, leaving her stuff with Gunn as she crossed the room. Buffy rolled her eyes at the gasps and much too familiar silence that resounded from the other groups of cheerleader-wannabes; mostly freshmen, sophomores and with just a small handful of juniors.

"Hi," Buffy greeted her group. There were nine seniors including a girl in her cheerleading uniform, teaching the routine to her group in a fashion that would be hard to follow. For some people. Buffy had been dancing since the tender age of threeenough to be able to learn steps and routines at the drop of hat and had a knack for performing them. She figured that this audition/tryout would be a piece of cake compared to her pre-concert preparations and rehearsals. **Good for me...you know, theoretically.**

"Hi," the cheerleader replied brightly as did the rest of the group, each stopping briefly to flash Buffy a smile although each inwardly wondering if their own performances would be degraded by hers.

"Okay, let's go over the steps again," the cheerleader (who had not yet even introduced herself to Buffy) said turning away from the group and counting them in. Buffy watched the series of steps and put them to memory. The steps seemed familiar...but Buffy couldn't remember where she had seen them before. The group repeated the sequence a few more times, giving Buffy the time to learn the rhythm and timing of the moves. Buffy watched, not really needing the practisethe steps weren't THAT hard. It was like doing pliès: demi-pliè, grande-pliè, change positions, and repeat.

"Okay, now we're going to try it with the music," the nameless cheerleader said, pressing play on the tape deck which was sitting on the first row of seats on the bleachers, "without my help." The girl sat herself down next to the tape deck and watched with a sly smile spread across her face. Until she realised what song had been picked...and where the much-too-familiar steps came from.

Buffy hummed the familiar tune of the song, finally recognising where the steps had come from. They were simplified from the music video for this song... **What was it called again? Oh yeah, "Anticipating" or something like that.**

//Top down, on the strip Lookin' in the mirror and I'm checkin' out my lipstick Girlfriends up in the back Were out for an all night Feelin' so crazy cool But that's alright Don't know what they're ready for Valet baby, here's the keys We're about to step inside// Buffy executed the moves perfectly, concentrating on doing it the way they had shown instead of the (much) harder version of it from the video. She sung the lyrics quietly in her head, keeping in time to the music and sensing the stares that were sure to be present.

//Skip on the drinks Head to the floor Makin' my way Past the show My body's taken over And I want some more// Cordelia strode over to their group and pushed the 'stop' button of the tape recorder. "Okay, I think that's enough. We'll see this group perform first," Cordelia said bitterly, narrowing her eyes at the sight of Buffy. Rumours were already bouncing all over the school about Buffy and Angel being a possible couple in the very near future. Cordelia didn't like that idea too much, but being the competitive person she was, she also wanted recruits for her squad to actually be good, really good. **Oh yeah Cordy, spite yourself some more...oh, and while you're at it, go bite yourself in the ass, too.**

At the end of the first and second rounds, there were only 4 seniorsincluding Buffyand about 15 girls left from the other gradesmostly freshmen.

Gunn watched from the other end of the gymnasium, carefully studying the girls thatfor one reason or anotherwere still hanging around like a personified flock of sheep. Some of them had even talked to him, but none had interested him except for the commanding brunette by the name of Cordelia Chase. Gunn liked confidence in a woman. **God, look at that body. Can't say I'm complaining...**

Gunn flicked his gaze back to his charge and checked the box that was beside 'Safe during tryouts' on his imaginary checklist. No creepy men, no cameras, no crowding. **Except for these girls...hey, hold on a sec...**

"Okay, we'll have a five minute break and then we'll do the individual auditions," Cordelia announced, just to be disregarded by the people who flocked towards Buffy to get her to sign her autographon notebooks, binders, caps, and anything else they could find. Gunn stood up to help out, but Buffy gave him a Look that told him to sit his ass down. **Okay, not arguing. I got bad experiences with flocks of girls anyway. Ooh, there's Cordelia.**

Gunn got up again and headed down the bleachers and headed towards the cheerleaders, who were struggling to move a large table out onto the court. **No better way to meet girls than to help them out with stuff...or so Marcus says.**

"Hi," Gunn said to Cordelia, "need help moving that?"

"Sure...whatever. Be careful though, it's heavy."

Gunn lifted one end of the table easily, much to the surprise of Cordelia and the rest of her helpers. The girls immediately lifted the other end and moved it right under the basketball hoop where the chairs were already set up.

Gunn was thanking Marcus inwardly as he saw Cordelia approaching him out of the corner of her eye. He stuck out his hand, "Gunn."

"Cordelia," she answered, shaking his hand. "Thanks for the help. You workout?"

"Only when I get time," Gunn answered with a shrug. "My job is kinda time consuming."

"Really? That leads me to wonder why a guy with a busy schedule is hanging around at a high school, perving on the girls trying out for cheerleading," Cordelia commented, half jokingly and half seriously.

"Me? Perving? No way," Gunn lied.

"Yeah, cos that's believable," Cordelia turned away to grab the box of comment slips that were needed for the judges to fill in for each applicant. She laid them outone in front of each chairand turned back to face Gunn.

"It's true. I'm a bodyguard."

"For who? An invisible Chelsea Clinton?"

"Close but not quite," Gunn said proudly. "For her," Gunn cast his gaze in Buffy's direction.

"Uh-huh, and I'm the Easter Bunny," Cordelia said sarcastically. She looked back up from the box. "You're serious," she stated, pausing for a moment to think of the possibilities. "Must be a Hell of a job then..." **I wonder if he has connections...wow, I could be, like, an overnight superstar...**

*****

Buffy signed the last autograph and checked her watch. **Shit, it's getting late. I hope they won't finish their tryouts too early...**

Buffy scanned the room and found Cordelia talking to..."Gunn?" Buffy gave the pen back to the girl who she had just finished autographing for and jogged over to the other side of the court. "Cordelia, can I have a word with you, please?"

"Of course. But only if you tell me if Gunn is *really* your bodyguard, though."

"Yeah, he is. Charles Gunn, born in 1978 and raised in LA by his mother, Peggy, and older brother, Marcus," Buffy replied breathlessly. "I'm kinda running late, so can I, like, go first or something?"

"Running late for what?" Gunn asked in puzzlement. He knew her schedulewhere she should be, who she should be with, what time and why.

"I-I'm going t-to the orthodontist," Buffy stuttered, flashing Gunn a 'don't say a word' kind of look.

"Of course you can," Cordelia smiled and sat herself at the chair that stood directly in the middle. "If you need to go to the orthodontist to check up on your imaginary braces, then be my guest."

"I meant dentist," Buffy amended quickly. "Just a slip of the tongue. Happens all the time. Orthodontist, dentist, same thing..."

"If you insist," Cordelia replied. "You have to fill out one of these though." She handed her a form and a pen, "Just so we know where to contact you, your details, stuff like that."

Buffy filled it in with her neat script and handed the form back. "Here."

The judges sat behind the desk, smiling. They each held pens in their hands which were poised over their comment slips and reminded Buffy of when she once dreamt that she auditioned for a role in a commercial and got turned down for being 'too blonde'.

"So what exactly am I required to do? You know, since I missed the first few minutes."

"We ask you questions, you answer them. We ask you to yell, you yell. Okay?" Cordelia asked, scribbling a few words on the page in front of her.

"Okay."

*****

Buffy was asked questions and she answered them. She was asked to yell and she yelled. Heading up the bleachers where Gunn was sitting, Buffy grabbed her stuff and started heading towards the locker rooms.

Gunn grabbed her arm. "Wait, what's the hurry? Who're you meeting?"

"A friend," Buffy said and ran into the girls' locker rooms, leaving Gunn to stand outside by himself.

When Buffy came out again, she tossed her gym bag to him and said, "Could you please take this home and tell Giles I'll be a bit late? You'll find me on Main Street. If you don't, call me on my cell."

"Right. Got it. Go home, tell Giles, meet you on Main Street and call if I can't find you. Okay."

"Not meet. Just...I dunno. Do whatever it is that you do..." Buffy shrugged.

"Ooh, you're meeting a guy," Gunn said in a sing-song voice. "I don't need to tell you to be careful do I?"

"I've got my new lipstick-sized pepper spray, remember? No worries. So...I'm not in trouble?"

"Let's just say that I think it's about time you got somebody to hang out with who isn't me...I meant that in a good way," Gunn added with a frown.

"You're such a sweetie," Buffy gave him a peck on the cheek, "bye."

*****

Angel watched Buffy from down the hallway. **Who am I kidding? How could I just assume that a girl like Buffy wouldn't already have a boyfriend? Oh well...I guess I could settle at being just friends...in theory, I suppose.**

Buffy waved goodbye to Gunn and jogged down the hallway to meet Angel, who looked to be staring at his shoes. "Hi. Sorry about the being late thing. I was trying out for the cheerleading squad," Buffy announced happily.

"Really? Well then I think you're definitely gonna get in," Angel said. "If that helps at all."

"It does," Buffy beamed. "You wanna grab a coffee or a conversational beverage of any kind? You know, cos I'd really like to get to know you better."

"Sure. Coffee sounds good."

Part 6

"Oh my God, that's gotta hurt," Buffy said, shaking her head. "Three storeys? I thought you said it was at your house, though."

"Well, it was," Angel said. He stopped at his driveway and punched in the security code for the gate, "See? Three storeys. You wanna come inside?" The gate clicked open and held it open for her.

"I would," she beamed, stepping through.

Heading up the path, Buffy studied the propertylarge, lots of plants, high security and a very large (and very impressive) house. The mansion's exterior was made of sandstone, good with the upkeep seeing as there wasn't a single stain from the recent Californian summer rainstorms. Rose bushes lined either side of the driveway, alternating colours all the way upred, white, red, white... Two round topiaries stood either side of the front door, each pruned so prudently precise that not a single leaf nor twig was out of place.

"Nice house," Buffy commented as Angel fished around in his pockets for his house keys. Barking came from behind the door, Bertha was anxious to be let out into the yard to do his 'thang' (and sniff around for bugs and snails while he was at it).

Angel eventually found his keys in his bag and pulled them out excitedly. "Not quite as nice as yours, I'm afraid."

"And what's so appealing about a large house with much too much space? Getting lost or feeling alone?" Buffy commented dryly. "Except for when Thor is there, of course. There's nothing like a dog for company..."

"Well, unless you're talking about ugly-" Angel paused for moment. "Actually, never mind."

"Don't worry. You might find that I'm not easily offended," Buffy said with a smile, slipping off her coat and giving it to Angel to hang in the closet. "I kinda get used to it after awhile, what with all the people I'm constantly surrounded with. You know, stage crew, dancers, make-up, etc, etc..."

"Okay, well I guess you know what I was going to say then..." Angel said with a slight shake of his head. "I guess you're not the only one embarrassed today."

Buffy giggled, "Guess not. But when has that ever been a bad thing?"

Angel shrugged. "Would you like something to drink? Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?"

"No. I'm still full from the cake and my wonderfully sugary and caffeinated mocha," Buffy smiled. She gazed up the stairs and inspected the entire interior of the front foyervery striking artworks and homely atmosphere...the kind that strikes as the kind that mothers create for their children. Like a nest with florals and hardwood floors. "Where's the rest of your family?"

"I don't know. Spike's probably upstairs with his girlfriend...again. My dad's at work, and I think my mum has her facial appointment today," Angel said, leading her up the stairs. The jittery, nervous feeling had left long ago, but now had returned. His room. The posters. **Shit...oh, fuck. Damn, shit, crap...argh!!** He stopped at his door and reached for the doorknob. **Stop it, you fuckhead! Embarrass yourself some more why don't you?** He pulled his hand back again.

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked, puzzled as to what it could be that was behind that door.

"Nothing...just wondering if Spike is home... He's a fan of you, too," he said, opening the next door down the hallway. "Spike!"

"Oi! Will you stop barging in on people like that?" Spike asked, panicking about this very unfavourable situation. He was making out with Faith, on his bed, and they had somehow gotten into a VERY strategic position. He saw a flash of blonde hair flickering from behind his door. "Don't tell me you brought Darla here. You know how your mum hates 'er."

"No, not Darla," Angel said with a mischievous grin. He pushed the door wider and Buffy gawked.

"Oh my God," Spike said breathlessly.

"Oh my God," Buffy's eyes widened at the abundance of posters of *her*. How weird was that? Seeing yourself all over someone else's walls...or anybody's walls.

"Spike, Faith, Buffy," Angel introduced them casually.

"Nice to meet you," Faith said, smiling pleasantly at Buffy. "Spike's totally obsessed about you. So is Angel."

"Are you and Spike brothers?" Buffy asked Angel, "Cos you don't look very alike."

"Just stepbrothers," Angel replied, waving his hand in front of William's eyes.

"What the fuck?" Spike said under his breath. "If I'm dreaming, wake me up."

Faith punched his arm.

"Ouch," Spike said, rubbing his arm protectively. "Oh wait, I felt that." He cocked his head to the side, "But then again, maybe you CAN feel things in your dreams...ow..."

Angel sighed, "Stop making a big fool of yourself, William. But of course, how could I forget? You're always making a fool of yourself..."

"Oh shit," Spike swore. **My posters! Okay, NOW I'm embarrassed. Damn you, Peaches. Why'd you have to go and invite her over without warning! I heard the rumours, but... Well there goes my chance with her...**

"Wow...impressive poster collection..." Buffy commented, worriedly gazing at the posters pinned up all over the walls of the room.

Spike snorted, "You should see HIS room.

"Spike!" Angel scowled, punching him in the other arm.

"Hey! What was that for? Now they both hurt..."

"Wuss."

"Talk about a dysfunctional family..."

"Okay, who wants something to drink? Water? Coffee? Orange juice? A margarita?" Angel asked, sheepishly avoiding having to show her his own room. Spike was right; he had a LOT more of that kind of stuff than his stepbrother. "We'll be going now," Angel said before his stepbrother could embarrass him even more. He held the door open and pleaded with Buffy for her to help him out.

"I guess I'll see you around then," Buffy said quickly, before swiftly stepping through the door and closing it behind her.

Angel shook his head. "Don't ask."

"Come on...please? I want to see," Buffy pleaded with him. "I promise I won't laugh or say 'oh my God' or do anything mean."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Oh come on. It can't be THAT bad..."

"Yes it is."

"Please?"

"No, no, no...NO WAY. Uh-uh," Angel shook his head adamantly. "Never."

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Buffy teased light-heartedly. She had learnt early on in her life that there were certain people you could and couldn't trustshe felt that she was pretty damned close to finding people she could, and it was only her first day. Not that this had anything to do with the whole 'trust' issue...

Angel gaped at her...then he burst out laughing. "This is ridiculous."

"Please? You're making me beg and that is NEVER good."

"Oi! What the fuck is going on out here?" Spike interrupted, poking his head (which was attached to a half-annoyed, half-amused face) through the door.

"Nothing."

"What do you mean it's 'nothing'? She's showing you 'ers; go ahead," Spike scolded him, even though he didn't have a single clue what the heck they had been arguing about. **Who do they think they are? A married couple? Hah, and they've only known each other for a day...like Dharma and Greg. Ahem...not that I watch that show...and also not that I don't want Buffy for myself.**

"I don't know which part of the conversation you heard, but I think you're getting a very wrong impression," Angel said, noticing the smirk on his stepbrother's face.

Spike surrendered, "Okay, okay. I get the point now...I'm going..." He ducked back in his room, not before giving Buffy a quick wink, out of Angel's line of sight.

Buffy shook her head. **Strange guy...but at least he has a good sense of humour.** Turning back to Angel, she again said, "Please?"

"Maybe...but not today," Angel answered. "I've got to clean it up, take down my collection of posters...stuff like that."

"Posters of me?"

Angel's expression turned into one of awkwardness, "Umm...sort of."

"Worse than Spike?"

"Uh...you could say that. You know...if it's a bad thing..."

"It isn't a bad thing," Buffy said cheerfully. "As long as you aren't one of those freaky stalker-types, it's pretty much a good thing. And you have to let me see one day, so...ha! Promise me, and I'll promise you." She held out her pinkie finger.

Angel looked at her hesitantly. **What the fuck? I'm dreaming...I've got to be dreaming. What do I do? Embarrass myself and let her find out that I'm obsessed with her and lose her friendship or...let her find out that I'm obsessed with her and get to see hers? This is REALLY stupid. Ooh, but I DO get to go inside Buffy Summers' BEDROOM...what the Hell do I do?** Angel latched his own pinkie finger with hers, "Promise. Even though this is one of the stupidest things I've ever heard of..."

"Good."

"How many?" Buffy asked cautiously.

"Oh...about 50..." Angel shrugged.

"You said something about a margarita?"

*****

That night, Buffy went to bed thanking anyone who was listening for giving her the chance to have a normal life, and for being able to meet people who weren't totally freaked out by her celebrity status and who she could already imagine being good friends with. Willow, Xander, Oz and Angel... **And oh my GOD. Angel is hot...very much so. He has a girlfriend though. An evil one, sure, but still...a girlfriend is a girlfriend. And isn't it ironic that Cordelia is named after the only one of King Lear's three daughters who *wasn't* evil? Oh well, at least this town has a lot of character... Yeah, keep thinking thoughts like that Buffy, you know you're only trying to keep your mind off Angel and his leather pants... Stop that! Bad Buffy! FRIENDS, just FRIENDS... Emotional attachment equals extreme badness. Especially emotional attachment in the romantic sense. FRIENDS, Buffy... It won't be too hard. Just for the next...year or so. I think too much.**

Part 7

Buffy sipped her coffee, carefully blowing on it to cool it down. She glanced over at Giles, who hadn't said a word to her since dinner the night before when he had asked her to pass the salt.

"Giles? What's with the cold shoulder?" Buffy asked, setting down her still-steaming mug of coffee on the glaringly white tablecloth on the much too long banquet table.

"Pardon? Oh...don't worry about it. It's nothing," Giles dismissed, turning his attention to his newspaper once more.

"It's something. You've got something-face," Buffy stated, nodding her head pointedly.

Giles sighed. "It's nothing, Buffy. Please, continue eating breakfast. You'll be late for school."

"Not until you tell me what's bothering you."

"Okay, okay. No more pestering. I was just concerned about you and your new friend." Giles paused, "Friends."

"I'm not supposed to have friends? Why?"

"Well, frankly enough, it's a tad worrying. You can't afford to have any romantic ties whatsoever. It would, quite possibly, only end badly," Giles said without making eye contact with her.

"You don't have to worry about me. I doubt that anything is going to happen anyway," Buffy said, half-truthfully. **Uh-huh...keep telling yourself that Buffy.**

*****

Buffy stepped out of the limo with a smile plastered across her face. She could already hear the dramatic 'da-da-DUM' sounding itself in her head. She accepted her stuff from Gunnher books, bag, etcand closed the door behind her.

She waved as the car started up again and left for parts unknown. **Knowing Gunn, probably for a spin around the block and then...well...parts unknown...I suppose. I bet he uses that thing to pick up chicks all the time...**

Buffy scanned the crowd...no one she recognised except for Cordelia. Not exactly a sight she currently wanted to recognise.

Clutching her things to her chest, she started toward the front doors. She found herself swamped with peopleguys offering to carry her books, girls telling her that they were her 'absolute biggest fan in the world'all gushing and plain wanting to be close to her...as if they thought she was a figment of their imagination yesterday.

"Buffy! Can you please sign this for me?" A voice said from beside her. An unpopular-seeming girl stood expectantly with a notebook and pen in hand, her short, dirty-blonde hair hung limply around her round face, hope shining in her extraordinarily blue eyes.

Buffy frowned. A few years ago she wouldn't have even given the time of day to a girl such as the one standing beside her. She wasn't that person anymore, though, never again. **Ooh...déjà vu. I swear, I've seen this girl before. And it wasn't from class...** "Sure," Buffy smiled. "What's your name?"

"Marcy," the girl replied, timidly casting her eyes downward.

"Here you go, Marcy," Buffy said, handing back the notebook. "Hey, aren't you in my Advanced Chemistry class? With Doctor Gregory?"

"Yeah. I am. I'm in your homeroom as well," Marcy replied. **How does she remember me? Dr. Gregory hardly even remembers me.** "How did-"

"I have good memory," Buffy beamed before leaving the awestruck girl standing there in favour of checking out the noticeboards for the cheerleading recruit lists.

Marcy Ross looked down at what was written in her notebook. "Dear Marcy, As Gustave said in Ever After, 'You look down to no one'. I always wanted blue eyes. Best wishes, Buffy." Marcy closed the notebook and slipped it back into her backpack. She bit her lip and smiled.

*****

After only a few minutes of them following her around, Buffy was getting irritated with the attention and had persuaded her groupie-guys that she didn't need the help. After all, she'd put all the stuff into her locker, she didn't need the help anymore. And if she really needed it originally, she would've asked Gunn to help. **But no...they just had to- Ooh...noticeboard.**

Buffy moved her finger down the list. "Yes! I got in..." she whispered under her breath.

"Hey, Buffy," a familiar voice said abruptly from behind her, startling Buffy so much that she jumped. Buffy turned around and leant on the noticeboard, clutching her hand to her chest.

"Willow! Don't ever do that again! I get frightened too easily. Scared, no. Frightened, yes," Buffy nodded her head emphatically.

"Aren't they the same?"

"No."

"Well, then, I didn't mean to frighten you," Willow said, frowning worriedly. "I mean, you know, c-come h-here and-"

"Don't worry about it, Willow. I'm just jumpy...I guess," Buffy said. "And hey, I got on the cheerleading squad," she said proudly.

"I didn't think you *wouldn't* make it. I mean, as far as talent goes around here, you probably wouldn't have needed to even audition."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Uh...I'm not entirely sure...but it was meant to be," Willow said cheerfully. "Xander's around here somewhere, but I can't find him. He's got this huge crush on you and I know I wasn't supposed to tell you that so it'd be good if you either forgot or didn't mention it to him or, or, or...something. I'm babbling aren't I? Not good. No more babbling."

Buffy giggled, "You're funny like that. And I kind of figured that whole Xander-crush thing out yesterday when he was looking at me weird the whole time I was talking to him. It was kinda...awkward."

"Elaborate...?"

"He was kinda...all twitchy and nervous. And his eye did this really weird thing...like a wink spasm. It was actually kinda interesting...you know, in a creepy kind of way."

"Oh, that's just classic Xander symptoms of nervousnessspecifically around girls," Willow said. She leaned over to whisper in Buffy's ear, "Especially girls he has crushes on," Willow teased.

"Are you trying to set me up with Xander?" Buffy asked, alarmed at the possibility. She was feeling the growing attraction towards Angel and was hoping that maybe he'd ask her outlike, if he broke up with his supposedly evil, bitchy, annoying girlfriend. **Unless he was just joking... Hello? Happy thoughts? Where are you all gone?**

"No! Of course not! I mean, unless you want me to. Which I kinda assumed you wouldn't need me to do, since, you know, you're popular with everyone except the hippies, the Goths and those creepy people who wear 'Tool' t-shirts all the time," Willow said half-jokingly. **Boy, I bet some of them even think they're witches or something. Creepy, delusional people...I think. Actually, it'd be cool to have, like, magical powers. Is magic spelt with a 'k'? Okay, magickal powers then.**

"I won't ask. I don't think I've met any of those types of people yet," Buffy said with a smile.

"I still can't believe you're really coming to this school, being my friend and all," Willow exclaimed excitedly. "I mean, it's one thing to read about you in a magazine, but it's a totally different thing to meet you and all...I *still* think I'm dreaming."

Buffy spotted Oz and Xander approaching them and waved. "Hey."

"Oh my God, I totally forgot!" Willow said, smacking herself in the forehead. "I'm so sorry Oz. You were supposed to give me a ride to school but my mom drove me to school because she wanted to discuss the occult books available in the library for this article-thingumabob she was writing. Or something. I should've called." Willow gave Oz a quick kiss.

"It's okay. I kinda...slept in anyway," Oz said nonchalantly. "Forgiven."

"Really? Good. That's very good," Willow babbled, frantically nodding her head.

"Did you have coffee, Willow?" Xander asked suspiciously. "You know how coffee gets you like this. Not nice."

Buffy laughed, "It's either pre-pop quiz jitters or overdose."

"Overdose?" Xander asked in puzzlement.

"Overdose of caffeine," Buffy said. "You thought I meant...? No way."

"Hold on a sec. You don't...do you?" Xander said, eyes darting from left to right, keeping his focus on Buffy's every movement and gesture.

"Of course not! I'm not one of those...rocker types...with the weed and the groupies and stuff. Just lots of stalkers and screamers."

"Must be tough," Oz stated.

"Oz is in a band," Willow said proudly. "And you're right. I had some coffee this morning...just a little teeny-tiny bit, I swear."

"Let me guess...you play...bass?" Buffy asked.

"How'd you guess?" Oz asked.

"She's psychic," Xander joked, wriggling his fingers at Oz.

Buffy shrugged, "Not psychic. Just experienced."

"Are you playing tonight?" Willow asked, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend.

"Yeah, eight o'clock." Oz turned his attention to Buffy, "I'd ask you to come, but it could get a bit rowdy. Tight space, lots of young people."

"You're right, I can't. I have to stay at home tonight so that my voice trainer can come all the way from LA to do my weekly," Buffy sighed.

"You have a voice trainer? I thought you were, you know, naturally talented," Xander said nervously. His eye twitched and his hands couldn't seem to keep stillthe workings of Xander-nervousness.

"My voice trainer helps me keep it in shape. It's like having a naturally buff bod, but still going to the gym every one in a while," Buffy said. Her voice training sessions were boring, sure, but it was 'necessary for her career', as Giles so kindly put it.

"A naturally buff bod? They exist?"

"You get the idea."

*****

Angel rushed to grab all his things, gym clothes, backpack and...binder. **Oh shit, I forgot to take those pictures outta my binder. Fuck! Oh well, it'll have to do... Shit...**

*****

"...and so x equals to...one and a third," Buffy's maths teacher explained on the board, writing down the working messily in hard-to-read chalk. Buffy had to squint to read the writingit was too small and too faint.

To her left sat Willow, biting her lip in concentration in the next problem. To her right was Angel, who was struggling to read the writing on the board as well, even with his glasses on. **He looks so...academic with those glasses on... Cute in an educated kind of way, I suppose.**

"Do questions five to seventeen on page thirty-two for homework. I'll be checking it tomorrow," the teacher warned. It was only their first class and Buffy already hated her. **Too much homework...good teacher though.**

"Hey, Buffy, did you get any of what she just taught?" Angel asked, approaching her casually.

"I took notes. I *think* I got what she was saying."

"Good, cos I didn't. My earsand glassesfail me. It's really quite tragic."

"You could come over to my place to study, but I have plans," Buffy replied regretfully. **Damn voice trainer...** "You could pop over after dinner and I could go over the notes with you, though."

"Is eight o'clock okay?" Angel asked. He had a date with Darla for tonight, but at least he had a reason to stand her up. A good reason, too.

"Yeah. Just tell the guys at the gate that I'm expecting you. The code word is 'Dawn'," Buffy shrugged. "Security reasons. It's my sister's name."

"You have a sister?"

"Yeah. She spent the summer with my aunt in Illinois during the tour. She doesn't travel with me or any of that stuff. I'm never asked about my family...for some odd reason. I dunno. She just never comes up in interviews, I guess. She's annoying and bratty, I can tell you that much. But, yeah, I have a sister."

"Come on Buffy, we'll be late to class," Willow interrupted.

"Okay, study date, my house, at eight," Buffy said, "I'll see you there."

"Okay," Angel replied. **Plans? She has plans? I wonder who with...**

"By the way I like your folder."

Part 8

Buffy cast a disgusted glance at the plate sitting in front of her-not in the least bit tantalising, and looking worse than a her mother's meatloaf every second. And that was saying a lot... What was *supposed* to be a cafeteria lunch looked pretty much like dog food with gravy...and brown, unidentified chunky blobs that slipped off the fork like greasy noodles. The odour was...well, to put it simply, it was rather unpleasant.

Buffy put down her fork and tried not to look at the brown mush that the lunch lady seemed to consider edible and put a hand over her mouth. "Okay, eww..."

"I don't think 'eww' really sums it up. It needs more syllables; more gusto. Like...nyah-uh," Xander said, shaking his hands for dramatic effect. "Either way, it's still pretty damned gross."

"Not to go all 'Gone With the Wind' on you all, but I'll never be hungry again. Not after seeing this...what IS this?"

"Fiddle-dee-dee," Xander quipped. "I believe they're calling it Beef Mulligan today," Xander paused, "whatever a mulligan is."

"A mulligan stew is just one of those ones where they chuck in all the ingredients they can find and cross their fingers," Willow said matter-of-factly, "like Caesar Salad."

"I like Caesar Salad," Oz added. "Especially the anchovies. Nice and salty."

"Willow? How did you know that?" Xander asked suspiciously. "Looked it up cos you were just curious?"

Willow smiled sheepishly and sank into a slouch in her chair. "Yep."

"That isn't necessarily a bad thing," Oz said, comfortingly putting his arm around her and kissing her striking, red hair, "at least we now know what a mulligan is."

"We still don't know what's in it though," Buffy added, cringing at her next thought, "but I'm not too sure I want to know."

They all made a face, thinking of all the horrible things that could've been in their food when they had had cafeteria lunches all through their time at school, and thanking their lucky stars that they all now brought their own lunch-made by themselves or otherwise. No matter how 'uncool' it was to bring lunch, it was known that the food at the cafeteria was probably poisoned by the slightly insane lunch lady. Her very much squished-in face was enough to draw suspicion; the permanent crabby scowl attached just became too monotonous to scare them-now she was adding the evil smile on top of the crabby scowl. Very effective.

Buffy pulled her lunchbox out of her bag-environmentally friendly, no paper wastage, very cute-which she had bought when she had gone to Japan the year before. It had a cartoon hamster on it wearing a kimono and a mop of black hair in a style similar to a geisha's.

"Oh would you look at that," Xander mocked light-heartedly, holding the little lunchbox up as if he were standing up in class in first grade doing his Show-and-Tell item, "it's Buffy's teeny-tiny cutesy-wootsy lunchbox." He stuck his bottom lip and tilted his head as if he were a little girl.

"Haha, Mary Kate. Why don't you run along, find Ashley and go play marbles on the train tracks? It'll be fun," Buffy said in a sing-song voice. "Then we can rejoice."

"I'm the Mary!" Xander said in voice that sounded as if he was trying to imitate that of an old woman. Willow and Oz just looked on with puzzled expressions planted firmed on their faces.

"No, *I'm* the Mary," Buffy shot back playfully.

"No. You're the Rhoda," Xander said with a grin.

"Mary and Rhoda? What'd you do? Watch 'Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion'?" Willow asked.

"Let me just point out that that was the stupidest movie I've ever seen," Xander paused. "I just always wanted to do the whole 'Mary and Rhoda' bicker with someone..." Xander shrugged sheepishly. "That was fun. Can we do it again?"

"How'd you get from Mary Kate and Ashley to Mary and Rhoda?" Oz asked, scrunching up his brow in thought.

"Name association."

"Oh...gotcha."

"Anyway, getting back to the point, that is one teeny-tiny lunchbox. You need to eat more. It can't be healthier than my *lovely* Twinkie lunch," Xander said, emptying his brown paper bag onto the table. Out came three packs of Twinkies, all slightly squished. "My mum almost sat on them."

"Try the Beef Mulligan. I hear it's good," Oz quipped, pushing the tray towards Xander.

Xander backed away as far as he could, taking his Twinkies with him. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm good. With my Twinkies. Junk food of choice... Oh my God, get that thing away from me!" Xander feigned fear of the Beef Mulligan, holding a hand against his forehead melodramatically, and unceremoniously shoving a Twinkie into his mouth at the same time.

"Hey, my lunch is perfectly healthy. I'll have you know that I have more food in my bag and a nice big bottle of Evian. So there, Twinkie Boy. I'm not allowed to have junk food and even if I were, I like Oreos cos they aren't full of fattening cream."

"Isn't the white stuff in Oreos cream?"

"It's icing, Xander."

"Oh... Well...the biscuit part gets stuck on your teeth and makes them look all black and yucky. I still have trauma from a *particular* experience," Xander narrowed his eyes at Willow.

"What? Oh! The Oreo Incident? I remember now. That was so funny," Willow said calmly, before being unable to hold it any longer and bursting out laughing. "Oh my God, that was...it was just classic."

Xander glared at his red headed friend, "Laugh now. I'll get you back for that one of these days..."

"Yeah, and that day shall come. On the day that you decide you hate Twinkies."

"Never! I'll never hate Twinkies! How can anyone hate Twinkies..." Xander's question fizzled out as he realised what Willow had just said. "Hey!"

"I burned the photo, okay? Into the blistering hot fireplace during the blistering hot Hanukkah of '98," Willow said, smiling at the memory. "Remember? It was the year that you tripped over your own feet while doing the Snoopy Dance."

"Umm...no need to embarrass me more, Will," Xander said, stuffing another fattening yellow bar of cakey Twinkie goodness into his mouth.

"Sorry. It was just so funny...alright, I won't say anything."

"What's the Snoopy Dance?"

"Don't tell her, Will."

"Tell me!"

"Just tell her."

"Can I tell her?"

"No! Please, God, no! I still need revenge on so many things that I've lost count. Especially for the time I fell asleep during Bio and you made sleepy-me volunteer to be the make-believe ant."

"The antennae looked so cute!"

"Tell me!"

"Oh God..." "You eat sushi for lunch?"

*****

Buffy slumped into the chair (or, rather, her stool) and almost collapsed with the pain in her throat and her gut. All the laughing had done bad things to her. **Oh shit...and I have voice training this afternoon! Fuck! Bury me right now before Sammi does... Although, all those stories were so funny...definitely worth it.** Buffy took out her books and pencil case and folded her hands on the table, awaiting the arrival of the rest of the class as well as Dr Gregory. **Argh. Mini-quizzy-thingo...why'd you have to be on today?**

"Hey, Buffy. Willow," Angel greeted them each with a nod, setting down his folder and opening it to hide the pictures on the front and back covers. "Don't laugh," he warned Buffy. "I was in a rush this morning," he said, pursing his lips.

"Really? Maybe we should carpool you then," Buffy said, trying not to smile at the oddly attractive notion. Maybe she could even somehow force Gunn to ride up front with the driver...

"I sometimes drive, sometimes I walk," Angel replied flatly, considering the idea of the interesting position of himself and Buffy *alone* in a limo and remembering that she had that good-looking boyfriend of hers. He wasn't really into the cheating types-that being the basis of his dislike for Darla.

"I can tell you're very enthusiastic about that arrangement," Buffy said sarcastically, keeping eye contact with his constantly darting eyes.

"I am," Angel gulped as her piercing green eyes kept contact with his own. His gaze travelled across her very scarcely made-up face, down the seemingly endless expanse of creamy, silky skin of her neck and chest, and finally down at his twitching feet.

"Well at least consider my offer," Buffy said.

"Okay, I will," Angel said, giving up the argument. No need to push it towards the 'why not' end of the scale. "I see you got onto the cheerleading squad. Then you can cheer me and the boys on when we play next, next week. Or maybe it was next, next, NEXT week. I'm not too sure."

"Speaking of, how'd the tryouts go yesterday?" Buffy asked.

"Don't ask," Angel shook his head, with a slight smile.

"That speaks volumes."

"Good afternoon class. I'm sorry for my lateness, I was actually held up by next door's science class. The substitute was having trouble with the, uh, science," Dr Gregory said as he organised his things while having to fix his glasses after every other word. His whole demeanour was frazzled and disorganised.

The class laughed, knowing whom he had been referring to. Natalie French, an elderly substitute teacher who had been wandering the halls not knowing her way. She had to ask about half a dozen people for directions before she found the room she was supposed to be in. And on top of it all, she wasn't a very good science teacher. Dr Gregory had considered inviting the class to join his, but remembered that his class was supposed to be having their test. Not exactly the best working environment, not to mention that the other class were freshmen and the entire lack of bench space. The Advanced Chem class was already bursting, even with the renovation of the labs to allow for larger classes.

"My memory might be failing me, but I do believe that we have a quiz scheduled for today, though. I hope you've all studied," Dr Gregory teased them. "This is just to check that you understood the revision that I gave you yesterday, so the marks won't go to your reports or anything like that, so don't panic. It'll also help me to see standard of your understanding for this subject for those who were in Mr. McNamara's class last year."

Half the class breathed out a sigh of relief-those who hadn't studied, and those who had been in worry-hyper-mode. Either way, it was a relief to everyone.

"You'll have 20 mins and then I'll collect your papers," Dr Gregory announced as he put a test paper on everyone's desks. "Pen-only please."

Buffy spotted Marcy Ross waving from her desk near the front of the room. Buffy smiled back and turned to look at the test that had been placed in front of her. **Wow. I didn't even need to study. Phew...**

"Principal Snyder tells me you're kind of a genius," Dr Gregory said to Buffy, before placing a test paper in front of Angel. "You may begin."

**Huh? I'm not THAT smart...the last time I checked.**

19 minutes and twenty questions later, Buffy sat quietly in her seat, looking out the window-partially in boredom, partially in curiosity. In the time it had taken for them to do the test, it had somehow started to rain and a rainbow had formed. It had been so long since she'd seen a rainbow. The travelling and working and performing and the whole hectic shebang had prevented her from really doing anything else.

"Okay, pens down."

The clatter of pens hitting the desk and the loud sighs of those stretching their arms after the relatively hard 'quiz'. Fingers cracked and many had started chatting to those near them. The boom of thunder came from outside, causing many to jump at the abrupt noise.

Everyone handed their papers in as Dr Gregory made his way around the classroom.

"That was hard," Willow finally said.

"I second that," Angel agreed.

"It wasn't THAT hard..." Buffy mumbled truthfully.

"Okay then, you're just abnormally smart," Willow commented.

"When did it start to rain?" Angel asked, peering out the window.

"Didn't notice," Willow and Buffy said in unison.

"Well at least we won't have to have practise this afternoon..." Angel said cheerfully.

"How's your arm now?" Willow asked, inadvertently leaving Buffy out of the loop.

"It's good. My physio says I can play as soon as next week."

"That's good! I told you it'd be okay for the new season," Willow beamed.

"What happened to your arm?" Buffy finally asked. She had checked out both his arms and found neither hide nor hair of what they could be talking about. No scars, bandages, or anything like that.

"Fracture. In my left arm," Angel turned his arm in an awkward position for her to see the 2-and-a-half inch scar that ran along his forearm.

 "Ouch. Was that from the falling off the house?"

Angel chuckled. "No. That's a completely different thing altogether."

The bell rung, signalling the end of school. It had started to rain again. And being California, it was pretty much a given that nobody had brought umbrellas. Which kinda left a whole lot of people in a rut... Why did it have to rain?

"Ugh. I have cheerleading practise..." Buffy mumbled, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

"At least you won't have to walk home..." Willow said disdainfully. "Oh, wait, Oz can drive me," Willow said excitedly. "I guess it won't be so bad after all. I have to go...find Oz. Bye!" With that, she hurried out of the classroom with a spring in her step.

"Need a ride home?"

Angel shook his head. "It's okay. I'll wait it out."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay... See you later then." Buffy spun on her heel and followed Willow's lead. **What's that guy's problem? Who does he think he is? A guy... I mean, I can take a hint, but that was just...cold. Guys... They're always like that. Hot one minute (okay, metaphorically, cos Angel's always hot...BUFFY!), cold the next. Who do they think they are? A couple of guys...**

Go to Part 9