CHAPTER 1:



Okay, so I know what you’re thinking just by looking at me: ‘blonde, beautiful, wealthy, from California…she must be dumb as a rock and living the cliché’. Actually, I’m a pretty normal, humble person.

“Rosa! Have you seen my red, Prada pumps?!”

My mom owns the biggest art gallery in Sunnydale. She and my dad fought over it in divorce court, and after I shed a few tears on the stand like a tiny Drew Barrymore, the Summers Gallery was officially the property of the former Mrs. Joyce Summers, and she’s been working hard at it ever since.

“Morning, honey.” My mom smiled at me as I rushed into the kitchen, heading towards the coffee. If I don’t get my morning caffeine buzz, my day just doesn’t go right.

“Morning, have you seen my Prada pumps?”

“The red ones or the black ones?”

“The red.”

“Nope, did you ask Rosa?”

“You know Rosa, mom. I say one word to her and she just yells at me in Spanish.”

I like to think I look out for my mom, after divorce number three, Don, the lawyer, it’s been just the two of us. Who else would look out for her well being if not me?

“Oh, mom, here, don’t forget your juice.” I called to her, maneuvering around the kitchen- island to grab the cup full of the veggie drink. She made a face at me, refusing to take it. We go through this practically every morning.

“I’m not drinking that, Buffy. It tastes like blended mulch.”

“It’s healthy blended mulch. It’ll help with your vitamin E levels and Doctor Browning says…”

“I know what Doctor Browning said. I’m not drinking it. Where’s my briefcase? Rosa!”

“It’s in the den where you left it.”

“Thank you honey.” She smiled, kissing me on the cheek. “Now, I gotta go or I’m going to be late…oh, Buffy, I almost forgot! Spike’s in town and he’s coming for dinner tonight.”

“Why?!” The last thing I need is to have to put up with him.

“Because, he’s your stepbrother.”

“Ex-stepbrother! That was like, five years ago and you were barely married to his dad for three minutes! Shouldn’t he have some new family to terrorize by now?”

“You divorce husbands, not children.”

I sighed loudly, withering under her stern, mom look. There’s just no way I can compete with that mom look. “Here.” I said, making one last attempt to give her the cup of ‘blended mulch’.

“Uh-uh.” Was the reply I got as she breezed out of the kitchen and through the front door.

*************************************************************

Sunnydale High is your typical high school, as in completely divided into tiny little nations, also known as cliques. Cordelia and I belong to the more popular crowd. Oh, Cordy has been my best friend ever since junior high school. We kind of bonded over the fact people were jealous of us and have been virtually joined at the hip ever since.

“Ugh! It’s not even eight-thirty and Xander’s already paging me! He’s so damn possessive, just this weekend he called me up asking me where I was, when I specifically told him I was going to my dad’s…”

Cordy and her boyfriend Xander have one of those overly dramatic, Dawson’s Creek like, teenage romances. Deep down, they really care about each other, but you’d never know that since they practically fight every hour on the hour. I’m starting to think that they took a page out of my parent’s guide to relationships.

“Why do you put up with him?” I said, shaking my head at her as we continued our walk to the quad. Now, don’t get me wrong, I like Xand. He’s a great guy and good for her, but one has to appease Cordelia Chase every now and again, that’s the key to sustaining a friendship with her.

“I don’t know…” She sighed. “I could do so much better, oh wait, here he comes now.”

“Cordy, why haven’t you answered any of my pages?! Where have you been all weekend?!”

“I told you! Speaking of our weekend whereabouts, your mom told me that you went out to the Bronze, with Harmony!”

Oh great, another Ike and Tina showdown. I adjust my backpack, easing away from the two of them, this is a brand new outfit and I don’t want to get any blood on it.

“I’ll see you later, Cordy.” I called, heading off towards the main entrance.

“Bye, Buffy! I’ve so had it with you, Xander Harris.”

*************************************************************


Most people have one subject in school they’re great at, like your math or your science. I Buffy Summers am great at one thing, and one thing only…napping.

There’s a certain technique you’ve got to have to get a good amount of sleep in a classroom. Those cold, hard desks they give us, don’t exactly make the best pillows, but if you lay your head just right, you can get a peaceful hour’s sleep and not even wake up with those ugly lines.

“Buffy…Buffy….Ms. Summers!”

Of course there are always those teachers who would rather you get an A in their class instead of in napping. Waking up to the cold, hard stare of my British Literature teacher, Mr. Giles can be just as big of a jolt as three cans of Red Bull.

“Aw, Ms. Summers, so nice of you to join us this morning. Please, um, tell us, what is the setting for Wuthering Heights?”

“Um…New Jersey?”

Mr. Giles nodded his head at me in that sarcastic, British way of his, removing his glasses. Yeah okay, I know, stupid answer, but it’s like nine in the morning and I’m still a little groggy…

“Thank you, Ms. Summers. And with that lovely note, I’m going to distribute your report cards. Is there an Owen Thurman in this class?”

“Uh, Mr. Giles, the word on Owen is that his parents have joint custody, so he’ll be spending one semester here and the other in Philadelphia.”

“Thank you, uh, Harmony. Now, could all talking please come to a halt, and could the suicide attempts please be postponed until next period…sit down Mr. Jenkins.”

After Mr. Giles stopped Andy Jenkins from doing a swan dive out of the second story window, he gingerly placed the report card in my hand, moving on quickly, calling out the names in alphabetical order.

Suddenly, a very dark cloud settled over first period.

Shit.

***************************************************

“That troll gave me a D! A, D! Cordy, I’ve never had a D in my life!”

“It’s still better than my D minus.”

“What is it with Mr. Giles?! Does he enjoy my pain?!”

“He’s British.” Cordy shrugged. “Who knows.”

“My mom’s going to kill me, this drags my whole average down!”

Maybe I should take Andy’s lead and find a window or a flight of stairs to hurl myself down.


***************************************************

That damn D in British Literature, pretty much killed my entire day, but the sound of the Sex Pistols pouring out of the kitchen, buried it. Spike is here. Oh, joy.

I guess I should fill you in on all things annoying ex-stepbrother related. My mom took one of her buying trips to London back in 99’ and came back with a new daddy and an irritating older brother for her only child. The marriage didn’t last so long, but for some reason Spike kept hanging around, I guess he could never fully comprehend the meaning of ‘divorce’. And don’t even ask me where he got that ridiculous nickname from…

“All black? Didn’t you get the memo, the Goth look died out in 97.” I smirked at him as I walked into the kitchen.

Come to think of it, I’ve never seen him in another color besides black. The only things that stand out about William ‘Spike’ Douglas would be his platinum blonde curly hair, mile high cheekbones, and piercing ice blue eyes…not that I ever pay them any attention…

“Buffy, didn’t expect you home so early, what happened luv, no sales at the Gap today?”

“Ha, ha. Don’t you have some other family to stalk?”

“Nope.” He grinned at me, snatching an apple out of the fridge. “I went by mum’s gallery.”

“She’s not your ‘mum’.”

“And…she told me to tell you, she didn’t forget it was report card day.” He gave me that grin of his again, that mocking gleeful one, the one that said he knew I was in a shitload of trouble, and he was going to enjoy watching every minute of it.

I groaned loudly as I followed him out of the kitchen and into the den, flopping down in a heap on the couch. This day just keeps getting better and better…

“What’s the matter, pet?” He smiled, taking another bite out of his apple. “Grades not up to par?”

“No, it’s just, my report card’s not ready yet.”

Spike scoffed, snatching the remote out of my hands, turning the channel to CNN. Told you he was annoying…

“What do you mean they’re not ready…”

“Well…you remember Don don’t you…?”

“Mmm, the third husband, lawyer right?”

“Yeah, well, if there’s one thing Don taught me, it was never to accept a first offer. These grades are like…the start of negotiations.”

Spike rolled his eyes at me, chuckling a bit. “You are bloody unbelievable. What makes you think you can deal your way to better grades?”

“Only the fact that I’ve done it every semester since ninth grade.” I grinned, snatching the remote back, flipping it to MTV. I am not about to miss TRL just because he wants to hear about Middle East peace agreements.




___________

CHAPTER 2:



I consider myself a genuinely pleasant person, charming if you will, and that same positive image of me has always been held by my teachers, that is until Mr. Giles came along.

“Ms. Summers, you rarely turn in homework, your test grades are extremely poor, you spend more time snoring in this class than you do paying attention to the lectures, and you told me Emily Bronte’s classic novel was set in ‘New Jersey’. Why in god’s name would I ever consider changing your grade?”

So, Mr. Giles was going to be a hard egg to crack, but something told me not to give up on him. Something was severely lacking from my dear literature teacher, and I figured it was up to me to find that bug up his ass and squash it.

“Now, if you’re quite done wasting my time, Ms. Summers, I have lesson plans to work on.” As Mr. Giles put his hand on my shoulder, shoving me towards the door, his lack of a wedding ring particularly caught my eye.

“Are you married, Mr. Giles?”

“No, Ms. Summers.” He sighed. “I am not married.”

Why am I not surprised.

“Then you must have a girlfriend, I mean, someone as smart and ruggedly handsome as yourself surely isn’t single…”

“Actually, my ‘ruggedly handsome’ self as you put it, is very single.”

Bingo! No wonder he’s so mean and bitter, he’s spending way too much time with tea and crumpets, and not getting any smoochies.

“Now, good day, Ms. Summers.”

****************************************************

“So how did the grade switching go?” Cordelia asked, slicing up her veggie pizza, if you cut it into smaller portions, it equals fewer calories. It was officially noon, and we had all converged in the quad for lunch, take-out of course, no one would be caught dead eating the poison in the cafeteria.

“Five and one.” I mumbled, taking a sip of my diet coke. “Mr. Giles can be a very uncompromising man.”

“Just forget him, Buffy. He’s a miserable little man in tweed who wants to make everyone else around him miserable.”

“See, I thought that too, but, I’ll have you know our Mr. Giles is single…”

Cordelia snickered, taking a tiny bite of her food. “Not the biggest shock in the world.” She looked up at me, her face dropping a bit, she knew the look in my eyes very well and it always scared her death. “Oh no, I can see the wheels turning in head…”

“What that man needs is some good old fashioned slap and tickle.”

“God, Buffy! I can do without the imagery, okay?!”

“What?” I shrugged. “It’s true. He’s sort of good looking for an old guy, and I bet if he had a woman to irritate, he would spend less time irritating his students.”

“You could be right, but where are you going to find a woman brave enough to put up with him for more than two seconds.” Cordy grinned at me. “Hey, how about your mom?”

“No! She’s finally gotten to that, independent, menopause stage of womanhood, where she thinks she doesn’t need a man to complete her. I like that stage, we’re not leaving it.”

“Well, where else are you going to find a woman around his age?”

Cordy was right, my mom aside, there were no real women around. Most of the female teachers at Sunnydale were mutants and I don’t hate Mr. Giles enough to do that to him. Then, like a sign from the heavens, came my answer, wearing a very cute mini-skirt I might add.

“Hi, my name is Ms. Calendar, I’m new here, and I was wondering if you could tell me where the computer lab is?”

“Sure.” I smiled brightly. “It’s right up the stairs on the second floor, first room to your left. You must be substituting for Mr. Jacee?”

“Right.” She chuckled nervously. “Thanks for your help.”

“No problem.”

Perfect.

***************************************************************

I spent the next few weeks making some keen observations. Any time Mr. Giles and Ms. Calendar, who was now Sunnydale’s new computer science teacher (Mr. Jacee was never found for some reason…), where around each other, it was like an adorable comedy of errors. Sparks were flying everywhere, but nothing was happening. I couldn’t very well stand by and not do anything about it, what kind of person would I be if I didn’t give them that extra push towards bliss.

“…My soul’s long lacked food, my heaven’s bliss. Leaves, lines, and rhymes, seek her to please alone, Whom if ye please, I care for other none.” Cordelia beamed at me as she re-folded the letter, tucking it carefully amidst the stacks of papers on Ms. Calendar’s desk.

“God, Buffy, that’s beautiful! Did you write that?”

I gave Cordy the ‘duh’ look, shaking my head. I love her to death, but she can be so incredibly dense sometimes.

“No, brain-trust. It’s like a famous sonnet.”

“Oh, who wrote it?”

“I don’t know, it was the first thing I saw when I opened my literature book.”

************************************************************

“Hey, I was watching that!”

I rolled my eyes at Spike, throwing his legs aside so I could flop down on the couch next to him. Already the freeloading has started and he hasn’t even been in town that long.

“Sorry, Kato, didn’t mean to disturb, but you are reading a book…”

“And listening to the news at the same time, I’m sodding gifted that way.” He mumbled turning the page in his book.

“Whatcha reading? Pretend I care.”

“War and Peace.”

“For fun?!”

He laughed, looking up at me for a moment. Here’s one of the only good things about Spikey, his eyes sparkle when he laughs, which is rare, but it’s almost worth catching when it does happen.

“No, you silly bint, for class. No one reads War and Peace for fun.” He closed his book, setting it down on the end table, then looked at his watch, climbing to his feet.

“Where are you going? Again, pretend I care.”

“I’ve got a PETA meeting, we’re going to stand outside of McDonalds and hand out pamphlets to the customers as they come out…”

“Wow, sounds like big fun.”

“We’re trying to make a difference, a contribution to this community, of course, I bloody well wouldn’t expect you to understand that…”

“Excuse me, but I have donated many expensive Italian outfits to the Salvation Army every other Christmas….”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“And, I always break for animals. Plus, I’m devoting my time to helping my lonely literature teacher find romance.”

“Right.” Spike nodded, grinning in that mocking way of his. “And I bet it serves you more than it does him.”

“That is so not…entirely true.” I mumbled, my head hanging a bit.

“I’d die of bloody shock if I ever saw you doing something that wasn’t ninety-seven percent selfish.” He shook his head at me, in that disapproving fatherly kind of way. I hate it when he does that! Just because he’s mister college junior and I’m a lowly high school senior, doesn’t mean he’s better or smarter than me! And I am not selfish!

“You promise!” I called after him as he walked out of the door. Childish yes, but sometimes it’s hard to think of a snappy comeback when you’re angry.




Chapter 3:


" My soul’s long lacked food, my heavens bliss. Leaves, lines, and rhymes. Seek her to please alone, Whom if ye please, I care for other none."

"Spenser." Mr. Giles smiled as he continued over to Ms. Calendar, they both looked so nervous, it was adorable.

"I know." Ms. Calendar said softly, folding the note.

"It’s uh, a very beautiful sonnet."

"Yes, it’s one of my favorites."

One of her favorites?! I had no clue, how good am I?!

"I was…

-"Would you like…" They both said at the same time, breaking into that nervous laughter of theirs.

"You first." He chuckled.

"Would you maybe…like to grab dinner sometime?"

"Yes, I would like that very much."

I could hardly contain my squeal as Mr. Giles walked out of the computer lab. I quickly backed away from the door, the last thing I need is to get caught eavesdropping on two teachers conversation.

"Good morning, Mr. Giles." I gave him my best brown-noser voice, flashing him the pearly whites.

"Oh, good morning, Buffy."

Was that, dare I say, a smile? A smile from Mr. Giles without one ounce of sarcasm and disdain in his voice?!

Oh yeah, I’m good.

****************************************************

My success with Mr. Giles, left me on cloud nine and with a brand new desire to offer my services to others (who says I’m selfish), and my next bit of charity came in the form of Willow Rosenberg.

I was sitting in third period History, yawing widely, getting ready to sharpen my napping skills, when Principal Snyder interrupted Mrs. Johnson’s riveting lecture.

"We have a new student, her name is Willow Rosenberg…"

Stepping meekly into the classroom, was a small, bookish looking girl, with waist-length red hair. There was something instantly sweet about her, even though she seemed utterly terrified and out of place, and what was the deal with those clothes?

"Willow, why don’t you find an empty desk and have a seat."

I waved her over to the desk next to me. Riley Finn usually occupied it but since he had neglected to show up today, I figured his loss and Willow’s gain.

She smiled at me as she sat down, looking completely relieved when I scooted my desk close to hers, sharing my book with her.

"Thanks."

"No big. I’m Buffy, by the way."

"Willow."

********************************************************

"…And this is the quad, everyone who’s anyone hangs here, so you’ll want to be seen in this spot at all of the appropriate times."

Willow nodded fiercely, paying close attention. "What are the appropriate times again?"

"Morning, lunch, and after school." I counted them off on my hand as I eased her over towards the group. "Guys, hey guys, this is Willow."

Willow blushed, shyly waving. I had to admit, I already liked this girl a lot.

"Willow this is, Cordelia, that’s her boyfriend, Xander, that’s Scott, Anya, Hallie, Dru, Parker, Graham, that’s Forrest, and the one that’s MIA today is Riley."

I could tell Cordy was giving me that look, you know, that look that said I had gone completely insane. She flew up by my side like lightening, knocking poor Will to the side.

"Hi, it’s nice to meet you…Buffy, can I speak with you in private please."

"Sure, Willow, why don’t you have a seat, make yourself comfortable…ow!" Cordelia put the death grip on my arm, practically dragging me away.

"Were you dropped on your head as a baby?!" She glared at me, finally releasing my arm.

"What?"

"Look at her, Buffy! Do you have any idea what damage you could do to our reputations by being seen with that girl…"

"You know, you can be a snob and a half. Don’t you want to use your popularity for good?"

"Not really."

"Oh come on! She’s nice, sweet, and so adorably clueless…I’ve got this mother bird instinct to take her under my wing."

****************************************************

"Buffy, I don’t know about this…"

"It’ll be fine, don’t you trust me?" I put my hand on Willow’s shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile in the mirror.

"Well…I’ve only known you for a week."

Cordy sighed heavily, playing with he scissors in her hand. "Are we doing this or not?"

"We’re doing it. Now, Willow, just take a deep breath, close your eyes, and it’ll all be over in a second."

Poor Will looked even more pale as she nodded her head, tightly shutting her eyes as Cordy gripped her ponytail, bringing the scissors closer to her hair. Willow reached out for my hand, holding onto it for dear life as the cutting started.

"All done." Cordelia grinned, holding up the now detached ponytail.

Six painstaking hours of hair, makeup, and wardrobe, Willow’s makeover was complete. You’d never guess the sultry thing staring back at us in the mirror was the same plain girl who waltzed into class five days earlier, looking like the Sears clearance bin had exploded on her.

She was gorgeous, now the only problem was keeping her from covering herself up.

"It’s the new you."

"The new me." She laughed a little, trying hard to cover her bare midriff with her arms. "There’s a lotta new me."

"You look great. I think she’s ready for the Bronze, Buffy what do you think?"

"Definitely Bronze material."

"What’s a Bronze?" Willow asked, tugging self consciously at her shirt.

"It’s the only club in Sunnydale worth going to…"

"That’s because it’s the only club in Sunnydale." I said, rolling my eyes at Cordy. "Still, it’s not a bad place and pretty much everyone hangs out there."

"Oh. Still guys, I don’t think I’m club material…"

"Nonsense, you just need a male opinion. Spike!" I called, poking my head out of my bedroom door. "Get your bleached, bony-ass up here!"

I could hear his out-of-style combat boots, bounding up the stairs, and before long Spikey was standing in my doorway, glaring at me.

"You rang, mental giant." He said smugly, folding his arms in front of him. I made a face at him, sighing loudly. I hate calling on him for anything, but as the only one in this house with a Y chromosome, I needed his opinion.

"Willow, this is the ex, Spike, Spike this is Willow."

"Nice to meet you Willow." He flashed her his charming smile, then quickly turned his attention to me again, the smile completely disappearing. "Now, what the bloody hell do you want?"

"Nice to meet you. Ex? Are you Buffy’s ex-boyfriend or something?"

I burst into laughter, I couldn’t help it really, I mean, Spike, my ex boyfriend. Just saying that sentence in my mind makes me want to laugh harder. My sides are beginning to hurt, as my giggle fest finally dies down.

"God no! He’s my ex-stepbrother."

"I’ll repeat it for you, you annoying cow, what the bloody hell do you want?"

I sighed, letting the few laughs I had left come out before answering. "We needed a man’s opinion, and you’re the next best thing so…"

"So…what?" He glared, wow, he was really irritable today.

"So, could you please tell Willow here, what a hottie she is and how she’ll be the best looking girl at the Bronze tonight."

His features softened as he looked at Willow, letting a playful smile form on his lips.

"You look very beautiful, bloke’s will be lined up half way around the block just to get a dance with you."

Willow smiled and he smiled, and there was this whole really big smiling thing going on between them. I don’t get it! He never smiles at me like that, I mean, not that I want him to or anything, it would just be nice not to get smug asshole Spike all the time.

***********************************************************

"Cordy and I will be by to pick you up at around nine…"

"Okay." Willow nodded as I walked her to the door.

"Don’t worry." I smiled. "Tonight’s going to be great."

After Willow left, I was in the midst of giving myself inner congratulations on a job well done, when I caught his look. That disapproving, fatherly look Spike does so well…

"What?" I asked, heading towards the kitchen for a quick glass of water.

"You amaze me."

I flashed him a smile as I pulled my bottle of water out of the fridge. "Really? How?"

"Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that you could find someone even more dense than yourself, to worship you like some high priestess."

"I’m doing Willow a favor! Devoting my time and energy…"

"To playing bloody dress up with her as if she were one of your sodding Barbie dolls!"

"No, to rescuing her! She’s going to be beautiful, confident, and popular! She’s going to go through life feeling much better about herself because of me. It’s down right generous what I’m doing if you ask me."

"Right." Spike said, giving me a smug grin, god I hate those. "You’re the ruddy Mother Theresa of Southern California."




Chapter 4:


The Bronze was the usual crowded hormone factory it always is, and Willow clung desperately to me as the three of us made it through the crowd.

"Will, you’re going to leave claw marks in my arm if you don’t let it go." I smiled at her. Gee, we’re really going to have to work on this confidence thing.

"Sorry."

I could tell right away, that Willow’s physical makeover was having the desired affect. She was clearly getting the eye from some of the guys, and rightly so, Will’s a bombshell, and the second she realizes that, there’s no stopping her.

The rest of the gang were waiting at our usual table (off in the corner, next to the dance floor), I wish I had a camera…their looks were priceless.

"Cordy, Buff, who’s the friend?" Xander said, practically jumping to his feet. He motioned Willow towards his chair, leering at her the whole time with that goofy grin of his.

"You remember Willow, don’t you Xand?"

"Will-Willow?!"

Xand looked totally shocked, of course that look was replaced with one of pain the moment Cordelia slapped him in the back of the head.

"Ow!"

"Eyes back in your head, Xander."

****************************************************************

"I’m gonna get another coke, you guy’s want anything?"

"Nope."

"No, I’m good."

I felt like squealing again as I watched Willow scamper off towards the bar, and I turned to Cordy, who was echoing my happiness.

"Okay…" She began, rolling her eyes at me as she smiled. "She grows on you."

"I knew you’d like her."

"Oh yeah, as long as she keeps her newly manicured mitts off of Xander, we’ll be bestest friends." Cordelia said, turning to glare at her boyfriend, who was still ogling Will from a distance. "Harris, eyes on me or you’ll never use an urinal again."

"Cordy…did, did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight, baby?"

"Mmm-hmm…"

"But then again, you always look beautiful…"

"Shut up, Xander."

I should have known when Cordy and Xander began yet another ‘lovers quarrel’, that, things were going to go downhill fast. A monkey wrench was thrown into all of my plans sending me scrambling to recover the reputation I was quickly building for Will.

A monkey wrench with a bass guitar and Technicolor hair…

"Guys!" Willow squealed happily, as she sat down. "You’ll never believe the cool guy I just met!"

*****************************************************************************

Finding Spike stretched out on our couch with the contents of the refrigerator all around him was quickly becoming an irritating norm in the Summers home.

"How was the Bronze?" He mumbled, flipping the channel on the TV.

"It was…Bronze like. You know, I thought the whole point of college was to get away from home."

"Actually, the point of college is to learn…"

"You know what I mean, smart ass."

He chuckled, sitting up. "I’ll be outta your hair, princess, as soon as my things arrive from New York. I’m not living in a dorm you know, bloke’s gotta have bed."

"Oh, I don’t know, you seem to have no problem bumming it on our couch." I smirked. "Scootch over.

So, what do you think of Willow?"

Okay, I know, stupid little girl question, but that whole smiling thing between them earlier left me a little more disturbed than I would have liked. I don’t want Spike pawing all over my friends…it’s creepy.

"What do you mean, what do I think of her? I don’t know the girl."

"Yeah, but you conducted yourself like human being around her."

"I have my human moments."

"How come I never get that side of you? A total stranger, you’re civil to, but me, who’s known you since before you started dying your hair…"

"Being civil now, aren’t I?" He smirked, poking me in the side with his index finger, effectively making me jump. Back when our parents were married, Spike discovered the embarrassing secret that I’m extremely ticklish and he’s been relentless with it ever since.

"Don’t…" I warned scooting away, but he was giving me that look, you know, the look that the lions on the Discovery Channel get right before it rips open the throat of a Zebra.

"Don’t what?" He grinned, this time grabbing my side with his whole hand, digging his fingers deep tickling me harder.

"Spike! Spike, stop!"

"Stop what?" He laughed, the evil laugh, straddling my waist like a little boy, as he held me down, his fingers hitting all of my target spots; my stomach, my ribs, reaching around to grab my thigh. I hate it when he does this, I’m laughing so hard I can barely breathe and he’s too strong to push off…

"Come on! Stop it…!"

"Say it."

"Spike…come on…!"

"What’s the magic phrase, luv?"

"Fuck you!"

"Such language, Buffy. Come on, I’m not letting you up until you say it."

God I hate him.

"Fuzzy ducky, ducky fuzz…!" I shouted in between laughter. Crap, I can’t remember the rest…

"That’s not the whole thing, pet."

"I can’t remember! Come on, Spike, get off of me!"

Finally, he stopped the assault, laughing like a mad man as he hovered over me. I took a moment from laughing so damn hard, and actually noticed his eyes (one of my rare moments), they were the deepest blue I had ever seen, it would have been almost nice if he wasn’t such a tool.

"You bastard."

"Conceited wench."

You know insults don’t really carry as much weight when you say them with a snort and a giggle.

That’s different, the look he’s giving me now is one I’ve never seen before. It almost equals the human smile he gave Willow earlier that evening, only…softer.

"Plan on letting me up any time soon, big brother?"

"Oh! Right, sorry." He mumbled, clumsily getting off me, allowing me to sit up. I frantically tugged at my dress, which was riding pretty high at this point. Suddenly, being around Spike wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world…

***************************************************************

"Buffy, my foot’s falling asleep, how much longer…"

"I’m almost done Willow, jeez, do you think that Mona Lisa chick complained about her foot falling asleep while she was posing for DiCaprio?"

"Da Vinci."

"Whatever. Keep still."

In my rush to find happiness for Mr. Giles and acceptance and popularity for Willow, I had completely forgotten about my art project for Mrs. Ross’ class. After digging through the prop room in the drama building, and getting Will to agree to be a last minute subject, we hauled ass to the art room where we’ve spent the better part of the early morning, toiling away.

"I knew I’d find you here."

"Oh, hey Riley." I said absently, putting the finishing touches on the painting. Riley Finn’s one of those jock types, our faithful, good-natured quarterback, but dumb as a post. He’s sorta good-looking I guess, but a little to grabby for my taste.

"That’s really beautiful, Buffy." He smiled, inching closer to me as he watched me work. "You’re quite the artist."

"Thanks. Having a good subject can bring the best out of you." I said, sending a quick look to Willow. "You remember Willow, don’t you?"

"Yeah, hi, Willow."

"Hi."

"Will, stop moving."

As I was finishing up, it dawned on me. Riley was completely single now, and I needed someone, anyone to take Will’s mind off of that guy Oz she met at the Bronze (you know, one of those slacker types who rarely show up to class and who aren’t in the right social bracket…). Riley’s perfect for her! He may be a little boring, but he’s got social standing, Will’s stock at Sunnydale would skyrocket if she’s dating the fricken quarterback of the football team…

"Isn’t she like one of those classic beauty’s?" I whispered to him.

"If you say so."

I could feel his hand snaking up my back, and I quickly shrugged him off, told you Riley was grabby.

"Hey, do you think I could have this?"

"You want the painting?"

"Well, I’m never one to pass up great art."

"Then…it’s your’s."

Perfect.

"Buffy, I’m getting those sleepy tingles…"

"Keep still, Willow."



Chapter 5:


I stared at the flyer in my hand intensely, almost expecting it to catch on fire. For one, I really didn’t like the way Willow went all glowly and giggly when Oz ‘just happened’ to come up to us during the transition from first period to second.

"Hey Buffy." He smiled. "What was the homework last night for Mr. Mullins?"

"I’ve got Giles." I said, rolling my eyes. Could he be more obvious?

"Oh, hey Willow."


"Hey."

The only thing I could do was shake my head and try and drag Will off into the other direction, but Oz was on our heels like one of those police dogs that smell the joint in your pocket.

"My band’s playing at this party tonight, you should come." He smiled, shoving a flyer in her hand before finally leaving. Willow stared at that piece of paper as if it were the Holy Grail, making me most uncomfortable. How the hell am I supposed to make her sublimely happy if she keeps screwing it up?!

"Ooh, a party! We should go, Buffy."

"Look..." I began, taking the flyer out of her hand. "It’s in the bad part of town…"

"There’s a bad part of town?"

"And the cops break these things up before they even get off the ground, it would be a waste of a good outfit."

"But, I really want to see Oz play." She beamed, it was enough to make me want to throw up the low-fat, sugar-free bagel I had for breakfast. "He’s an amazing bassist, and…"

"Will, I thought we talked about this Oz thing."

"We did…"

"You know, you could have any guy in this school that you wanted. Even…Riley Finn." I grinned.

"Riley?"

"Yup. He’s been checking you out lately, and that painting of you I did for art class, he’s got it hanging above his bed."

"Shut up!" Willow squealed, hitting me in the arm.

"It’s true." I smiled. "And, he was very happy to learn that you’re completely single…"

Okay, that was a complete lie, but sometimes you’ve gotta lie. Lies can be a necessary tool for the betterment of those around you, hey, that should be like a ‘Chicken Soup For the Soul’ quote or something.

***************************************************************

With the human trash compactor now in his new apartment, I felt it was safe to have Will come over for dinner, you know, this way she might actually get something to eat.

"Thanks, Rosa, it looks great." I was practically starving, and the heaping plate of fettuccini alfreado, (low calorie cheese sauce of course) was calling to me.

"Hey mom, you remember Willow, right?"

"Of course, how are you Willow?"

"I’m good Ms. Summers."

Just as I was about to dig in, my cell went off, it’s probably Cordy, she always seems to call when I’m in the middle of dinner.

"Buffy…"

"I know, no phone calls during dinner, but it’s Cordy, it could be important. She could be having a ‘Seventeen’ like moment that requires the support of a best friend. What if she’s pregnant or someone’s offering her a joint or…"

"Oh, just answer the phone!" She sighed, rolling her eyes. Hehe, that one works every time.

"Hey Cordy."

Apparently, the whole gang had decided to make a cameo at that party tonight. With Riley scheduled to make an appearance, and Oz due on stage for most of the night, I figured it was safe to bring Will. I could single handedly keep her as far away from Oz as possible and work on easing her towards Mr. Finn.

**************************************************************

"You should make sure Riley sees you, but don’t be obvious with it, look like you’re having fun, and talk to other guys and stuff, but make sure Riley’s in seeing distance…"

Willow nodded fiercely, soaking up all of the guy knowledge Cordy and I were giving her as we made our way inside.

"And when you do talk to Riley, laugh at all of his jokes, even though they’ll more than likely suck, guys like that."

"Cordelia, you never laugh at my jokes."

"Sure I do honey, just not with you." Cordy said, giving Xander a look. "Anyway, Willow, relax, you’re gonna do great."

************************************************************

Okay, I have to tell you, I hate house parties with a passion! It’s always so cramped, and there’s always an undisclosed amount of illegal substances floating around, not that I’m not one for the occasional drink, I just don’t like having to brush off those who are fried beyond belief.

Willow and I were making the rounds while Cordy and Xander were off somewhere having another fight, this time about why she refuses to laugh at his jokes, when before I knew it, my brand new two-hundred dollar satin pumps were covered in Zima.

"Sorry, I’m very sorry." Oz mumbled, shaking his head. "I thought you guys could use a drink and…"

"Yeah, well my shoes weren’t very thirsty."

"I’ll make it up to you."

"Don’t bother." I muttered under my breath.

"So, you guy’s having a good time?"

"Oh yeah." Willow nodded. "I can’t wait until you guys play."

"We’re in the middle of the long process of setting up, but I snuck away to grab you a drink…"

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Riley who was staring rather intensely in our direction. I know that look, no boy can hide that look, and I quickly nudged Will with my elbow and whispered. "Riley’s staring at you, quick, pretend like Oz just said something funny."

Willow begun to laugh almost uncontrollably, getting a dear in headlights look from Oz. God, I told her to laugh, not fake a seizure.

"Are, are okay?" He asked, handing me the now half- full cup of alcohol.

"I’m fine." Willow said meekly, hanging her head down in embarrassment. I gave her a sympathetic smile, suddenly feeling two arms wrap around my waist.

"Oh, hey, Riley."

"Hey, Oz. The guys are looking for ya."

"Crap, I better get back, they get pissed when I shirk my responsibilities." He smiled at Will. "I see you later."

"Uh, Riley, what’s with the sudden show of affection?" His big arms squeezing the life out of me, was making me most uncomfortable, especially in front of Willow.

"I just wanted the beer." He smiled, easing the cup out of my hands, finally letting me go.

"It’s Zima."

"Whatever. How ‘bout a dance?"

"Sorry, I’ve got a shoe emergency I’ve got to take care of, but I’m sure Willow would love to dance." I smiled, devilishly inching Will closer towards him.

Riley shrugged, taking another sip before handing me back the cup, grabbing Willow’s hand.

"You game?" He smiled as Will nodded in response, dragging her away.

My heart was swelling with pride as I watched Riley and Will out on the dance floor, it’s so great to see love just blossom right before your eyes like that. Even though I’m alone, I was really happy for her. I think doing all of these good deeds is slowly making me a better person.

**************************************************************

Will and I decided to leave the party kind of early, opting to get rides from other people, seeing as how Cordy and Xand were busy ‘making up’ in one of the upstairs bedrooms. As much as I tried, Will ended up riding home with Anya, Riley seemed to have every excuse in the book for why I should be the one to ride with him instead of Will. There’s only so much of that boy I could take and after much arguing, I finally said ‘Screw it’ and climbed into his car, besides, I can take this opportunity to talk his ear off about Willow.

"Will’s pretty great, isn’t she?"

"She’s okay I guess."

That’s Riley Finn for you, man of a thousand words…

"Didn’t she look cute tonight…"

"Yeah, sure, listen Buffy, we’ve been friends for a long time, right?"

"Yeah…"

"And as a friend, you saw how hard my breakup with Dana was…"

"Sure, but Dana was so completely wrong for you."

"I know." He smiled at me.

"I want to see you happy, Riley. The perfect girl is right in front of you and the sooner you realize that, the sooner…"

"I knew it." He grinned, shaking his head, suddenly pulling the car over on the side of the road. What the hell is he doing?

"What are you do…" The words made it half way out of my mouth before brutally being cut off by Riley’s tongue. His disgusting hands were all over me, snaking up my thighs, heading under my dress. I was so caught off card that it took a while to make the appropriate reaction, finally I pushed him off of me, giving him a good punch in the nose.

"You bitch!" He screamed, clutching his poor nose as blood began to pour out of it.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?!"

"Come on, Buffy, isn’t it obvious! ‘The perfect girl, right in front of me’, you can’t be that stupid!"

"I was talking about Willow!"

"Willow?! Why would I want Willow?!

Oh god, this is not happening. All of the sly groping, the looks…I was the one Riley had a thing for! Christ, how could I have been so stupid?!

"Why wouldn’t you want Willow?! She’s smart, she’s beautiful…plus, you have that painting I did of her above your bed."

"I have the painting you painted of her above my bed." He picked up a few stray napkins that were lying around, and begun to clean up the blood, lunging at me again once he finished.

"Come on, Buffy…"

"Stop it!" I screamed, throwing him off again. I quickly unbuckled my seat belt, wasting no time climbing out of the car. I can’t believe this is happening…

"Buffy, Buffy what are you doing?!"

"Go away!"

"Look, stop acting like a kid, okay, and get back in the car and I’ll take you home."

"I’d rather walk!"

"Fine! Your loss, bitch!"

The tires squealed loudly as he drove off, leaving a burning rubber smell behind. What was I thinking?! I should have just gotten back in the car and maced his ass if he tried anything else. Cordy’s cell was dead at the moment, and I didn’t know the number of the party so I couldn’t call. It was late, nearly two in the morning, and mom would fucking kill me if I called, seeing as how my curfew was twelve thirty. I dug my cell phone out reluctantly, along with the piece of paper I had scribbled his number down on. I really didn’t want to call him, but I had no other choice.

"Hello." Spike answered, sounding frustrated, he must’ve known it was me.

"Spike, buddy, how’s everything?"

"What the bloody hell do you want…"

"Listen, I was on my way home from this party, when I sexually harassed by my designated driver. I can’t call mom, and I don’t have any money for a cab…"

He sighed loudly into the phone. "Are you okay?"

"I’m fine, I just need a ride."

"Bloody hell…" He mumbled, sighing again. "Alright, where are you?"

********************************************************************

Spike has the worst taste in women, take the boring little blonde thing sitting in the front seat, Darla. She’s the type of pseudo-intellectual college chick, who still wears Birkenstocks and mourns the loss of the Lilith Fair. I sighed loudly, slumping down in my seat. Their riveting conversation plus the alcohol in my system was quickly acting as a sleep-aid.

"Spike, how could you say that?! Baily has a total misogynist point of few…"

"I’m just saying, maybe you should hear him out before coming to that conclusion. I don’t think his lecture was meant to be misogynist…"

"I know the man fancies himself some type of stoic hero, like Rand’s Peter Keating, but his points were un-researched and biased towards women, and this is the man who’s teaching us?"

Finally, we pulled up in front of Darla’s apartment, thank God, if I had to listen to any more of this I’d slip into a coma.

"I’m gonna walk Darla to her door."

"Take your time." I smirked, rolling my eyes.

The moment they were gone, I climbed up to the front, situating myself in the passenger seat. A very evil part of me was screaming to take the car and run, interrupting their make-out session, plus it would be kinda funny to watch Spike chase me down the street, but I quickly squashed that idea. I was way too tired, and like I said, their mini-make-out session in front of her door had left me with the overwhelming desire to shut my eyes and pray till it was over.

"What could you possibly see in her?" I yawned loudly, as we drove away. Man, I was getting sleepy…

"She’s nice, she’s beautiful, she’s smart…what, those qualities not to your liking?"

"She’s not that smart." I huffed.

"What makes you say that, luv?"

"Well…" I yawned. "For starters, anyone with half a brain would know that the school- girl look, is so last year…"

"Typical." Spike muttered, shaking his head.

"Plus, Rand’s ‘stoic hero’ as she put it, was Roark, not Keating." Spike got that same deer in headlights look Oz did when Will started laughing like a mad woman, turning to me, a warm smile crept across his face.

What? Is it so surprising I read something other than Cosmo every once in a while?

************************************************************

"Morning, luv."

I sat up quickly, feeling a major cramp in the back of my neck. This morning already was not off to the greatest start. I sighed, running a hand through my bed hair, or couch hair as the case may be…why am I in Spike’s apartment…?

"What am I…"

"You passed out in the car, completely dead to the world. I didn’t want to wake up mum and get you in trouble…"

"She’s not your ‘mum’."

"So, I brought you here instead. Don’t worry, I called mum…"

"She’s not your…"


"And told her what happened."

"The complete and total un-true version of what happened, right?"

"Naturally." He grinned. He backed away from the couch, allowing me the room to swing my legs over to the side, slowly climbing to my feet. That’s funny, I don’t remember wearing a big Green Day T-shirt to the party…

"Your clothes are in my room." Spike smiled at me knowingly. "Don’t worry, I didn’t peek."

"Good." I smiled playfully, sucking on my bottom lip. "Probably the closest you’ve been to a woman in years."

He laughed, giving me this look. You know, I think I should start documenting the different looks I’ve been getting from Spike since he moved back to Sunnydale. The only one I’m use to is the hate filled stare…

I ran a hand through my hair again, smiling back, as I moved passed him, heading towards the kitchen.

"If you touch my sodding Lucky Charms…"

"You’ll what, Big Bad?" I said in my innocent, little girl tone, jutting out my bottom lip. Suddenly, the climate in the room had changed. It felt almost as if we were…flirting.

Flirting? That’s it, I’m never drinking again.




______

Chapter 6:




After being attacked by Riley, I really wasn’t looking forward to telling Will his real intentions. Overnight, she had fallen for the asshole, and had rushed out buying momentous of their ‘night’ together, (a single of ‘Hot in Here’, and a bottle of his dated CK-One cologne…). Finally, after gym, Cordy helped me break the news gently:

"It’s okay, Willow."

"Yeah, he’s an asshole…"

"You can do so much better…"

"I think I saw Scott Hope checking you out…"

"Oh you guys…" Will sniffed, whipping away some of the tears from her eyes. "What would I do without you?"

I suggested that we skip fifth period and head on over to the Coffee Bean for some ice mochas (they can be a really great comfort-food substitute), but Will said no, she’s got this weird thing about actually wanting to attend class.

******************************************************

As Ms. McGuire was going over Proofs in Geometry, I found it hard to pay attention, not that I pay attention anyway, but today all I could focus on was Willow. Riley was such a bad choice for a guy, they had zero in common, plus Will has too much personality, something Mr. Finn is sorely lacking.

There’s other guys out there, and while the gene pool might be a little shallow at Sunnydale, I’m sure there’s someone out there who would be right up Will’s alley…

Suddenly, my Willow-train of thought was derailed, as quite possibly the most gorgeous guy I’ve ever seen appeared in the doorway.

"You must be Owen." Ms. McGuire smiled. "Have a seat, there’s an empty desk, third row."

Owen? This is Owen Thurman?! He wore all black, like one of those beat-nick poetry types, who took LSD and never shaved back in the 60’s. He was tall, bulky, not bulky fat, but bulky muscular, with short, sandy-blonde hair, piercing green eyes, a tortured, wounded puppy-dog look…

"Excuse me?" He smiled at me, tapping my shoulder.

"Huh?" Great, that’s all I can say…well, at least I’m not drooling…

"You dropped this." He handed me the pencil that had dropped out of my hand, I wasn’t even aware it had dropped it, but eternally grateful for my clumsiness.

"Thanks." I smiled, my seductive pouty smile (more emphasis on the lips…).

"Buffy, can you tell me the answer to question fifteen?" Ms. McGuire asked suddenly, totally breaking Owen and I out of the moment we were in.

"Um…New Jersey?"

Alright, so I forgot this was Geometry…

************************************************************

Over the next few days, I did what I always do when I like a guy, draw attention to myself in any way possible. Doing the giggly-girly thing when Owen just happened to be around, flirting with other guys in his eye-line, just so he could see how desired I am and be major jealous, and finally, buying a bag of Blow Pops, just for the purpose of eating them during fifth period. Drawing attention to your mouth when trying to get a guy to notice you is one of the cardinal rules.

"Hey, Buffy." He whispered, smiling at me, during one of McGuire’s long lectures. "You busy this weekend?"

"I’d have to check my schedule…"

"Oh."

"But, I think I can move a few things around, why?"

"I was hoping, you and me could get together…maybe a little dancing or something. I don’t really know all the hotspots around here."

"There’s always the Bronze…"

"Cool, only if you can make it, it’s cool…"

"Does eight o’clock sound good to you?" I said, quickly cutting him off. Mentally kicking myself for letting my eagerness show.

**********************************************************

I was in the middle of finding the perfect shoes to match the black leather mini I chose to wear, one has to show off the legs on a first date, when the doorbell rang. God, what is it with guys getting to your house so damn early?!

I rushed out to the top of the stairs, trying to strap on my black pumps at the same time, screaming.

"Mom, can you get the door please, I’m not ready yet!"

"Buffy, I’m busy, come down and get it yourself!"

"Mom! I can’t let him see me yet…come on…!" I whined, you’d think mom of all people would understand the need to make a guy wait a while before making your entrance.

"No!"

Spike happened to be lounging around our house that night, it was his bi-weekly laundry/free meal day, and he was my last hope, as the doorbell rang a couple more times…

"Spike! Please…Spike!"

"Bloody hell…" I heard him sigh, as he walked over to the door, a bowel of Captain Crunch in his hand.

Finally, the shoes were on, and after giving myself a quick once…er twice over in the mirror, I headed downstairs, to make my entrance.

Owen was standing at the foot of the stairs, looking incredibly yummy, along with Spike, who was grilling him, no doubt. Spike always had a tendency to do that with my dates…

Their eyes fell on me, as I made my way down. My outfit having the desired effect on Owen as his eyes glazed over a bit, but I found myself strangely focusing on the look Spike was giving me. Just another one for my record, only this…his eyes twinkled brightly and his mouth hung open slightly. The second I opened my mouth to ask Spike what his deal was, the bowl of cereal he held, slipped out of his hand, shattering into pieces on the floor.

"Shit!" He cried out, running a hand through his hair.

"You look great." Owen smiled, taking my hand.

"You don’t look so bad yourself." I smiled, seductively biting on my lower lip.

"Uh…do you need help with that, man?"

Spike glared at Owen, smiling sardonically. "No, thank you, I’ve got it under control."

"I’ll be back late mom!"

"12:30, Buffy! No later!"

I rolled my eyes as we headed towards the door, god, mom can be so uncompromising sometimes.

"See ya later, butterfingers." I grinned at Spike, that evil grin quickly turning into a scowl, once he grabbed my arm pulling me back in the house.

"The lady will be with you in a second." He said to Owen, shutting the door.

"What the hell is your deal, cave man?!"

"You’re not going out like that."

"Going out like what?!"

"Like that!" He said, making frenzied gestures towards my outfit. "You look like a bloody hooker!"

"Oh…" I smiled, nodding. "I get it."

"Get what?"

"No wonder you got all deer-in-headlights when you saw me coming down the stairs." I snickered, wrenching my arm out of his grasp. "I look like a hooker, so therefore…you must have been having flashbacks to your first time." I rolled my eyes, walking out the door, slamming it loudly behind me. I look like a hooker?!

The nerve of that bastard….



Chapter 7:


My date with Owen went reasonably well, we danced, we talked, we laughed, danced some more, and at the end I got a couple of smooches. I was my usual charming self, and he promised he’d give me a call in a couple of days.

Wouldn’t you know it, Spike ended up making an appearance at the Bronze, pulling that residual over-protective big brother crap. He only showed up to spy on me, but did a very sweet thing by dancing with Willow who was kind of left out tonight.

After saying goodbye to Owen, you know, with the smooches, I piled in Spike’s tin machine, slamming the door. I had to make sure he knew I was still pissed at him, and kicking his balls in would be too obvious.

"I’m sorry." He mumbled, keeping his eyes on the road.

"About what?"

"Don’t do that, Buffy."

"Do what?"

"I’m trying to apologize, you stupid git."

I turned, giving my eyes a break from the window, and glared at him. "When I look that word up, you are so dead."

He smiled, laughing a bit. "Look, luv, if I insulted you tonight, I’m sorry."

"No, telling someone they look like a hooker is the utmost of compliments." I rolled my eyes.

"Look, I didn’t like the way that blighter was looking at you. You could do much better than that poncey little drool monkey…" He grumbled. I had to smile, he was beyond adorable, one of Spike’s peeves is to apologize for anything which means he always looks like a sullen little kid when he does, his bottom lip jutting out…

"Apology accepted." I sighed, rolling my eyes, laughing when he turned and grinned at me.

"That was really sweet of you to dance with Will tonight."

He shrugged. "No big. No sense in a pretty girl like that not having every bloke fighting to dance with her."

"This is that rare human side of you isn’t it?"

"Yeah." He laughed.

"I like it, you should show it more often."

*****************************************************************

Owen called me up a few days later suggesting that we ‘hang out’, maybe watch a couple of movies. Of course I told him ‘Yeah, sure, whatever…" but on the inside, I was screaming. A girl shouldn’t show her enthusiasm outright like that, one has to be coy…

I got unbelievably lucky, mom was working late at the gallery setting up for a huge show on phallic art, and Spike decided to actually live at his apartment for once and was nowhere around. After giving Rosa the night off, I dashed around the house getting everything ready for Owen.

I picked out the videos; three Julia Roberts’ two John Cusack’s, and one with the combination of the two.

Cleaned up the mess from dinner, and popped two bowls of popcorn, one with milkduds dumped in, and one without. Rushed, everything upstairs, checked my hair, the makeup, the hair again, and the outfit, and made it halfway downstairs when the doorbell rang, just in time.

Owen smiled brightly, looking like the huge chunk of salty goodness that he was, giving me a kiss before walking in.

"You look amazing."

"Thanks." I smiled, the pouty smile, kissing him again, taking his hand and leading him upstairs.

*****************************************************

"I’m beginning to think this is a conspiracy…" He smiled, inching closer to me on the bed as he looked through my video selections.

"What?" I shrugged innocently, grinning.

"I think you’re trying to set me up, Ms. Summers. All of these romantic movies, it’s as if you’re expecting them to have some sort affect on me, some kind of chick flick mind control…"

I giggled, waving my fingertips in front of his eyes. "You’re getting very sleepy." Owen laughed, grabbing my hands, and pulled me in for a kiss. It was soft and teasing, and making me tingle in all the right places. Things got heated considerably fast, and as his tongue slipped past my lips, I felt my back being gently laid down on the bed.

Now, I may know a lot about guys, but when it comes to sex…I’m about as clueless as a blind man behind the wheel of a car is.

I’ve only been in the position (no pun intended) to have sex once in my entire life. Back in my freshman year, I dated this guy Liam Killian, but everyone called him ‘Angel’. He was a gorgeous senior who wanted to date little ol’ me, and we were happy for about eight months, but after eight months of not giving up the goods, he was starting to get restless. Started pressuring me more and more, and I almost gave in, but quickly came to my senses at the last minute, giving him a clean shot to the balls when he wouldn’t get off of me.

I always wanted my first time to be this mutual feeling of mad, passionate love. Owen and I have only known each other for two weeks…

Before I could break the kiss, he did, staring down at me with the strangest expression on his face. I gave him a weak smile, placing a hand on his cheek.

"I, I can’t do this." Owen sighed, rolling off of the bed. Wait a minute?! I’m the one who’s supposed to say that, what the hell does he mean he can’t do this?!

"What’s wrong?’

He paced back and forth, rubbing his hands together. "I’m sorry, Buffy. I’m really sorry!"

"What is it?! Do, do I have bad breath or something?!"

"No! No, you’re great, amazing in fact. You’re beautiful and funny…I just…" He began, finally stopping his pacing. "Back in Philly, I had this girlfriend, Janie…and I love her so much, and she said since I was leaving maybe we should try seeing other people. I just…I can’t lead you on like that." He offered me a smile, hanging his head down.

So, he’s got a girlfriend, well at least he didn’t realize he was gay, that would have really been a blow to my self-esteem.

"It’s okay, Owen." I smiled. "I understand."

"You do?! That’s so great, cause I really like you and I really want us to be friends."

"Then friends it is!" The smile on my face was so wide and painful, I thought for sure my lips would crack and bleed at any second.

If only I had known what was to come after my disaster with Owen, I would have never left my house again.



Chapter 8:


I actually managed to parlay my disaster with Owen into a really great friendship. Since jumping his bones was completely out of the question, I took the time to get to know him better: Loves Emily Dickinson, can brood for forty minutes straight, and he and his girlfriend Janie decided seeing other people was a dumb waste of time, and are now practically engaged.

Owen’s also the rare type of guy who can stand being in mall with two females while they shop and talk about nothing. I hope Janie knows she’s got a great guy, I took Angel shopping with me only once, and his head practically spun around and exploded.

"What do you think of this one?"

"It’s great, Buffy…what corner are you working on?"

I scoffed loudly, rolling my eyes as I tucked the dress back on the rack. "I resent that remark…"

"Sorry." Owen shrugged, giving me a grin. "You know I’m protective of you, disgusting guys would be following you around like cats in heat if you wore that thing. I should know, I’m one of them."

"Nah, you’re the faithful type."

"That could change if you wore that dress." He smiled.

We headed out of the store, with my new dress in tow (hey, I’ll take guys following me around like cats in heat any day), and were off to find Will. She met these random guys at Old Navy, and had agreed to go out to the patio with them while they had a smoke. Normally I wouldn’t have dared let her go by herself, but that dress in the window of Maurice’s was calling to me…

I quickly regretted my need to ogle clothing once I heard the blood-curdling scream that came from the patio.

Owen, not wasting another second, shoved the heavy door all the way open, dashing out there like some kind of noble knight, with me right on his heels. There was Will, pinned up against the wall with some drooling Mongoloid flesh against her, his hand her thigh.

"I said get off me!"

Owen grabbed him from behind, giving him a good punch in the face, as I put my arms around Will, dragging her away.

"What the hell is your problem, man!"

"I believe the lady said ‘no’! Why don’t you try being a real, fucking man!" Owen spit, giving that asshole a shove in the other direction.

"Are you okay, Willow?"

"We, we were just talking and then all of a sudden…" She said, her voice shaky. I tightened my grip on her, pulling her closer. I could kill that dick for even thinking about messing with Willow…

"Come on, let’s go home."

********************************************************

Word travels fast at Sunnydale, soon everyone was talking about Will’s ‘brush with death’, as it was now called, and how brave Will was for fighting off that guy.

"Hey Buffy, is it true someone tried to shoot Will at the mall?"

"No." I sighed loudly, rolling my eyes. Don’t get me wrong, what happened to Will was deadly serious, and I’m glad that she’s okay, but this whole ‘damsel in distress’ thing was getting to me.

I fought threw the crowd in the middle of the quad, so that I could take my usual seat and force myself to at least eat a few bites of the sandwich I brought…

Willow, of course, was already there relaying her story for what was probably the thousandth time to her adoring crowd. I noticed, it always seemed to change from day to day, sometimes it was three guys instead of the one, sometimes he had a gun, sometimes he was a gang member and it was supposed to be apart of his initiation. …

"Even though I was scared to death, I still tried to keep my mind clear…"

"To anticipate his next move, right?"

"Exactly."

"Hey, Willow." I interrupted. "I was thinking about going to the antique bookstore downtown, to get something for Owen. Like a ‘thank-you’ gift or something, wanna come?"

"Oh, I love too! He saved my life after all." The smile on her face suddenly disappeared. "Wait, I can’t. I’m going shopping with Harmony today after school."

Harmony?! Since when does she hang with my evil clone Harmony?!

"That’s okay." I said, giving her a thin smile. "We can go tomorrow."

"Actually…I’ve got plans tomorrow, too, but when I get a free day, I’ll give you a call, okay Buff."

Buff?! Since when…okay, what bazaar-o world have I fallen into? Willow the most popular girl in school, hanging out with skanky imitators like Harmony, completely blowing off Oz…and me for that matter…

What the hell have I done?!

****************************************************

On top of everything that happened at school, once I got home mom practically tore me a new one because Rosa ‘magically’ found the five unpaid parking tickets I had hidden under my bed.

"I didn’t even know you could get parking tickets without a license!"

"Mom, I meant to tell you…"

"You’ll be lucky if you make it to your tenth high school reunion."

"Why?"

"Because that’s exactly how long you’ll be grounded."

As if I weren’t feeling icky enough, Spike also hopped on the Buffy bashing bandwagon, only because I told Darla she had the wrong number when she called. Hey, I thought I was doing him a favor, the girl’s completely wrong for him…and is it really my fault she knew what the word ‘punta’ meant…

"You can be such a bloody brat, Buffy!" He screamed, stalking off towards the phone in a huff.

That did it. It was like, Spike being angry with me hurt more than everything else, and I made my way upstairs, flopping down on my bed, pulling Mr. Gordo, close. I don’t like to cry, especially when I’m not wearing my good mascara, but this time I couldn’t help it.

*****************************************************

"Oh hey, you’re up!" Willow beamed at me, as I made my way downstairs. There she was with Spike, the two of them laughing over some book…I guess geekiness never dies no matter how you dress it up…

"Hey." I yawned. "What’s so funny?"

"It’s nothing." Spike smiled, shutting the book back. "Some boring stuff on Freud, you wouldn’t be interested."

What makes him think I wouldn’t be interested?

Willow got up, making her way over to me, grabbing my arm. "Come here, I’ve been waiting all morning to talk to you." She smiled, dragging me into the kitchen.

She shoved a shoebox full of stuff towards me, taking a seat at the bar.

"What’s this?"

"A bunch of stuff that reminded me of Riley. I was hoping we could burn it or something, I’m so completely over him."

"Sure." I grinned. "We’ll build a big bonfire in the back just to toast it all, and maybe a few marshmallows."

She laughed. "That sounds great." Willow paused, looking around for a second. "Hey, Buffy, what do you think of Spike?"

"What do you mean, what do I think of Spike?"

"I dunno." She shrugged. "He’s cute, right?"

"In a mutant sort of way, I guess." Suddenly, I was feeling very sick, I really didn’t like the way this line of questioning was going.

"Do you think you could help me get him?" She asked, looking over her shoulder as if Spike had stepped into the room.

"Get him?"

"You know…" She sighed. "I’m so bad at this. I really like him, and being his sister…"

"Ex-stepsister." I quickly corrected.

"I thought maybe you could put in a good word for me. I mean, I think he likes me, I just need someone to give him that extra push."

"I don’t know, Will…" I began, this was bothering me way more than I thought it would… "Spike’s really into the stuffy college chicks…"

"So, what? You’re saying I don’t have a chance?"

"No! No, Will, I’m not saying that at all…" Then what the hell am I saying?! "It’s just…I don’t think you and Spike would fit well…"

"We wouldn’t fit?!" Willow sneered at me, climbing to her feet. I didn’t even know Willow could sneer. "Why am I listening to you anyway, when’s the last time you had a date let alone a boyfriend."

Wow, that hurt. I didn’t know Willow could have it in her to say something so mean. I was starting to get that lump in my throat, and I fought hard to keep from crying, again.

"I’m sorry, Buffy." She sighed. "I didn’t mean…"

"I know."

"Look, why don’t I just go. I’ll call you later or something."

It felt like the whole room was spinning, and any minute, I was going to puke. Willow and Spike?! I know I should be happy for them, Willow is a friend after all, but the very thought of them together stressed me out to no end…

Chapter 9:



Rating: PG-13 (mmm-hmmm)

Disclaimer: Stealing is such an ugly, guttural, Anglo-Saxon kind of word. I prefer ‘borrowed generously’, so I ‘borrowed generously’ from the following people: Jossie Whedon, Jane ‘the Terminator’ Austen, and Amy ‘I hate stupid nicknames’ Heckerling.

Author’s Note: Yeah, okay I’ve been slacking off lately…but cut me some slizzack all right *pretend I didn’t just say that…*. Any-hoo, here’s a brand spanking new chappy for Matchmaker…and soon, Possession will follow the second my blinding writers block goes away ;D.

***************************************************

I felt horrid.

There’s no other word for it. Everything I had touched with the greatest of intentions had blown up in my face, first there was Riley who tried to take the ‘Mike Tyson’ approach to dating, and then there was Owen, sweet hopelessly in love with a girl who isn’t me Owen. And of course, most importantly, there’s Willow. Sweet, shy Willow who, thanks to me, is now a grade A first class witch (i.e. the most popular girl in school), and on top of all that, Spike was angry with me.

Now, I usually revel in the glee when Spike gets mad at me, but this time…it only seemed to make things worse, and now he wanted Willow?! What the hell was that all about?! The two of them had absolutely nothing in common, well, okay they both really like to read books by pompous dead guys for some reason, but that fact doesn’t scream ‘true love’ to me. Spike would drive her insane, I mean how many conversations can you have with someone about Tolstoy before you want to poke your eyes out with a rusty stake knife (hello to the imagery, huh?)?

And then there’s Willow, now don’t get me wrong, before I turned her into the Fashion Hitler, she was the nicest girl you could ever want to meet, but for Spike that’s not enough. He needs someone to challenge him, someone that won’t let him get away with all of the intellectual crap he tends to spew, someone to laugh at his painfully unfunny jokes…

I sighed, rolling over on my stomach, grabbing for my diary. ‘This is truly the winter of my discontent’…

Who says I’m not good with the deep poetry stuff…

As I was writing, it dawned on me, I Buffy Summers, needed a makeover, but this time, I’d make over my soul.

*************************************************

Usually, I tend to stay as far away from the alley behind the Bronze as humanly possible, but tonight, I was drawn to it. Of course it leads to the bad side of town, but at the moment, I didn’t care. I had twenty bucks in my pocket, and I was determined to do something good for mankind with it.

I never understood why anyone would want to become a hooker, even though I’ve been called one more often lately than I would like. Sex with strange men night after night, standing on some lonely street corner, no medical or dental…

"I don’t do girls, sweetheart." She smirked at me, putting out her cigarette. "And even if I considered making an exception, it would take a hell of a lot more than twenty bucks to change my mind."

"What? Oh, no…I don’t want…" I stammered, quickly shaking my head. Great, not even five minutes into this goodwill stuff, and I’m already fucking it up. She just smiled at me, lighting another cigarette. God, she looked as if she were my age, raven hair, ruby lips, she had this spark in her eyes, like she was dangerous…but a good kind of dangerous, great, if I keep up this line of thinking, I’m going to start to wonder about myself….

"What do you want? I do have a business to run here…"

"I…I…" I know I can speak like normal humans, but it wasn’t coming out like it should. Stupid…stupid…stupid…

"What are you retarded, Goldilocks?" She laughed.

"Can I buy you a cup of coffee?"

She looked at me as if I had grown another head and it was yelling at her in Chinese, then she laughed louder than I’ve ever heard anyone laugh.

"You wanna buy me a cup of coffee?!"

I nodded. Stupid…stupid…

"What are you, Goodwill for whores?"

"No." I shook my head. "Look, if you don’t want coffee, that’s fine…" I said, turning to walk away. God, this was such a bad idea, maybe I should have went to one of Spike’s PETA meetings instead…

"Wait, Goldilocks!" She called, smiling at me. She paused for a second, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Make it a sandwich and you got yourself a deal."

She walked up beside me, giving me another grin as she tossed another cigarette butt to the ground. "I’m Faith, by the way."

"Buffy." I smiled.

"Buffy…" She said my name as if she were mulling it over, studying it. "Nice name, B. Very So-Cal."

************************************************

"Naked alligator wrestling…" I grinned. "You’re shitting me, right?"

"Nope." Faith laughed, taking a big bite of the club sandwich, seemingly not caring that most of it fell out the back of the bread. "I’ve only known you for what? Thirty minutes? Why would I lie to you, B?"

I nodded my head. In a weird way, I believed the alligator story, along with all of the other tales of travel Faith told me. She just seems like that type of person.

"So, what’s your story, B?"

"I don’t really have one…"

"Oh, sure you do." She smiled. "I mean, it’s not ‘take a whore to dinner’ week or anything, so there’s definitely something going on with you."

"I needed the company."

"Right." Faith mumbled, taking a sip of her coke. "What’s his name?"

"His name? Him who?"

"The guy that’s got you so wound tight." She smiled. "You really got it bad, huh?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no guy…"

"Mmm-hmm…"

"I mean, there was a guy, an Owen guy, but it didn’t really work out…"

"And no one else besides this Owen guy?"

Of course there’s no one besides Owen, I mean, the only other guy in my life full time is Spike and it would be a cold day in hell…

"I haven’t lied to you, B." Faith smiled earnestly, putting her feet up on the seat next to me.

"Okay, there’s one other guy, but it’s just Spike."

"Spike? Sounds like a drummer I knew in Boston, what a wicked bastard he was."

"Oh, Spike’s a wicked bastard, but I don’t think he ever infected Boston. Or plays the drums."

Faith laughed. "Then who is this Spike guy?"

"Annoying ex-stepbrother who doesn’t understand that divorce means we’re not obligated to be around each other anymore."

"Right…"

"He transferred all the way from NYU, just to go to UC Sunnydale, and raid our refrigerator. Ever since he’s been back, he’s been making my life a living hell. First he says I’m too selfish, then when I try to be helpful, he still says I’m the only one getting anything out of it…"

"I don’t know." She shrugged. "I did get a sandwich…"

"I know! Then, on my first date with Owen, he embarrasses the hell out of me, and tells me that I look like a hooker…no offense…"

"None taken."

"And now, he’s busy macking on my friend Willow! Well, she was my friend, I’m not exactly sure now…she’s some kind of Evil Willow hybrid thingy…"

"And the Willow/Spike thing bothers you?" Faith laughed, shoving an onion in her mouth.

"Yeah, only because I know what an asshole he is!"

Faith was laughing hard at this point, with snorts and everything. What the hell was so funny?!

"What the hell is so funny?!"

"You are, B." She said, wiping at her eyes. "Yeah, there’s no guy you’re crunching over…sure…"

"What?"

"I’m not gonna tell you." She grinned. "Figure it out on your own."

*************************************************************

"And where have you been all bloody night?"

Great, Spike was still making himself useless around the house. I rolled my eyes at him, flopping down on the couch. "Out."

He snorted, shaking his head. "I know that, ‘where’ would be the operative word."

"What, you keeping tabs on me now?" I glared.

"No, genius, but when one goes up to your room only to find you gone without a trace, one does get worried."

Worried? Spike was worried about me?

"I was at the Bronze." I mumbled. "Hung out with a friend for a while."

"Should have known…" He sighed. I just couldn’t hold it in anymore, and grinned like an idiot. He was worried about me?!

"What, what’s with the Chesire Cat grin?"

"You were worried about me?!" I teased in a singsong voice, laughing a bit. Hey, I couldn’t help it. Spike sighed again, shaking his head and poked me in the side with his index finger, making me jump…bastard. I am not about to start another tickle world war on this couch…

"Of course I was worried, Buffy." He smiled, poking me again…

That’s when it hit me, the devilish grin on his face, the twinkle in his eyes, the fluttery butterfly feelings I got when ever he poked me…

Oh god…

I’m in love with Spike?!

One hundred percent, head over heels, stupid teenage clichéd in love with Spike!

I think there’s something seriously wrong with this world…

TBC…

Chapter 10:

Rating: PG-13 (fun for the whole dysfunctional family ;D)

Disclaimer: You know, it’s hard living up to expectations, it’s like I’m always supposed to have something really clever and funny to say in these damn disclaimers, and with that on top of that freakin troll in the corner making faces at me as I type, it’s too much pressure! So, here Joss owns the freaking characters, Jane Austen freaking owns Emma, and Amy Heckerling freaking wrote Clueless. Gosh, you guys, get off my back!

************************************************

When it comes to guys, I’m usually pretty cool, always confidence girl, but with Spike, my usual games (strappy tops, blow pops to bring attention to the mouth…), weren’t gonna work. I’ve known him since I was fourteen, and quickly realized that I cared too much about him to waste his time with my games.

Without my usual tricks, I was left feeling strangely self-conscious, and I didn’t know how to act around him any more.

"Oi! Buffy, what’s your problem?"

"What do you mean ‘what’s my problem’? I don’t have a problem, why would I have a problem, and do you have to push like that?!"

"Did someone spike your Diet Coke?" He grinned. "I only meant, we’ve been sitting here for nearly a bloody hour, and you haven’t tried to make me watch Spongebob Squarepants."

Spongebob’s on?! God, I completely forgot… "Hey, I watch the news…"

He snorted, giving me a look.

"Sometimes." I mumbled. "I wanted to be informed."

"Your head looks like it’s about to explode…"

"I’m just trying hard to pay attention."

I decided the best thing to do is get over him. It’s clear Spike only sees me as an annoying little sister type, especially since I overheard him on the phone making plans to go Bronzing with Willow Friday night. After two pints of cookie-dough ice cream and five Johnny Depp movies back to back, I felt a lot better about my situation. All I needed was something to take my mind off of Spike, something to make myself feel good.

Spending time with Faith was great, and it felt good to listen to someone else for a while. That’s when I decided, I would do more to help people, I mean really help them.

I registered to volunteer at a Day Care center, and even got Cordy to come with…

"Buffy! This little thing just blew chunks all over my two-hundred dollar Gucci shoes!"

Though it took much groveling to get her to come back a second time.

Also, I made a habit of taking Faith out for a bite every Tuesday night.

"So B, have you done it?"

"Done what?" I asked, taking a sip of my coke (diet of course).

Faith rolled her eyes at me, sighing. "Done what?" She mimicked. "You know, B, I’m starting to think you’re a natural blonde…"

"Hey!"

"Have you talked to that Spike guy you’re all hot for?" She grinned.

"No and no." I sighed. "He’s been out with Willow every night this week. It’s just a stupid crush…" I mumbled. "I’ll get over it."

Faith gave me a sympathetic smile, reaching across the table, putting her hand on mine. "I know some people who could take care of this Willow chick for you."

"While that’s a very caring, yet frightening gesture, I don’t think so." I chuckled. "If Spike wants to be with Willow, that’s fine." I sighed. "I’m happy for him."

Faith shrugged, giving me another smile. "You sure? Cause I could have someone break her legs, like that." She snapped her fingers, shoving the rest of the sub in her mouth.

Okay, I have to admit at this point the offer to have Willow’s legs broken…kinda appealing, but of course I told Faith no. I would never do that…really!

***************************************************

I was getting pretty good at keeping my mind off the whole Spike and Willow thing, well, being the organizer of the Spring Carnival at the day care really helped…also the not talking to either Spike or Will for nearly two weeks did the trick.

"Hey Buffy." Oz smiled, taking a seat next to me in the quad. Oz at school? Oz talking to me? Wait, Oz actually came to school?!

"Hey Oz…"

"Here." He said, shoving a wad of money in my hand.

"What’s this for? I mean, not that I don’t like it when people shove big wads of money in my hand…"

"Your shoes."

"Shoes…"

"The red ones I kind of coated with Zima." He chuckled. "I’m really sorry about that."

"Oz, no, it’s okay. I can’t take your money."

He shoved the money back it me, smiling. "No, I want you to have that. I owe you."

What the hell is wrong with me?! How could I have ever thought someone as sweet and nice as Oz wasn’t good enough for Willow?!

"Well…" I began, grinning. "If you feel like you owe me, then I think there’s something better you can do to make up for the shoes."

"What is it?"

"We’re having this spring carnival at the day care I volunteer for, would Dingoes mind supplying the music?"

"We’d be happy to. Really, you haven’t heard ‘Mary had a little lamb’, until you’ve heard us play it."

*************************************************

Argh, you know there’s absolutely no point to homework. It’s like the teachers get to torture us for six hours a day, five days a week, do they really have to extend the punishment into our home lives?!

I growled in frustration, marking another paragraph in my book with my trusty highlighter. Even though Mr. Giles had changed his very anal tune since getting together with Ms. Calendar (the two are currently happily engaged, by the way), he still gave killer chapter tests that made most teachers mid-terms look like kindergarten worksheets.

"Whatcha doing?" Spike purred in my ear, making me jump nearly ten feet. Not so much from the shock of him being here (I heard the front door slam, it could only be him), but from the sound of his voice, dipped in a rich baritone and that sexy accent, and the idea that those lips were close to my ear…

Dammit, I’m getting over him…I’m over him…

"Playing soccer." I snickered, marking another paragraph. He pulled up the seat next to me, staring at me while I tried to read. Do you have any idea how hard it is to concentrate on Voltaire with Spike staring at you?!

"What?"

"Nothing." He shrugged.

"So, what you’re just gonna sit there staring at me like some kind of idiot for the rest of the night?" I snapped. Having him sitting so close was killing me, and I really needed to finish up this work.

"That was plan." He grinned. "At least until Dawson’s Creek comes on."

"Dawson’s Creek." I snorted. "What no date with Willow?"

"No…" He laughed.

"What’s so funny?"

"Does my seeing Willow bother you, Buffy?"

Yes, god yes, and I would like it to stop now. "Nope, couldn’t care less."

"Are you sure?"

"Why are we having this conversation?! I told you it doesn’t bother me." I sighed loudly, turning the page in my book. "If you want to laugh about Freud with Will, then by all means…"

"If it bothers you pet, I won’t…"

"Look, I’ve got a ton of work to do here, so if you wouldn’t mind could we stop talking?"

Spike nodded solemnly, getting up and walking away. I didn’t mean to be such a bitch, and I know I started the whole thing on Willow…

"Argh!" I grumbled, beating my head against the table. Just when it seems I’m doing fine with this whole thing, my jealousy comes back to bite me in the ass.

TBC…