Part Sixteen

After school the following day, Buffy, Willow and Xander stood around the High School lounge looking over the long pieces of butcher paper that they had just finished painting. Xander was staring proudly over his work of a splatter paint design while Buffy and Willow admired their neatly painted yellow piece.

"This sheet of butcher paper one day...will be famous," he said to the girls in a proud voice. "I will be known throughout the world..."

"As the best person who can splatter paint on paper?" Buffy questioned.

"You mock me now, but just you wait..."

"We shouldn't mock him Buffy," Willow began to say. "I mean he could be right, he could become famous for this -- you should see his finger paint art from second grade. That stuff could be priceless."

"How foolish of me," Buffy tittered.

"I'm gonna go get more paint," Xander offered and made his way to the Art room.

As soon as he left, Willow turned to Buffy looking overly eager. "Well? The talk? How'd the talk go?"

"Right," Buffy cleared her throat. "He can't...you know."

"Have baby Eggberts?" Willow frowned.

"Exactly. I felt so bad for freaking like that afterwards too."

"Oh Buffy, that's not your fault though."

"I know. I just felt terrible for bringing it up, I should've known better. He didn't seem uncomfortable about telling me, which is a good -- but I don't think he would have told me to begin with."

"He has opening up issues, that's understandable. Most guys are like that."

"That's true. I just don't want him to think at all that he can't talk to me about these things."

"You should tell him that," Willow nodded. "When he comes around today."

"He's not...coming around today. I asked him to stay home, I'm gonna swing by after we're done here before patrol. You and Xander are coming with me, I'm not letting you out of my *sight* until this all blows over. And even then."

"Buffy, you don't have to worry about us."

"I do worry, when you live on a Hellmouth, Will..."

"Okay, worry, but not too much."

"Promise. Okay, now we need the paint. Where's Xander?"

"Getting it. So what do we wanna write on these?"

"Parent teacher night and the date?" Willow blinked. "Just a thought."

"Good thought, a simple thought. Did you see the flyers Angel and I made?"

"Oh yeah! The pink one's so cute!"

Buffy grinned. "That one would be mine. The one with the big black writing and all that? That's Angel's."

Willow rolled her eyes in a teasing manner. "He's such a guy."

"He's my guy," Buffy said in a slightly defensive tone.

"Ladies, I have the paint," Xander announced and set them on the empty table they had pulled up. "Dig in and enjoy while I make a pit stop for a mop -- just in case." He slipped away again.

Buffy and Willow exchanged a look. "The art room isn't that far away. Why'd he take so long?"

Willow watched after Xander as he disappeared around the bend. "Not sure, but at least he's being semi helpful. We should get painting."

Buffy shrugged and went over to the canisters Xander had brought. "See, since we painted it yellow the words should be...black?"

"Ooh, maroon! School colors!"

"Ah, good choice. Which one's maroon?" Buffy stared at the paint cans blankly.

"I think we're gonna have to mix colors."

"Oh...you can do that part right? Since I really don't know which ones to mix."

Willow chuckled at her friend and nodded. "Sure, I can mix."

--

Cordelia looked angrily at Xander as he entered the broom closet. She even hit him in the arm for a better effect.

"What took you so long?!"

"A man needs to drink."

"Man?" Cordelia scoffed.

Xander pretended to laugh. "You know, I really think we should find an open classroom. This closet...I've got poked in the back by that mop five times now."

"The mop you're supposed to be taking to them," Cordelia reminded. "And then say you're going home so you can come back here with me."

"They can wait," he subtly hinted as he moved in on Cordelia. He was dating the hottest girl in school, next to Buffy, and he couldn't say a word about it. It was a torment he'd just have to sit through. Cordelia pressed her mouth to his, easily starting up one of their typical hormonal filled, closet-centered manifestations of teen angst.

Before they fell to the floor, she reached up to turn the light out.

--

"I'm *really* sorry, Buffy!" Willow pleaded. "I didn't mean to...splatter."

Buffy stared down at her red-paint stained skirt and sighed. "Willow, it's okay. I'm not going to bite off your head for it."

Still flinching at the damage she'd done, she backed up a small step. "I'm still sorry."

"Willow, relax. It's no big. I'll just go get one of the towels out of the janitor's closet and see if I spot Xander. We need to get this mess cleaned up. Wait here, okay?"

"Okay," Willow squeaked.

Buffy gave her a reassuring smile and went off in search of the nearest janitor's closet. She passed by one without thinking -- the only thing bringing her attention back to it was the sound of a few items falling off their shelves. She glanced around curiously before approaching the closet.

She tugged on the door, making sure it wasn't locked, and opened it. She blindly reached in, finding the light switch and pulled on it. She dropped her gaze to the floor and nearly lost her lunch on the floor there.

"Xander?! Cordelia?!" Buffy backed up, mortified. "What the hell is going on?!"

"XANDER!" Cordelia hissed and stood up, dragging Xander with her. "I told you to take the stupid mop with you first!"

"Uh...hi Buffy!" Xander managed to sputter out.

"You do realize how completely crushed Willow is going to be when I tell her about this don't you?" Buffy shook her head at Xander. "Just...hand me the towel behind you and...I'll go. Leave you two to your tonsil swallowing."

Xander, keeping his head down, turned and reached for the towel as asked and handed it to her. She shot them both a steamy glare and slammed the door. Xander and Cordelia looked at each other momentarily.

Cordelia finally broke the silence. "This is all *your* fault!"

Part Seventeen

Buffy walked right back into the student lounge with the towel gripped tightly in her hand as she brushed past Willow. Willow watched after her for a minute, becoming puzzled.

"Buffy? The poster's are over here..."

Buffy stopped abruptly, turned ever so slowly on the heel of her shoe and marched back to Willow.

"Sorry," the Slayer apologized to her friend. "Just had some walking ventage to do."

"Is something wrong?"

Buffy calmed down at the concern in her voice. "Yes, but...maybe we should get the paint of my skirt before I go off into a fury."

"I think the fury should come first. In fury there's paint to be thrown, so..."

Buffy huffed, "Fine. It's about Xander. And Cordelia. And closet smooching."

Willow struggled to find her voice box. "I...I have to go."

"Willow...I realize it's...disgusting. And disgusting still, but...I mean it *is* Xander..."

Willow's lower lip quivered as if she were about to cry. "You don't understand. For our whole lives...Xander and I have been picked on by Cordelia. We -- we had a club! A-and--"

"Willow, I know. You went through your childhood with me a couple of weeks ago, remember? It's hard to stomach, I know, I saw it firsthand but..."

"I can't be here...I'm...I'm gonna go home."

"What about mixing colors? I--I need help," Buffy pleaded in a childlike voice. "Don't go, Will. Scold Xander tomorrow. Hey, we can even mock him at lunch."

"You don't understand, Buffy...I need to go sulk."

"So sulk here, I don't want you to sulk alone."

Willow looked watery-eyed at her best friend. "Okay. On the couch, good sulking there."

"Hey, wherever you need to sulk, we can sulk."

Willow sniffed, drying her tears she was trying to force back. "Thanks, Buffy."

Buffy hugged her. "No problem."

--

Angel opened the door to see Buffy standing there marred with paint. His eyebrows raised, though he gestured for her to come in instead of directly asking the obvious. As she walked in, he shut the door and then decided it was appropriate.

"What happened...?"

Buffy dropped her purse by the door, shaking her head as she ran her hands through her hair. "Some stuff happened after school."

"A...paint demon?"

Buffy laughed. "No, Willow accidentally spilled paint on me...I went to go get a towel from the janitor's closet and lo and behold, there's Xander and Cordy looking like they can't get enough of each other's mouths. Like a two become one thing, only with tongues. Not pretty."

Angel reeled at the very mental image. "I can see why you'd be upset."

"No, it just caught me off guard. Willow's taking it the worst...we spent an hour sulking. And she was crying, me -- I was kind of crying because she was crying. We're gonna mock Xander tomorrow at lunch though."

"He deserves it," Angel agreed.

"Yeah...Anyway, I brought some clothes to keep here." She held up her backpack with a triumphant smile that she remembered. "Do you have a drawer I can keep them in?"

"Sure, here...let me clean one out for you." He headed towards the opposite side of the room and knelt down, tugging open two drawers and emptying one into the other. Each particle of clothing stayed neatly folded in the process Buffy noticed as she took stand next to him.

"You can just throw 'em in there, Angel. Don't have to be neat and tidy...'cause if you were I'd stay and watch and mom *really* wants to see me tonight. She's wigging."

Angel nodded and proceeded to stuff the rest of the clothes in the drawer, choosing to disregard the fact that there were bras and other items hidden in the pile. He stood up, holding the backpack out to her. She took it and gestured for him to inch nearer.

They kissed. She dropped her bag, and she was an hour late getting home. Life was good.

Part Eighteen

Buffy hopped through her window and turned quickly, sliding it shut as quietly as possible. She hoped her Mom would come in and check after she'd gotten her pajama's on, it'd seem more reasonable then having her street clothes on. Punishment would logically be less severe. She quickly declothed herself and slipped into her regular nightly attire and climbed into bed. As she was reaching for the phone, her Mother walked in. She didn't look happy.

"Buffy, it's eleven o'clock."

"I've been in here for a while..."

"No, you haven't. I came in and checked to see if you were here right at eleven. I know you have that habit to come in through the window."

"Never miss a thing, huh? That's what mom's are for," Buffy sighed. "Look, I'm not gonna lie. I have been here for a little while...but I got sidetracked."

"Angel," Joyce narrowed her eyes. "It was him, right?"

"No...no run in with the vampire express."

"That is -- a good excuse..." Joyce trailed off, but not without an agitated huff. "I just worry, you have this nightlife and I think the worst when you're late."

"Well, hey, if I'm ever late coming in call Giles."

"Why Mr. Giles?" Joyce blinked.

"Because he's my Watcher?"

"You must have missed that part of the lore."

"Oh, well, okay. There's this group of stuffy British guys in England called the Watcher's Council. They're like a guide for the Slayer, show her the ropes, do the research -- all the stuff *I* wouldn't be caught dead doing. So if I'm out, he's your best bet."

"I see. So that's why you're always in the library?"

"Pretty much. Anyway, I'm feeling kind of beat...I'm gonna go to sleep now, have to get ready for PT Night and all."

Joyce smiled thinly and kissed her daughter on the cheek. "Good night, dear. Sweet dreams."

Buffy returned the smile. "Thanks. I'll try to do that."

Joyce nodded slightly and left the room, shutting the door behind her. Buffy settled down under the covers, forgetting all about her phone call in her quest for a dreamless slumber.

--

Buffy and Willow stared silently across the table at Xander who was picking at his lunch food. He finally looked up to see the girl's staring at him and shifted around uncomfortably.

"Can I not eat in peace?" He snapped.

"It is peaceful," Buffy retorted. "You're just uncomfy 'cause Cordy's over there with her girlfriends."

Xander dropped his fork, giving an almighty look of hate. "Is this what this is about? Look, so I closet-dated her and I didn't tell you guys. We've all kept secrets before. This is stupid!"

"Stupid?" Willow repeated irately. "You're the one dating Cordelia."

"You guys are overreacting. So we're dating, it's High School. It's not like it'll last!" Xander's voice was rising. "That's it, I'm gone." He stood up, his chair falling back in the process.

Buffy shook her head at him. "Now who's overreacting?"

Xander stopped, giving it some thought. "I am falling back on your level, huh? Okay, I'm gonna finish my lunch and have a nice lip-locky outing in the janitor's closet. Any complaints?"

"Well, look on the bright side. He could've turned out gay..."

Willow crossed her arms over her stomach, leaning back in her chair. "I guess."

By now, dozens of students had overheard Xander's shouting and it was all being filtered through the cafeteria. When it finally reached Cordelia, the story had completely been twisted. Harmony leaned in to her friend with a smirk.

"Heard you and Xander go do it in your closet."

Cordelia glowered. "*What*?!"

Harmony shrugged and poked at her steak fingers with a spoon. "It's true isn't it? You and Xander have been dating since third grade. I hear he says it's not gonna last through high school..."

"No, it's not true! God, where did you hear this?"

"From Todd...he said Xander was arguing with what's-her-name over there. Like, he's dating her too only no one knows."

"What's-her-name would be...?"

"The weird girl."

"Buffy?! Okay, you know what?"

"What?"

"Yes, I am dating Xander Harris. No I *don't* care what you say or what you've heard, none of it's true -- except for the Buffy part, that I'm not sure of but highly doubt -- and if you have any qualms with it well that's just peachy!" Cordelia stood up, giving each of her friends their own glares and then marched over to Buffy's table. She pulled up a chair and sat down without even acknowledging them.

Buffy was impressed. "Think you'll make it through the day?"

"No," Cordelia grumbled. "This is all your fault."

"My fau--no, I'm not even gonna try..."

Xander glanced over to Cordelia. "Hi?"

She stared back. "Hi."

--

"Well, that was bracing," Buffy said to Willow as they entered the library. "I never knew there could be so much tension at lunch."

"Mhm, must be the beets. Or were they radishes?" Willow decided against giving that any thoughts as she sat on the tabletop next to her friend. "I really wasn't expecting that from Cordelia, of all people..."

"I guess there's a good person hidden under all the layers of Cordyness. Hey, at least now we know she has a soul!" Buffy nudged Willow with a small, teasing grin.

She laughed at the little pointed comment. "Yeah, I guess so. Oh well...maybe they deserve each other. And like Xander said, it probably won't last through High School..."

"I really didn't like that he said that part though. That was...wrong somehow. I mean when you date you should think long-term," Buffy pouted.

"I think that's just a girl thing."

"Oh..." Buffy shifted her attention to the librarian as he was exiting his office. "Hey Giles."

"Ah, good afternoon Buffy, Willow. How was er...lunch?"

Willow giggled, "He's making conversation, Buffy. Or trying."

"I think someone's had too many moments of Miss Calendar for today," Buffy taunted. "Lunch was so interesting, Giles, but it'd bore you to death. And what would we do without you?"

"I see. Well, I was just on my way to--"

"See Miss Calendar," Buffy finished easily. "Don't worry, we'll stay here and figure out ways to prevent St. Vigeous. Sharpen many stakes."

"Actually I was going to go to my house and collect some materials, but it would be good of you to stock up on weaponry. I'll be back before sunset," Giles stole quickly out of the library.

"Me and my extra big mouth," Buffy sighed.

"It's okay Buffy, we should probably do that anyway. Better safe than really dead and sorry."

"I know, I'm just whining. Let's make that fated visit to the wood shop class and get some chair legs."

"Can we sit and sulk first?"

Almost a little too eagerly, Buffy replied, "Sure!"

Anything was better than spending the evening sharpening stakes. Or make snacks and punch for the dreaded Parent Teacher Night.

Go to Part Nineteen