Part 9

Buffy shivered slightly as she shoved her things into the locker. The weather had gotten chilly since it had started to rain. She pulled out a jumper from her bag and slipped it on, carefully making sure not to mess up the high ponytail she'd only just finished putting up. **Shit. I'll probably have to take this off later... Oh well, I'll get Gunn to mind it for me. He'll just be sitting in the bleachers all on his lonesome anyway. He really, really needs a life.**

Buffy smiled to herself as she followed the other girls out to the gymnasium where the cheerleading squad were supposed to gather whenever the weather turned nasty. Not that that happened very often, of course. She waved discreetly to Gunn, who had shown up promptly and had already taken a front-row seat in the bleachers. A few other spectators were seated all over the bleachers, but not much more than a dozen.

Buffy spotted Cordelia out of the corner of her eye. The brunette was carrying a large cardboard box in her arms, with another girl following with a similar box in her own arms. On each box, the letter 'U' was written in thick, black permanent marker.

**Uh-huh. Just as 'A' is for 'apple', 'U' is for 'uniforms'...fun.**

Excited cheerleaders gathered around Cordelia whispering among themselves. Buffy felt herself being yanked by the arm through the crowd by persons unknown; someone who had very deadly fingernails. Buffy was about to scream for Gunn's help, but was surprised to find that it had been Cordelia, dragging her to the front.

Buffy felt like the first-place-winning pumpkin pie at a county fair, the way those girls were staring at her with wide eyes. Obviously some of them had only heard the rumours and not seen the real-deal yet and were shaken up by, well, her presence.

"Could everyone please gather around?" Cordelia called out to those spread around the gym, tying their shoes, drinking sports drinks or whatnot. She clapped her hands loudly to draw their attention (and almost deafening Buffy with the snappish loudness-an amazing feat, since Buffy had been exposed to high decibels of screaming many times before). **Great, just what I need. I should've listened to Giles... Hey! Why the hell did I just think that? I never listen to Giles. AT least, not as a rule.**

"For those who didn't show up to help out at the tryouts yesterday," Cordelia said pointedly, "Buffy tried out and blew us all away with her performance. And I believe that the people who were in charge of the music and choreography are a bit on the embarrassed side," Cordelia joked, rousing laughter from those who understood. "So, the point is, we have the best of the best, so we're gonna kick ass this year!"

The team cheered as Buffy smiled awkwardly. **Oh yay...now I feel like an instrument of their supremacy. Great. Just what I wanted out of this experience...**

Cordelia sifted around one of the cardboard boxes, successfully pulling out a clipboard. On the clipboard was a list of names on a grid. "Okay, calm down everyone. We have to have roll call before we can hand out our brand, spanking, new uniforms."

Chatter rose from the girls again.

"Oh, and by the way, they'll cost you. And did I mention that we only have 3 sizes? Extra small, small and medium."

*****

Angel stared forlornly at the downpour. It was too far to walk, definitely too long to wait out, and too much of a hassle to call someone. Not to mention embarrassing. Plus, his mobile didn't have any reception. Angel kept busy by wandering the not-so-empty halls of the school, occasionally passing people who were also stranded in the sudden rainstorm, wasting their time away.

Angel rounded the corner (something he had wished to take back), passing two girls having a heated discussion on the sale at Nordstrom's. His body collided with that of Darla's. She seemed to have been looking someone-probably him.

"Darla," he stated flatly. "Looking for me, I suppose?"

"I've been looking for you all day! I asked every single person on the team if they'd seen you and then when I went where they said, you weren't there," Darla said, bouncing and gesturing as she spoke. She was typical Californian airhead. The only thing separating her from the 'in' crowd at SHS was the size of Daddy's wallet; or in her case, Mommy's.

Darla's father had left her mother for an 18-year-old stripper from a bar in the bad side of town called 'The Cheetah'. Darla had been in there once when she had fallen into a drunken stupor after a particularly wild party. As expected, the bar's patrons were old businessmen, some cheating on their wives, some were just horny. What gave Darla's stomach the heave-ho, was the lovely faux cheetah fur used on all the chairs, sofas and even parts of the walls.

Darla's mother hadn't been sober in eight years. But then again, she was hardly ever sober before her bastard of a husband had left either.

"I was on detention," Angel bluffed.

"Then why do I get the impression that you're avoiding me?" Darla asked suspiciously. She narrowed her eyes at him, inspecting his every movement and reaction.

"Now why would you think that?"

"I know what your mother and her little country club friends think of me," she spat out. She stepped closer and made eye contact with him. She had always thought that she had been a good judge of character. Of course, Darla's beliefs were dashed when her "beloved" father had left her on her own with her mother. From that day on, she had learnt quickly not to trust anyone.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Angel said, resting his hands on both her slim shoulders, partly to keep her a safe distance from himself, and partly to restrain her from inflicting any pain on him whatsoever. He had heard that the girl had a hand and a mouth like a crack whip. Not exactly very good imagery, but it had taught him to be careful of the Little Girl Who Cried 'Rapist'. A nickname given to her by Larry, after an...incident. The case had been dismissed because they had no evidence at all. No witnesses, no nothing.

"Okay, the why do I get the feeling that you're lying to me?" Darla asked, indignantly planting her hands on her slim hips.

"I'm not, okay? What made you even think that?" Angel asked innocently, reining in the sarcasm that was threatening to escape.

"Make it up to me, then. Bronze. Date. 8 o'clock sharp," Darla said, giving him a peck on the cheek and strode off, leaving Angel no room for objection.

**Why do I always get myself into shit like this? Stupid rain-it's all your fault. Great, now Darla's literally driving me insane.**

He sighed. What was he going to do now? Study date with Buffy or a date with the ever-wretched Darla...what a stumper. The only problem being that stupid bet. He would prove them wrong, that was for sure. Maybe he could be super nice, so it'd seem as if he was dumping her for the sake of it, when the time came around for the dumping to occur. The victory would be...bliss. **Nah. She'd probably have me shot.**

Angel quickly stole a glance through a nearby classroom's window; it was still raining rather heavily outside. Suddenly, he heard a quiet burst of music playing-it was oh, so soft-coming from a distance. Angel estimated that the noise was coming from the school gymnasium. What the hell was it? There were sounds of sneakers squeaking as they ran along the basketball court, but not really in a hurried way. So, it wasn't who he thought it could've been...then who was it?

**Of course! Cheerleading practice! How could I forget? I missed the tryouts yesterday, might as well go today...** Angel hurried towards the sound of the music. It wasn't long until he got inside and found the same black guy that he had seen Buffy kiss the day before, watching the girls with a cheeky smile plastered on his face. He was seated at the very top pf the bleachers and looked as if he were checking the girls out; either that or he was checking out Buffy. In a brand new, short-skirted, tight-shirted SHS cheerleading uniform. Angel snapped out of it and raised his hand to his chin, absently checking for traces of drool. He almost tripped over his own feet as he walked. Unfortunately for him, that wasn't as bad as it was going to be...

"Angel! How nice of you to drop by!" Cordelia exclaimed, waving him over. What was he going to do? He couldn't very well run away. **Of all the luck. Darla AND Cordelia in the space of only two minutes.**

Angel smiled sheepishly and shrugged, trying to keep a calm composure. "Wouldn't miss it." He shoved his hands in his pockets. It just got a heck of a lot colder in there. Not to mention the disturbing number of girls who seemed as if they were just about ready to lick their lips. The only person who he hadn't caught the attention of was Buffy. **Ha. How am I ever going to have a chance with her if she doesn't even notice me? Not dismissing the fact that she already has an older, reliable-looking boyfriend. Am I reliable-looking?**

"Well it's always a pleasure when *you* drop by," Cordelia flirted shamelessly. Three years and counting, and she still hadn't gotten the picture. Angel was beginning to suspect that maybe the girl didn't have a brain at all, let alone half.

"No need to flatter me. How's it going ladies?" Angel asked the rest of the team, eagerly turning his attention away from Cordelia. She shrugged at the brush-off. Denial could sometimes be the best medicine-something she didn't really have much experience with actually.

A chorus of positive answers fluttered from left to right (as did the batting of eyelashes).

"Really? Well I won't interrupt any further. Please, continue." Angel settled on a place in the very front row-a good vantage point to observe Buffy from-and quickly found that shaking Cordelia off his leg was much, much harder than with Darla. Not that he was a novice at that either.

"So...do you have plans tonight?" Cordelia asked, flashing him the brightest smile she could possibly flash. She played with the hem of her skirt, purposely exposing more and more flesh. Angel felt like puking. Enough with the come-ons. And the fake tan.

"Yeah, I actually have two things going on. I don't know which one I'll end up going to," Angel answered truthfully.

"Sounds...busy. But remember, if you can't decide, I'll be at the Bronze." Cordelia finally left him alone, turning with a flick of her hair and (in Angel's opinion) a not-so-seductive sway in her hips. They had grown up together; all through elementary school and junior high, Cordelia had been...that snobby girl that you always had to talk your friend out of getting involved with. The thought of the two of them, dating, was enough to make Angel's stomach turn upside down and tie itself into a fancy knot.

"Buffy's it is then..."

*****

Buffy had been watching him from across the room, inspecting his flickering gaze when she thought he wasn't looking and making sure not to make eye contact with him.

If she did, she didn't think she'd be able to stop.

Buffy bent over to fix her shoelaces; they had become undone while they were practising the basic cheers. As she tied the offending laces, she peeked-as inconspicuously as she could-under her arm.

Her gaze connected with his.

The first word that came to her head? Magic.

There was something about his eyes, even from such a distance that she felt attracted to. Like a magnetic field she couldn't escape however much she tried to.

"Buffy?" Cordelia's annoyed voice interrupted her temporary freeze-frame. "Are you ready yet?"

Buffy finished tying her shoes and nodded. She'd tried and tried but she could not find a single endearing quality in the bitch at all. **Meow...** She didn't seem to respect or even *like* anyone except herself. And Angel, but he obviously wasn't interested. **He has a girlfriend anyway. I'm sure they're just having a rough spot... Don't kid yourself anymore, Buffy, he's...being an unreadable...guy...person.**

Buffy frowned and resumed her position. **What am I gonna do? Tie myself up to stop myself from coming onto to him? Maybe I should cancel...**

"5, 6, 7, 8," Cordelia counted audibly as the first bars of the song played. Some upbeat poppy music blared from the speakers once again; it was one of those songs that you liked the first two or three times you hear it and then find it irritating afterwards. They'd played it at least five or six times already and Buffy was just about ready to kick whoever it was that picked it.

Buffy tuned out the noise and moved without thinking, focusing on other-more important-things...well, a little bit more important (at the moment). **You idiot! You know he likes you. You're just afraid. Scaredy cat, scaredy cat! ...Great, now I have an inner voice?**

Not realising that it was already the end of the routine, Buffy continued, dancing obliviously. She improvised, with...what the hell? Buffy stopped.

"Oh my God! That looked so good!" One of the younger girls burst out.

Loud chatter erupted among the girls, only to be silenced once again by one Miss Bitch-of-a-Girl Chase. She clapped her hands, capturing the attention of the squad. They all stopped; not a single peep escaped a single one of the usually-loud girls' mouths. It was certainly a sight to behold.

"Fine, it looked good. But, unfortunately, the routine has to be a certain length. Sorry," Cordelia hid her satisfied smile. No one would dare defy her, she was sure of it. The power was...delectable. She'd tried to like Buffy, be nice to her and all, but...well... They just didn't click too well. However, Cordelia was determined to become friends with Buffy. This could be her only chance at international superstardom! **What am I talking about? I don't need help from HER. I can make it there all by myself!**

"Can we have a show of hands please?" A small voice asked from the back of the pack. "All in favour of leaving it the way it is?"

Cordelia found that she was the only one with her hand up. Buffy watched with a satisfied smile.

"All in favour of changing it?" Buffy asked.

They all raised their hands, including the whole group of Cordettes that had made it on the squad. Loyalty becoming an issue, Buffy could sense it. **Not that there's much loyalty there anyway. And I speak from experience.**

"Majority rules. It's getting a bit late, and there's a break in the storm," Buffy pointed out the sunshine pouring through the windows, "so I guess we'll work on it at the next practice."

They all cheered, and hurried to gather their stuff so that they could go home. Who knew how long the good weather would last for? It could be anywhere between 5 minutes to being the end of the storm altogether.

Buffy quickly made up her mind. Jogging towards Angel, she noticed he looked as if he was going to leave. Alone. "Wait! Angel!"

"What is it?"

"Um...about tonight..." Buffy started, but was interrupted abruptly by Gunn's coughing.

"Um...sorry, but I have...new, unexpected plans." Buffy bit her lip, "You understand, right?"

"Yeah, sure. I'm sure I'll...figure it out myself." Angel was disappointed. She was ditching him for her boyfriend, probably.

"You want a ride? Cos, we could just swing by your place cos it's so close..." Buffy suggested.

"No, it's okay. I can walk."

"But-" Buffy protested.

"It's. Okay." Angel said, emphasising each word.

"Well, then, I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Bye," Buffy said, and dragged Gunn off so he could wait outside the girls' locker room while she changed. **I'm an idiot...I sure am.**

Part 10

"You're late," Giles stated as Buffy walked through the door. In his hands were two or three books that looked to her as if they were older than Giles. Twice over. At his heels, Thor followed like the little puppy dog that he was. Upon seeing Buffy, he barked happily and his tail wagged furiously.

Thor leapt towards her and nearly made her fall over, almost knocking her into Gunn at the same time.

Buffy laughed at Thor's little antics and gently bent down to pick up the overly excited pooch. "Aren't I usually?"

Giles considered it momentarily. "I suppose. But it's still no excuse." Giles blinked a few times before he removed his glasses and polished them with the handkerchief that he always kept in the breast pocket of his waistcoat. Giles' handkerchiefs were always a freshly-laundered, and always a crisp white in colour. And that was only one of Giles' funny habits... "Oh, and Buffy? Clean your room. It looks as if there was a stampede in there when Francine brought back your...whatever it was from the dry cleaner's." One of his many habits just HAD to be an exceptionally good memory. Like an elephant's, really.

"Okay...I'll remember that," Buffy muttered as Giles left for parts unknown. You could literally get lost in that house. If you could even call it a house. **Maybe I can bribe Gunn to clean it for me.**

Buffy turned around. He stood there, in all his black pride.

His eyes widened. "Uh-uh. No way. I seen your room. No way am I gonna clean that that thing. Not even if I get to see your underwear drawer. Why don't you ask loverboy to do it? I'm sure he'd be willing and able."

"What? No..." Buffy paused, "Did you just call Angel 'loverboy'?"

"He thinks you're gorgeous," Gunn teased in a sing-song voice, "he wants to kiss you, he wants to date you, he wants to love you, he wants to marry you."

"You need to get over your 'Miss Congeniality' obsession," Buffy replied flatly, "cos I'm now WAY beyond disturbed."

"A kick-ass woman, comedy AND lots of beautiful girls in bathing suits. What's not to like?" Gunn asked innocently.

Buffy just rolled her eyes. **Guys...! Always thinking with their dicks...**

*****

At 5:45 that night, the doorbell rang, loudly sounding throughout the much-too-large house. Buffy, expecting and anticipating seeing her voice trainer again rushed to get the door.

Upon opening the door, she found the person she had least wanted to see. They hadn't seen each other for almost three years.

"Hi Buffy. Missed me?"

*****

Angel slumped around his house, wearily going about his chores and doing his homework.

"What the fuck is wrong with you now?" Spike asked, only caring half-heartedly.

"Gee, and I thought you were smarter than that..." Angel muttered as he threw his heavy maths textbook on the dining table along with a small pile of other books.

"Homework?"

"No," Angel replied, leaning tiredly back into his chair.

"The football team."

"No," Angel replied again. He was already growing tired of his stepbrother's irritating tendencies.

"Erection problems?"

"William!"

"You dimwit," Faith interrupted. "It starts with a 'G'," she hinted, handing Spike a glass of root beer.

"Umm...grades?" Spike tried uncertainly.

"GIRLS!" Faith finally gave in. "And I thought that that was the only word you even knew how to spell except your own name and 'sex'..."

"Hey. I'll have you know that I never failed a single spelling test in elementary school," Spike stated proudly. "I can spell 'fuck' and 'you' and 'bitch'," Spike grinned at his girlfriend.

"Hello? I have problems here and all you two seem to want to do is play childish spelling games," Angel reminded them.

"Sorry," Spike apologised smugly. "So, how is it going with Darla?"

"I bumped into her this afternoon," Angel said, opening his maths books, "apparently I'm going to the Bronze tonight. She left before I could tell her otherwise."

"And...?" Spike prompted.

"And I don't want to go. Cordelia will be there."

Spike burst out laughing. "Two words that'll make it ALL better: 'good', 'luck'."

"Gee, thanks for the help..."

"Why don't you just break up with her?" Faith asked suddenly. "If she's as terrible as all that, then wouldn't it not be worth it?"

"Male pride," Spike stated simply and took another gulp of his root beer.

"What he said," Angel said, scribbling furiously in his book.

"Well then what the heck is the problem? It's not as if your dare is as bad as Billy Rowland's was," Faith said casually as she slid into a nearby armchair.

"What was his dare?"

"He had to kiss his mother..." Faith replied.

"How's that bad?" Angel asked, rejoining the conversation.

"...On the mouth."

Spike sent root beer spraying all over the expensive Persian rug under his feet. "Oh my God! Did you have to fucking tell us that? Now I'm as dead as Sigourney Weaver's career for getting this stuff on the carpet...oh well." He shrugged and took another gulp from his glass, emptying it.

"Did he go through with it?" Angel asked, holding his breath (as was Spike).

"Of course he did," Faith said. "He was drunk at the time."

Angel and Spike breathed a sigh of relief.

Angel tuned out and back to his homework. It was boring and useless and totally something he didn't want to be doing. His attention flickered out the window where he saw the faint figure of a girl, chatting with the security guy at the front gate. She was let through and hesitated when she lifted a finger to press the doorbell. Her hair was dark, wavy and she seemed to be fairly tall. Definitely not Cordelia.

**Okay, so maybe I was wrong in assuming that her 'plans' were with a guy... It could still be right though.**

Angel continued to watch, eyes widening when the door flew open, revealing the same black guy he had seen just today and the day before that. **That's strange...**

*****

"Umm, who are you?" Gunn asked, wracking his memory for the identity of the brunette girl standing in front of him. She was pretty: bright smile, confident and looked, well, rich.

"Who are you?" she shot back. "I need to talk to Buffy. I can see you hiding up there!"

"Again, I ask. Who are you?" Gunn asked again.

"Jennifer," Buffy's voiced hitched at the name that slipped out of her lips. "What are you doing here?"

"What? You're not even going to say 'hi'? How rude..." Jennifer commented bitterly.

"Hi. Are you jealous now?" Buffy asked caustically. Good ol' Jen had betrayed her all those years ago, sneaking behind her back to steal Tyler from her. She had been her supposed best friend. More like a conniving, bitching, stealing, cheating, trampy, jealous traitor.

"Why would I be? I live in a place in Bel Air now...I have the sweetest boyfriend on the face of the earth...I'm not stressed...I got nice teachers this year. How about you?" Jennifer raised an eyebrow, inwardly snickering away.

"Bel Air, huh? Prime real estate. I didn't like it. It was so overrated..." Buffy replied. She hurried down to the bottom of the stairs and grabbed Jennifer by the arm and slammed the door closed. "I like it here."

"Surprised to see me?"

"Not really. I've been expecting it for a long time now. Steal anyone else's boyfriend lately?"

"Tyler was hardly your boyfriend at the time anyway. You didn't spend time with him, talk to him on the phone or any of that stuff. If you didn't do any of that stuff, then who would?" Jennifer said innocently. "And if you wanted to know, we broke up about three months later. He moved to Massachusetts."

"Really? I bet he's really kicking himself now."

*****

Angel continued to watch as the girl was pulled forcefully into the house. **Strange...**

He wanted to know what was going on and he wanted to know what the truth was.

Angel closed his books and grabbed his jacket from the closet at the front door. He hastily put it on and grabbed his keys from next to the phone. Slamming the door behind him, he started heading in the direction of Buffy's house. He needed answers and he needed them now.

*****

Jennifer laughed. "I bet he is. Probably everyday, even."

Buffy grimaced, sitting down on whatever was convenient. Apparently the most convenient thing at the moment was the second step of the grand staircase. At least it was carpeted.

"Look, I'm sorry," Jennifer apologised suddenly, startling Buffy out of her trance. "For...well, everything."

"Then what was with the bitchy attitude before?" Buffy asked suspiciously. "You don't just come around looking to apologise and begin by being bitchy. It doesn't work that way."

"Honestly? Not a clue."

"I think I should sleep on it, see how a more rational me will handle it. You know?"

"Yeah, I know," Jen nodded. "Well, I should...go. I don't think I really feel welcome anymore. Or at all," Jennifer lowered her eyes to the ground and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Buffy halted her former best friend. "You should visit again. When you have time."

"Okay," Jennifer beamed, "I will. Bye." And with that, she let herself out.

"Now, where were we?" Gunn asked as soon as the door clicked closed.

"You were going to teach me how to dance 'properly'. And then you were saying how we can't slow dance to The Actual Tigers and I was saying that it IS possible," Buffy reminded him. "Remember?"

"Fine, fine. Put on the damn CD..." Gunn agreed reluctantly, ushering her to go get the CD with a wave of his hand.

"Yay! I win," Buffy beamed. She quickly turned the stereo on and pressed play.

"You usually do."

//It's hard to be seven It's hard to be forty I hear it's hard to reach heaven It's too hard to be holy// "This song sounds weird," Gunn commented as he showed her how to hold her arms.

"Well I guess you just have different musical tastes, so...uh," Buffy stuck out her tongue and concentrated on copying Gunn's steps.

//It's hard to be ageless It's hard to be phoney It's hard to be faceless It's hard to be lonely// "One, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three," Gunn counted rhythmically as he moved. Buffy mimicked his steps uncertainly, nodding her head discreetly to the beat of his counting. She never thought it could be so hard to slow dance; it something she'd never really had the opportunity to do because of her singing career.

"I never thought it would be so hard," Buffy commented quickly, struggling not to lose her rhythm. **One, two, three, one, two, three.**

//Well maybe I ought to say that I'm not And what have I got left to say?// "It's easier when you're younger. My mother taught me when I was eight. I *very* reluctant at the time," Gunn laughed. "You're doing well."

"Really? Cos right now I'm getting the impression that I suck at this," Buffy said, tipping her head to one side.

//Well I could write a long book about time and space I could write a long book about time and space We couldn't get along Time and space If I could only say so long// "Well with more practise..." Gunn teased.

Buffy laughed and punch her bodyguard in the arm playfully. "Stop doing that! You're joking about my inability to slow dance. It's no joking matter."

//It's hard to be Jacob It's hard to be Betty It's hard to just wake up And it's hard to get ready// *****

Angel watched from outside, gazing longingly through the window from where he was standing on her front stoop. He watched as she joked as she danced with the lucky guy that Angel wished he were in the shoes of. **Yeah, well, you don't always get what you want. I thought I learnt that lesson already.**

He turned and left, kicking up gravel as he walked. Back to his house...where his stepbrother and his girlfriend were probably enjoying themselves or screwing around. As usual.

*****

Buffy paused as she saw a figure walking down the driveway and disappearing beyond the gate. She shrugged. It was probably Jennifer, dawdling.

Just a minute later, a car drove in through the gates. **Miss Calendar's here! 6 o'clock. Right on time.**

"Finally, Jenny's here," Buffy said, breaking away from Gunn to open the door for her. She needed advice and since Jenny was the only close female friend she had in a 100 mile radius, she was also Buffy's only hope.

"Hey Buffy," Miss Calendar greeted her pleasantly as she shrugged off her coat. "Have y-"

"I need help."

*****

Angel glanced down at his watch. 6:02. **Well I'm not staying cooped up doing homework on a night like this. Not with those two going at it like bunnies while mom and dad are out for the evening. Bronze it is.**

Part 11

Two weeks later-after Angel had endured Hell for the sake of his manly pride-he had successfully dumped Darla. There had been crying and clinging and hateful (and ineffective) punching of the upper arms, but it was pure glory on his part. After all she had put him through-helping her mother puke onto the next door neighbours' vegetable patch, having to wait for her while she was paying her dues in detention, her insufferable conversation skills (and nauseating voice) and her numerous bad habits; too many to mention.

When he had gotten home that day, he was practically bouncing off the walls. Spike had looked at him like he had gone crazy-not that he minded. He was just happy to have finally completed his dare. He had never failed to complete a dare in his life and he wasn't about to start now. Not to mention his mother's pleasure on hearing the news.

During the two weeks, he had tried to stay as distant from Buffy as possible, always keeping at an arm's length with her. She'd also seemed to keep away from him, as if a little bump or accidental brushing of hands were the worst crime she could ever commit. He had even begun to wonder what kind of person she really was if she seemed to be so outgoing and not-shy in the public eye, but so...conserved and meek when you got to know her a bit more. Still, it had only been two weeks-two fairly short weeks at that.

Angel wanted nothing more to confront her with it, but was afraid it would seem too much like an interrogation or as if he were forcing her into something. That wasn't the kind of foot he wanted to get off with her. He just wasn't that kind of guy. He was one of the most popular guys at school, but he tried not to make a habit of being a "campus stud" as many liked to call it. Pfft, like the atmosphere could handle any more testosterone gun-slinging...

*****

A week after the glorious dumping of Darla was to be the first game of his team's season. They'd been training non-stop ever since the summer break and were psyched about finally being able to play a real game. The feeling rubbed off on all the newbies as well, even though they'd only been a part of the team for a few short weeks.

It was all ducky with Angel; the more of that good old "team spirit", the better.

"So, Angel, ready for tonight's game?" Cordelia asked out of nowhere. He had not even seen her approaching, his thoughts mellowing him into a trance-like state. He hadn't even had the chance to run. All his friends surrounded him, punching on the arm or laughing knowingly.

"As ready as I'll ever be. Besides, aren't we playing that really crappy team from two counties over?" Angel shrugged. To him, Cordelia was and had always been the so-called "village bicycle", just not in such a crude, Austin Powers kind of way.

"So...do you have anything planned afterward?" Cordelia asked hopefully. She'd been chasing him for, like, ever, but he never seemed to get the idea.

But in reality, he *did* know. And he was eager to shake it off. "Actually? I do have something. Sorry Cordy. I guess you're just gonna have to have fun without me," he said, trying not to let out the sarcasm imbedded deep in his need to get rid of the girl.

"Oh," Cordelia was disappointed. She knew he'd probably turn her down, but she had still hoped that...oh well. "Okay, well...I'll see you at the game then. Bye."

After she left, Angel let out a sigh of relief and laughed along with the guys on his team about what had transpired between himself and Cordelia. She was being made a mockery of, but frankly, Angel couldn't care less. He had thought she'd learnt her lesson when she had once tried to bully Faith, but he'd been wrong. Her persistence was driving him insane-not *quite* literally, fortunately.

Angel let his mind wander-as well as his eyes-finally settling on the one and only Miss Buffy Summers. The embodiment of the girl of his dreams (and the dreams of countless other young men...and hopefully not older men). It was unbearable for him to keep at a distance; at the moment he was only sure of two things about her-other than her name, age, address and all that other general stuff-1) she was a mystery, and 2) she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen OR met.

He also knew that she was nice, funny, smart, charming, amicable, pleasant, charismatic, and a whole long list of other adjectives that could easily have been part of his vocab study for his SAT's but currently couldn't think of. The only adjective he could think of was 'dubious', which he certainly couldn't use to describe Buffy. **Okay, then damn my 'dubious'...ness.**

He was also dubious about whether or not that black guy she was always around was really her boyfriend. Even his mother complained that always seemed to just *assume* things. Things like getting a baby brother (instead he got Spike, the ever-annoying stepbrother), having pizza for dinner (instead they went to Italy) and that he was in trouble every time he was sent to the principal's office (which was he actually usually right about). It was all part of the growing up process-he'd always assumed-and old habits die hard.

*****

After hard work and intensive practising, the cheerleading team had become the best they could be in the three weeks they had been preparing. With perseverance and the menace of Queen C, they had somehow put together a routine for halftime and had even gotten around to learning a few cheers off by heart.

Buffy had spilled her guts to her voice-trainer-slash-quasi-therapist about everything. Jenny had been rash as usual and suggested that she go for it and make the first move. Buffy had turned pale at the thought. She was an old-fashioned sort of girl who liked having doors opened for her, her chairs pulled out and being walked to her door, not to mention, waiting for the guy to make the first move. It might very well have had something to do with being assigned to reading too many Jane Austen novels by her tutor over the years.

When Jenny offered to visit more often, Buffy jumped at the chance to have her around. Although her friendship with Willow was becoming stronger by the day, she still felt that the red head was still a bit wigged out about her fame; like she expected to wake up at any moment or that she had regressed into a different mental state and had left behind her real world where she was in a coma. The girl *was* rather colourful, after all. She had jumped at the chance for Jenny to be around more often as a close friend, Buffy had an inkling that the stuffy and proper Giles had developed a thing for her 30-something and still lively voice trainer.

But right now she had more to worry about than a possible romance between her manager and voice trainer.

"What?" Buffy exclaimed. 'Shouted' would've been more precise, but there's no need to go into to details...

"Some, uh, information leaked out into the press recently," her mother said gently from the other end of the line. "Nothing to worry about though, honey, we'll set them straight as soon as we can."

"They know where I am," Buffy stated with a sigh. **Great, just great. Lemme guess who leaked. Could it be my good friend Jennifer? The one who stole my boyfriend in freshman year and returned some weeks ago with a lopsided case?** "Tell them I'm in Bermuda or something, I don't know. Do whatever you have to. This town is one in a million. I don't want to have to move." **Not when I still haven't taken up Jenny's advice. The other Jenny, I mean.**

"We're working on it, sweetie. Have fun at school. Say hello to Mr Giles for me," Joyce said pleasantly.

"Yeah, sure. Bye mom," Buffy said, hanging up her mobile. Sunnydale really was one in a million. Hearing all of Xander, Willow and Oz's tales of their brushes with fame, Buffy realised that THIS tiny town had had its fair share of Hollywood road-trippers.

Buffy had heard about Angel's break-up with his girlfriend. **What's her name again? Something that starts with 'D'?** Buffy had noticed the way he had been trying to avoid eye contact with her, but checked her out when he thought she didn't know. She should've been used to the attention, but it was...flattering, coming from him. There was no denying that she thought he was HOT. He still hadn't asked her for coffee or anything like that. She just hoped he wasn't being an ass and not realising that she liked him. A lot. She'd tried staying away because of his so-called girlfriend already, but what's-her-name was no longer an obstacle, leaving an opening for her to jump in and...**Make the first move?**

It was then and there that she decided that she would do exactly that-tonight-and ask him to the afterparty that was going to be held at the Bronze. Heck, if she didn't ask him soon, then she'd never get to. Not if she had to relocate. **I just *knew* Jen was up to something... If I ever see her again...well let's just say it won't be pretty.**

At that moment, she heard the faint beat of a song coming from the radio of the chauffeur's compartment. She pressed the button to lower the partition of black tinted glass between the two sections of the limo and asked him to turn the volume up in the back.

//I been living down the road You've been up the street I think it's about time You come talking to me//

Buffy paused. **Okay. That's scary. Who's this song by and why does the lyrics sound so close to home? Scary, scary, scary as. Fuck!**

//I see the way you look at me You see I don't mind I know that you've been thinking about The perfect opening line//

**Okay, shit me now. It's getting scarier and scarier. He lives on my street, across the road, he checks me out when he doesn't know that I know and I just *know* that there's something he wants to say. Hopefully, to ask me out.** Buffy smiled at the thought and concentrated on the rest of the lyrics. No such thing as coincidence and leprechauns, she always said whenever she had a similar experience, or whenever she had déjà vu.

//It's a shame you Keep playing your game I don't wanna wait no more//

**Damn straight. And that's why I'm going to stop being stupid and doing...whatever it is that my both crazy *and* insane mind convinced me to do a minute ago that included the words "make the first move".**

//You can be my hottie, hottie Not just anybody, body Everybody knows how the story goes We can have a party, party You, me, and nobody, body Everybody knows how the story goes//

**Angel sure is hot. Hotter than hot. And I've seen a LOT of hot guys in my lifetime. I'm like a cat; lots of lives, lots of guys...not many dates, however.** Buffy listened until the end of the song for the name of the artist, that way she could borrow it, buy it, download it-anything to get her hands on a copy. She was a bit weird when it came to music; she liked anything and everything. Heck, she even liked classical music.

*****

Buffy breathed deeply and concentrated. It was crunch time. She was going to go over there along with Cordelia and talk to Angel. The game had been won easily, 40 to nothing, and had passed Buffy like a blink of the eye.

"...his name is Gunn," Buffy overheard Cordelia saying to Angel.

"Who's name is Gunn?" Buffy asked, joining into the conversation.

"Your hunk of a bodyguard, duh," Cordelia said none-too-pleasantly before stalking off and dragging Harmony away from a small pack of chatty, air-headed girls.

"Oh, yeah, that one," Buffy muttered under her breath as she watched Harmony give Cordy a mirror to check her hair and makeup in. **And I thought that girl would've carried a mirror in her undies if need be.**

"Okay..." Angel raised his eyebrows from the rather bracing experience of having talked to Cordelia. His gaze tracked the brunette across to the other side of the car park where a tall, dark, African American guy-**Oh God. That guy isn't Buffy's boyfriend.**

"What's up? You like you just saw a ghost," Buffy joked. "What is it?" She turned to see what it was that had held Angel's attention. Gunn flirting with Cordy. **Like that's an unfamiliar thing for Gunn to do. Why is he staring?**

"That guy-is he really your bodyguard?"

"Last time I checked," Buffy replied, puzzled as to why Angel would stare at Gunn for so long. **Oh God, scary thought. He's not gay, he can't be gay, Larry's already gay...oh God.** "Angel, your scaring me."

Angel turned his line of vision back to the familiar face of Buffy, finally realising what an idiot he'd been all this time. "I'm such a fucking idiot," he said, mouth still agape after having said it.

"You're not, uh, you're not gay are you?"

Angel snapped out of it at *that* comment. "What?! No way. All this time I thought he was your boyfriend, that's all."

"Oh." Buffy paused, "Oh..."

"Yeah, 'oh'," he nodded. "I was so attracted to you and I had to keep myself from telling you or letting anything on to anyone because I thought you were involved with him," Angell babbled. "I'm smart, aren't I?" He laughed at the sarcasm. "I can just see you saying 'why' right about now."

"Why?"

"I kept seeing you two together; him helping with your books, you kissing him on the cheek, the both of spending so much time together, and I saw you slow dancing once when I was coming over to your house to, well, actually I can't remember. Not to mention, he's a pretty good looking guy."

"Gunn? He's like my brother. So there's nothing to worry about in that department. If I'd known you thought he was my honey...well then we'd be at the Bronze already," Buffy hinted.

"That'd be nice," Angel smiled at the thought. He took one of her hands in his and said, "Be my date?" With a hopeful smile, of course.

"Of course," Buffy said, clasping the hand that held her own. "And now that I can slow dance, we can go to the Bronze...and, well, slow dance." At that moment, Buffy's mind chose to remember the lyrics to the bridge of the song. She'd downloaded it that afternoon and had been listening to it the whole time on repeat. It was strange how it just fitted so well.

//Finally you come talking to me I want you in my life You will see that Once upon a time Not long ago there was a guy Who was a show And now you realise Don't wanna wait anymore//

**Okay, except for the 'other guy' stuff. The last time I had a proper boyfriend was absolutely *ages* ago. How sad is that? Oh well, now I have Angel as my date to the afterparty, I'm happy. Blissfully, actually.**

"You smell like sweat," Buffy said, wrinkling her nose. "In a very manly way."

"Thanks for telling me that. Now I have something else to puzzle over about women."

"Funny."

"I'm a funny guy."

**Woah, déjà vu.**

Part 12

Upon entering the Bronze, the pair were assaulted with the smell of sweat and over-sweetened drinks mixed with the musk of lust and overexerted teens. Buffy clutched to Angel's arm, afraid of losing Angel in the crowd.

She clung to his well-muscled arm as they weaved through the crowd towards Willow, who looked to be involved in a heated conversation with Oz, or rather, a heated make-out session. Xander was absent, but Buffy assumed that he was once again on the dance floor, shaking his bonbon and embarrassing a number of other patrons while he was at it.

"Don't take any notice of us," Buffy said as she slid down to sit on the adjacent raspberry-pink love seat. She pulled Angel down to sit next to her, leaning her head on his shoulder the moment he was settled.

Willow and Oz broke out of the kiss abruptly and looked flushed, nervously straightening their clothes out. "Hey, you two," Willow greeted them. "Where've you been? We've been here for ages now."

"Tell me, did you really take notice? Besides, we're only a couple of minutes late, and that's only because me and Angel had a revelation," Buffy said, giving her date a loving squeeze in the arm, "sort of."

"So I take it you're an item now," Oz said, putting two and two together.

Buffy looked at Angel for an answer, as if to make sure she hadn't taken it wrongly. He smiled, snaking his hand around her waist and pulling her closer towards him. "Yep," Angel replied simply.

"And you tell me I'm a man of few words," Oz whispered to Willow, who, upon hearing what her boyfriend had said, elicited a short giggle.

She held a hand up to Oz's ear and whispered, "They make such a cute couple."

"Hey! What are you guys whispering about us?" Buffy asked defensively, but was obviously just playing around with some otherwise slightly boring chit-chat.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Willow replied teasingly, nuzzling her face against Oz's shoulder. "I was just telling Oz what a cute couple you make."

Buffy beamed. "Well I don't know if you could really call BO boy over here 'cute'," she joked, holding him tighter despite what she'd just said.

"I take offence to that."

"Fine, then you can be my hottie boy," Buffy said, referring back to the song she had heard on the radio earlier. She gave him a dazzling smile and kissed him on the cheek playfully.

Angel laughed softly, "Better than BO boy, I suppose."

Buffy shook her head and smiled, pressing her chin into his shoulder, digging softly into his collarbone. She quickly flashed him a meek smile, as if to say "just try it".

"You've been a couple for what? Less than half an hour? And you're already doing teasing and all that fluff that comes along with the...coupley-ness. That's so...I can't even think of a word for it," Willow beamed, looking to her currently purple-headed boyfriend for suggestions.

"Cute?" Oz suggested uncertainly.

"Yeah, that's the word. Cute," Willow turned back to face the supposedly 'cute' couple who just looked at each other with eyebrows raised. "Okay...I said it before, but...you just *are*. A cute couple, I mean."

"Note to self: buy a thesaurus for Willow," Buffy said, earning her a wide grin and some mild laughter from Angel, Oz and Willow.

"Really? I don't have a thesaurus at home. My mom has one at her office. It helps you get lots of fancy words to make you seem all smart and stuff," Willow gushed, very close to bouncing in her seat if Oz hadn't stopped her with a gentle hand on her knee.

"But you're already smart and stuff," Oz replied in a quiet voice. Willow responded with a kiss, leading to more kisses and to Buffy and Angel turning their full attention back to each other.

"Dance?" Angel offered.

"Of course," Buffy accepted, dragging him onto the dance floor for the slow, sappy love song that they had started to play in the stead of a live band (who were currently taking a break). She hoped that her slow dancing skills were still up to scratch from when Gunn had last coached her on it during the previous weekend. It seemed that her feet just couldn't stand the aching slowness of it all. That was Buffy-always the party girl.

"Suppose I met the girl of my dreams-well, of many people's dreams-and I were to ask her out for a date on Friday night. Do you think she'd say yes?" Angel asked as he swayed to the music.

Buffy smiled into the comfort of his not overly-muscled chest, "I always knew you were a charmer."

"So will you go out with me Friday night?"

"Maybe I have plans..." Buffy teased.

Angel's heart sank at the thought, "Oh...do you really?"

Buffy thought for a moment, scanning her memory for anything that could possibly coincide, "Crap. I can't. I have to go visit my parents in LA. I've been away from them for nearly two months now. And I'm sure Giles has something planned for me as well since my mom probably talked to him about the leak... Shit. Classic case of 'I would, if I could, but I can't'."

Angel blinked, absorbing the information and trying to figure out what she'd said after the first mention of the word 'can't'. "Oh... That's okay then. Blood's thicker than water...whatever that means."

"You can come if you want. It'll be fun, I promise," Buffy said in a sing-song voice.

Angel couldn't resist the pout that came after his extended silence, "Sure."

"Great!" Buffy beamed, hugging him tighter to her. "So tell me-do you like Passions?"

*****

"Here's your itinerary, your house keys, car keys, backstage passes, and everything you'll need. Also," Giles reached down behind his desk, pulling out a small, fluffy ball from around his ankles, "here's your dog." Buffy took everything, struggling to hold everything all at the same time, especially Thor.

"You know, it's a good thing I walked him already," Buffy said, ignoring Giles and focusing all her attention on the mop-like fluffy ball of dog that currently resided under her right arm. "Oh, and I forgot to tell you..."

"What?" Giles snapped back to attention from his drawer-rummaging. "Is anything wrong?"

"Oh, no, nothing drastic. I'm just bringing a few friends along. Actually, they're friends of a friend, including my...friend," Buffy said, hesitant to tell Giles that she had developed a relationship with Angel. At the beginning of the whole thing, Giles had said a very strong 'no' to relationships other than friendship, claming that it wouldn't be a good idea. **"I think it would be best for either party for you NOT to be linked romantically with anyone while in Sunnydale. It'll be bad for publicity..." Yadda, yadda, yadda...Giles should learn that I don't really ever listen to him.**

"Oh...well, nothing can be done about that now, is there?" Giles said hurriedly, once again rummaging through his drawer for something.

"Giles? What are you looking for?" Buffy asked, rising on the balls of her feet to try to see what Giles was up to. He ignored her question and continued to look, opening the next drawer down to search for whatever it was that he was searching for.

"Aha!" Giles finally said triumphantly. "I found it."

"And what would this 'it' be? A rabbit in a top hat?" Buffy asked impatiently.

"It's a bottle of sunscreen and Miss Walkens' new Bel Air residence and phone number." Giles handed her a small, plastic tube and a piece of paper with an address in a neat, black script. **Probably written in his "favourite fountain pen" as well.**

"Sunscreen?"

"It's going to be sunny in Los Angeles this weekend, and seeing that you'll be spending a fair bit of time outside, I don't think it would hurt to put a bit on. Prevention is better than cure...or so they say," Giles sat back into his large desk chair and went through a large stack of sponsorship legality papers. "Also, it's under sponsorship. Apparently, all you have to do is use it."

"Right...I'm sponsored by a sunscreen company? It's probably all stinky and oily and all the other grossities of sunscreen," Buffy exclaimed in exasperation. "Not that, you know, sunscreen is a bad thing," she added to appease Giles' predictable protest. "Thanks for the address, by the way."

"The sunscreen actually has a rather nice smell to it."

"Really?" Buffy unscrewed the lid carefully, not wanted to drop everything, especially Thor. Holding it to her nose, she found it had a refreshing, summery scent. "Ooh, nice..."

*****

"Hurry up, Gunn. We're all waiting for you," Buffy shouted towards the front door, where Gunn had accidentally bashed his foot in the doorframe trying to get his luggage through. Buffy had Thor on his leash and had already put him in the car. The chauffeur was waiting and everyone was already inside except for the macho 'I don't pack as much as you' guy.

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Hold onto your panties, will ya?" Gunn lugged the bag through the door and shoved it into the trunk and slammed it closed.

"Finally," Buffy teased before getting into the limo, picking up a happily yapping Thor from Spike's lap.

"Your dog is *scary*. Get that thing away from me. I always have to put up with Peaches' Bertha Blue as it is. Yapping and attacking me..." Spike complained. He'd decided to tag along as soon as the words 'Passions set' were mentioned. He'd been a fan of the show for years and had only missed an episode when there was a blackout during the day and had put his VCR out of service and the timer out of whack. But it was all okay because his father's secretary had taped the episode by accident and had kindly given the tape to the slightly crazed 17-year-old.

"He's not a *thing*," Buffy replied, lovingly petting the dog under its chin to a much appreciated response.

"Well it's not a person either."

"True, but he's not a 'thing'," Buffy shot back.

"Alright, he's not a 'thing' then. When do we get there?"

"Are you always this annoying?" Buffy asked, slightly playfully.

A chorus of 'yes' came from Angel, Faith and Cordelia.

"Hey! No one asked *you*," Spike shot at Cordelia, who had tagged along as Gunn's guest. "You don't know me well, I don't know you well, and I don't think that being quick to judge is a good idea." He paused, "Did that just come out of my mouth or did I imagine it?"

Angel just laughed at him, "Does it matter?"

Spike just shrugged and settled back into his seat. He had to admit that it was rather comfortable, unless you counted the fact that the limo was packed; six people, not including the driver. "Well, let's get going," he shouted rudely to the chauffeur. "I got autographs to collect and fun to be had," he informed the rest of them with a funny grin that made everyone except Cordelia crack up. She just sent a death glare in his direction which made him stop grinning and send her a 'bugger off' look.

And so, the troupe of 6 made their way on the two-hour drive to Los Angeles with Spike to keep them company and Thor yapping out the window for the entire trip. There wasn't a single person who wasn't happy to get to Buffy's place and get relief from cramped legs, dehydration and, last but not least, some dinner.

"I wish Will, Xand and Oz could've come," Buffy said to Angel as soon as they got out of the car at her parents' LA home. "Willow wasn't allowed, Xander's grounded and Oz said he wouldn't come unless Will went. It would've been the perfect time for her mother's ignorance."

"She'll survive without coming on the trip, Buffy. Don't do the guilt trip thing. Not good for you," Angel reassured her. "And trust me, I know."

"Okay," Buffy nodded, biting her lip. "Who's hungry?"

Go to Part 13