ch. 1: summerfield - summers

There he was, walking towards his locker, which happened to be right next to hers, which meant that he was walking towards her, which meant that in a few moments he would be right next to her, which meant that she was going to have to say something that somewhat resembled normal conversation and pretend like she wasn't staring, which meant that she had to look into her locker and pre--

"Hey, Buffy," he said with nonchalance. Spike gave her a quick smile while he threw open his locker and continued his conversation with Xander about how his band was going to be playing at the Bronze.

"Hey, there," Buffy said, pretending to search for something of great importance. He was so close, but nothing. Nothing that made her any different from any other girl he'd gone to school with for the past three years--and that knowledge was slowly eating away at her. She sighed miserably.

"You alright?" Spike stopped for a moment and looked at her, her tired sigh making him a politely concerned.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I just thought I brought something to school but I didn't, which means I'll have to figure something out or do something, you know, to figure out what to do. Uh, yeah, it's just my stupidity." Buffy looked down and threw her backpack on. "See you guys later."

“Wonder what’s wrong with her,” said Xander as he watched her quickly weave her way through the crowded halls. “She seemed fine this morning.”

“Yeah, well, you never know with these girls. Nice one minute, horrible the next. Although, with Buffy it seems to be more horrible than nice,” Spike muttered as he closed his locker.

“Actually, Buffy’s always nice to me. So, I guess it’s just you, my bleached friend. Maybe she’s always blinded by the whiteness of your hair, gets a headache, and lashes out at you, while when with she is soothed by the coolness of the Xanman and his dark chocolate locks. Wait, did I just say locks? Cuz, I was just kidding about that. Hehe.”

“It’s Anya’s influence. You’re starting to sound more and more like her. Better watch out--people might think you’re in looovve.” Spike smirked as he teased his friend about the steady girlfriend of several months--anything was better than talking about Buffy’s mood swings.

***

God, why did she always act so stupid around him? There were a total of two ways she acted around him. One: stupid. Stuttering, flailing for words--her, the star of Mr. Giles’ English class, second-guessing herself and belittling herself...that was method one when he was around. Two: mean. There was something about him, something about her thinking about him, something about their proximity that made her throw psi-blades at him with biting accuracy. It was totally a defense mechanism, she knew. She was naturally sarcastic, and being genuine meant showing affection, which she obviously couldn’t do--she just couldn’t take the inevitable rejection. So she went with being mean--in a witty way, of course, but mean nonetheless. He didn’t like her the way she wanted, but he sure as hell knew she existed. “Ugh, why can’t I just act normal around him?” she thought to herself. Stupid or mean, such limited choices, but this morning she had just been stupid, and in all honesty, stupid was sometimes better than mean. Stupid didn’t make him hate her, just think less of her--and that was pretty normal for her. Meanness brought out the meanness in him, and he could be as harsh as she could, especially with the narrowing of the eyes and the tenseness of the jaw. Mean Spike could reduce her to stupid in 5 minutes, which meant she acted both ways around him. Or, Mean Spike brought out Meaner Buffy, which meant that she would keep stabbing him until he was willing to walk away and she collapsed in a mess of wounds.

Too much thinking! Buffy scolded herself. ”I’ll just go to class and hope that I can lose myself in Calculus and be grateful, for once, that this time around the alphabet falls in a way that puts Summers in the front row and Spike Summerfield in the last seat of the previous row.” Since they had five out of seven classes together, it was hard avoiding him after a negative meeting. But this was the only class where he didn’t sit directly in front of her, and right now it was her saving grace. She took notes and attempted to become immersed in the integrals and equations that were dancing on the chalkboard. ”At least I’m smart,” she thought to herself. “That’s gotta count for something.”

ch. 2: gotta have faith, or at least a study group

“So, are we up for starting the study sessions for the year? I vote Buffy’s house, ‘cause her mom’s the coolest and lets us stay late. I naysay Xan’s house because we always get stuck in the basement. And I would volunteer my house, but then I wouldn’t have an excuse to leave. So, Buffy’s?” Willow said with her eyes wide with excitement. She was always excited about studying, despite the groans that were making their way through the group’s lunch table.

“Well, count me in for Buffy’s. Her mom is definitely cooler than my mom, and plus, Dawnie has a crush on me. I can always use some ego stroking--ow, Anya.” Xander rubbed his ribs where Anya had ferociously poked him. “What’s the big deal?”

“You shouldn’t need stroking from other people, especially from someone who’s younger and clearly not me. Isn’t my stroking quite satisfying?” Anya asked, starting to pout.

“Yes, yes. I’m sure you guys stroke each other real well. But let’s not dwell on that excess of information, mm kay?” Buffy said, quick to change the subject. “My house is fine. I don’t really care one way or another, as long as you guys don’t mind Dawn’s annoying presence. She is such a pain sometimes. And Xan? She has gotten kinda tall and middle-schoolish, so I don’t think her crush on you is still intact. She might just roll her eyes and try to annoy you to death. Oh, and did I mention she’s annoying?” Buffy shoved a fry in her mouth with a vengeance. Dawn had a habit of bursting into her room when she wanted to be alone, eavesdropping on her conversations when the telephone was her one decadence, and following her around when there was nothing good on TV. Dawn’s tweenie stage was not in between childhood and adolescence; it was between spoiled brat and irritating teen. And she had a sneaking suspicion that Dawn’s crush on Xander was long gone, replaced by a much hotter Spike, which was just too close to home for her taste.

“Cool! So, the first Calc test is this Friday. Should we start tomorrow night, say 5ish? Oh wait, maybe we shouldn’t do the dinner thing. 7ish?” Willow asked, looking around at the group of seniors she lovingly referred to as the Scoobies. “Buffy? Is that good?”

“Yeah, 7 is good. Actually, let’s say 6:30. The earlier I can have outside company, the better.” She was thinking of ways to keep Dawn out of sight when Spike’s sexy voice broke into her thoughts.

“Why are you so down on Dawn? She seems fine to me.” Spike tried to keep the edge out of his voice, but Buffy always seemed so down on her sister, and he always thought people took it for granted that they had siblings, his having grown up a lonely only child.

“Yeah, well you don’t have to live with her day and night. She may seem sweet to you, but she’s got retractable claws. You’re just lucky she likes you.” With that comment, she got up and threw away her trash. “I gotta go return some books at the library. Will, you wanna come with?”

“Sure thing. I wanted to check out the new arrivals.” Willow gathered her stuff together to follow Buffy out of the cafeteria.

“Hey, did Buffy say Dawn liked me? Xan, you may have some competition,” Spike said, smirking and smacking him on the back. “I still think Buffy’s a little mean to Dawn, but whatever. I guess retractable claws are a Summers trait, eh?”

“Who knows? All I know is, Dawnie has the hots for me, not you. We’ll just see tomorrow night, won’t we?” Xan grinned, confident in the kid sister’s crush.

“Well, too much testosterone and not enough orgasms for me. I think I’ll go now. Xander, walk me to class?”

“Sure, thing. Spike, see you later.”

“Bye, guys.” Spike quickly finished his chocolate milk and threw his trash away. As he walked out of the cafeteria, he accidentally knocked someone’s notebook off a table.

“Oh man, sorry about that. Let me get that,” Spike said quickly, kneeling down to get the notebook and loose paper that had fluttered to the floor.

“Hey, no prob. Happens to everyone, even really hot ones. I’m Faith, by the way.”

“Faith. New here?” Spike said, arched eyebrow and blue eyes staring at her brazenness.

“Yeah, just moved from New York. You kinda looked like you’d understand a city gal like me, so I threw in my hook. It worked, yeah?” Faith flung back her hair and slouched in a way that looked casual but still showed off her cleavage.

“Well, you might be right at that. I’m Spike. I can show you round, if you’d like. You might be a little - aggressive, shall we say, for my crowd, but sometimes we just gotta rock the boat.”

“People tell me I’m pretty good at rockin’ the boat, so long as the boat’s good enough to rock.” Faith slowly looked him up and down. “I’m thinking it’s good enough.”

“Whoa there, babe. You’re lucky I’m a nice guy under all this sexy hotness.” Spike grinned, unused to such blatant flirting inside the high school. He was kinda enjoying himself, despite the warnings that Faith was not a girl to start up with. “You know where you’re going next?”

“Some kind of Biology. You wanna show me?” Faith stood up and waited expectantly.

“Sure thing, pet. Off to Bio we go.”

Ch. 3: How it was supposed to happen

“Hey, Xander. Do you think you could call the guys and tell them to come to my house at 7 instead of 6:30? Mom just called to say she was going to be late, which means dinner will be a little later, which means 7 would be better for all here at the Summers residence.” Buffy doodled on a notepad while waiting for his response. Her doodles were always of the same thing—Spike Summerfield—but it was carefully coded to look like daisies and pointy blades of grass. She had created several masterpieces of this code, no one knowing she was actually telling the world about her obsession for the platinum blonde.

“No prob, Buff. Do you need me to call the Willow and Anya?” Xander asked.

“Well, I already told Willow, and I figure you can tell Anya since you’re picking her up. That cool?” Buffy asked, putting the finishing touches on a daisy that now had bloodied spears protruding from its fuzzy center.

“I am always cool, confident, and collected. I am your man for messages. And now, I am going to make those calls. See you in a bit.”

“Later,” Buffy said and hung up the phone. She glanced at the design that now covered a full sheet of paper—she had gotten pretty quick with these sketches out of so much practice—and sighed. Might as well clean my room before Mom gets home. She trudged up the stairs and pretended not to hear Dawn calling her name.

Entering her room, she put down her stuff and contemplated what to do first. She blasted her Depeche Mode, the dark music matching her mood, and swayed to the pulsing beat while she put her clothes away. Gathering piles to put into the laundry hamper, she took off her sweatshirt with its mustard stain and slid around the room in her favorite velvet cami. Buffy was a big fan of lingerie—something about the softness against her skin, the secret that only she knew made her spend most of her allowance on lacy thongs, velvet camis, black sheer bras, leopard tangas…if Victoria had a secret, Buffy had to have two. She especially liked this velvet cami because of the sultry black velvet that was edged with delicate lace. It made her feel like she had power but still embraced her femininity. With that combination on her body, she danced sexily, allowing the music to rest its strong hands on her hips and lead her movements. She closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her hair, totally letting go of herself and throwing her body into the waves of sound.

***

Dawn snickered as peeked in on Buffy dancing like a stripper. The first time Dawn had called her sister, it was just to annoy her. The second time was to say that Mom wasn’t going to be home till way later, so they were allowed to get pizza. The third time was to tell her that Xander had called and had not been able to get in touch with Spike in time. Serves her right for not listening to me when I call her name. I hope he sees what a dork she is. Dawn slowly crept away, leaving the door slightly ajar.

***

Buffy liked pretending that she was dancing with Spike, that it was his hands on her hips, his body she was leaning into, his lips that were close to her neck. She continued to move around the room, lost to the world and to time—knowing nothing but the imaginary sweetness of the sensuous dance.

***

When the doorbell rang, Dawn bounded down the stairs to get it, hoping that it was Spike—not only to embarrass Buffy but also to flirt shamelessly with the hottie that had stupidly become friends with her sister.

“Hey Dawn, how’s middle school treating you?” Spike entered the house and gave Dawn a welcoming smile—he had always liked the little girl.

“Oh, you know. Boys are stupid and classes are retarded. The same old.” Dawn tried to act nonchalantly, swinging her hair behind her in an attempt to attract his attention. Unfortunately, Spike was distracted by the lack of other people in the house.

“Where are the rest of the Scoobies? Don’t tell me I’m the first one here, even before Red?” Spike asked in astonishment.

“Looks like. Buffy’s in her room. Go ahead up.” Dawn tried to hide her smirk and followed Spike up the stairs. Ooh, nice ass. How does Buffy get to hang out with all these hotties? Dawn went into her room to ponder this and other serious issues of the world.

***

Spike peeked into the room and knocked softly before entering. The music was thumping, and he wasn’t sure if anyone was there when his mouth dropped. There was Buffy, moving sexily to the music in a tight, black top that hugged her breasts. Spike had been accustomed to seeing Buffy in sweatshirts and t-shirts, so he was a bit flummoxed. It’s not that he hadn’t noticed her prettiness—in fact, he often did so with much chagrin, wishing he wasn’t so attracted to her golden looks—but he had never been able to see how much she had been hiding. The cami hit a little above the waist, showing a sliver of skin above her snug jeans. As she continued to move her arms above her head, swaying in a way that made him ache, that sliver became larger, showing him her taut stomach and teasing him with her smooth skin. She slowly turned, her breasts peeking out of her top like luscious scoops of ice cream; his mouth began to water and his cock was now urgently pressing against his jeans.

The song came to and end, as did her dance; Buffy opened her eyes, saw Spike staring, and froze.

“What the hell are you doing in my room?” Buffy spat out, trying to cover her total nervousness and embarrassment in being caught dancing. She winced at the sharp tone in her voice, but she didn’t want to let on how flustered his presence made her feel.

Spike was quickly jolted out of his haze by her harsh tone. “Why do you think I’m here? Study group tonight, innit. What, you too wrapped up in dancing alone that you forgot about real people?” He knew his words were cruel, but it was his natural defense to lash out when he felt he was being attacked.

“I didn’t forget, but I’m not stupid like you, either. 7 –you idiot, not 6:30.” Buffy tried not to let her hurt at his insinuation of her solo dancing affect her, not to mention the fact that she was only wearing a cami in front of her crush.

“What? You said 6:30—what with all the annoyed rolling of eyes and mean talk to your sister, you must have lost a few brain cells.”

“Xander was supposed to call you. And anyway, don’t you knock?” She glared at him, trying to calm her heartbeat and pretend like her nipples weren’t getting harder with each pointed comment.

“I did knock, but you were so lost into yourself that you didn’t hear me. Figures you’d be like that.” Spike tried not to notice how her chest was heaving in anger, how her nipples were poking against that damn sexy top she was wearing.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You know what? I don’t care. Just get out of my room. Study group’s downstairs.” She shoved him into the hallway, trying to ignore the hard chest under her fingers and shut the door.

“Stupid bint,” Spike muttered under his breath, trying not to focus on the peek he had gotten down her tank when she had pushed him out the door. He stomped down the stairs and flopped on the couch, trying to let go of his anger and ease the hard-on that had emerged during their argument.

Buffy leaned against the door, trying to catch her breath and calm her fluttering nerves.

***

The study session passed uneventfully; there were only a few glares passed between the two blondes, which was normal for the them. When it was finally time for the session to end, Buffy was exhausted and eager to get to bed.

“See you guys tomorrow. Next session on Thursday before the test, right?” Buffy called out to her friends leaving the house. She shut the door and breathed a sigh of relief. Her bed was calling to her, knowing she needed a friend to process what had happened in her room earlier.

Finishing her nightly ritual, Buffy threw herself under the covers and thought about her encounter with Spike.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that,” she thought to herself. She began to imagine how it should have happened.

***

Spike walked into his room and threw his backpack on the floor. His calculus was as sharp as ever, but his mind and body were all in a jumble. He had always had this weird attraction to Buffy--weird because she pissed him off like no one else, and weird because she clearly didn’t like him at all--but he had never been hit so hard with that attraction until tonight.

Tonight, he had seen her completely defenseless, dancing with some unseen lover, moving her body like she was confident and comfortable with herself--not insecure and defensive the way she often acted with him. And that persona, the one who made him stare and drool and harden all in a matter of seconds, was not going to let him get much sleep. He brushed his teeth quickly, threw off his clothes, and got into bed. He closed his eyes and relived her dance.

***

She dances by herself, allowing the music to move her, when she suddenly feels hands on her hips.

“Hey, sexy. What are you doing dancing without me?” She feels his breath tickling her neck.

“Spike, you’re early. The group’s not supposed to get here for another half an hour,” she protests weakly but still sinking her body into his hands.

“I know, pet. I know. So let’s savor this dance while we’re alone.” Spike begins moving his hips behind her, their bodies undulating together to the music. Buffy feels the heat start building up in her as she strokes the hard body pressed against hers. “You make me so hot,” Spike murmurs while he dances. He kisses her neck slowly, starting at the base and moving to that spot behind her ear that makes her melt. His hands start to move up her body, caressing her waist and then lightly brushing underneath her breasts. She starts to breathe heavily, arching her back into his. She turns her head and kisses him. She then moves her whole body to face him and feels his tongue caressing her lips and then her tongue as they slowly experience each other’s mouths.

***

He leans back against her bed and watches her dance--only for him. She moves towards him seductively, lowering her eyes as she eases her hands over her breasts and down her hips. She glances at him slyly and then begins to toy with her jeans. Spike breathes in sharply and shifts in his pants, making room for his growing erection.

She unbuttons her jeans and slowly unzips them. Spike notices the black lace peeking through and whistles quietly. Buffy continues to sway to the music, turning around with the beat. She leans over slightly and begins to slide her jeans down, revealing her ass touched by a lacy thong. She lets the jeans drop to the floor and pauses, letting him savor the gorgeous view. She places her hands on her knees and gyrates sensually to the music, every so often looking over her shoulder at him.

Throwing her hair back and running her fingers through it, she sashays towards the bed. She climbs on the edge and crouches on her knees, flexing her body and allowing her chest to skim the covers in a snake-like motion. She leans into him and rips off his jeans, never letting her dancing stop. She runs her hands over her breasts and lightly squeezes them. He moans. She slowly, tantalizingly slides her top off and reveals a black bra that shows off her breasts. She pushes them towards him and lets him taste. His tongue finds her nipple and begins licking and sucking. She throws back her hair and moans, which makes his cock even harder.

***

She stops kissing him long enough to take off his black t-shirt. She runs her hands over his chest, caressing every muscle. Leaning forward, she flicks out her kitten tongue and teases his nipple. He grabs her and devours her, kissing her mouth, her neck, her ears, everything. She presses herself as close as possible, trying to lose herself in his embrace. His hand gently reaches in between them and unbuttons her jeans. Rubbing her through her lace thong, he smiles at her wetness and continues to kiss her while sliding his fingers into her panties and against her clit. She begins to push herself against him, digging her nails into his back while spreading her legs to get him deeper inside. She begins tightening her pussy, waiting for that sensation to knock her over...

***

He throws off his t-shirt and kisses her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and dancing with her tongue, her sweetness overwhelming him. He unhooks her bra and sucks her breast while she rubs herself against his long, hard cock. She pushes her thong to the side and begins touching herself. Moaning, he pushes her hand away and begins pleasuring her. Her wetness is intoxicating, and she begins to shudder with ecstasy. Before she reaches, he thrusts into her. They both scream, him from the tightness and her from the first wave of orgasmic bliss. He sits up, her legs curling around his waist. Rhythmically they begin rocking, the music still pounding in the background. He grabs her hips and begins slamming into her, sucking and kissing and biting everything he can taste. He feels himself moving towards climax and presses her close to him, feeling her legs tighten around him. They both begin breathing faster, moaning louder, squeezing harder...

***

“Uuuunnnngggg,” Buffy breathed, squeezing her thighs together and pressing her fingers up against her quivering clit.

***

“Guuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhh,” Spike moaned as his cum shot out, hitting his sweaty chest and dripping over his abs.

***

The night crept away slowly, leaving them to sleep in complete satisfaction.

ch. 4: partners in cholera

“Last week you gave me a list of your choices for the independent reading assignments. Let’s review…” The teacher droned on about the upcoming assignments and exams.

Normally, Buffy would be doing any number of things: jotting down copious notes, staring at the back of Spike’s neck, cramming for an exam, doodling…she was doing none of these things. She was too distracted to take notes, too embarrassed to stare at Spike’s neck, too wired to think about an exam, too tense to doodle…all because of last night’s dream. It’s not that she had never dreamt about Spike or even imagined being with him; she had on numerous occasions. It was because last night had seemed so real to her; it had been based in reality, which was more than she could say for many of her fantasies, and it had seemed like a possibility in the three seconds they had stared at each other before she had kicked him out of her room. She sighed softly, trying to get her mind to skip to the next track, but it stubbornly stayed on repeat and tortured her mind with images of reality and fantasy intermingling.

“Today I’ll be assigning you partners, so please write down the names of your group members and the books you’ve been assigned.”

Upon hearing her teacher’s words, Buffy finally attempted to focus her thoughts on the man in front of her. She got out her notebook and waited to hear her name.

“Terry Smith and Jonathan Weldon, reading Catcher in the Rye. Andrew Conners and Jenny Stiles, reading The Bell Jar. Buffy Summers and William Summerfield, reading Love in the Time of Cholera…”

Buffy froze. Please tell me he didn’t just say what I think he said. Please tell me he didn’t say what I think he said. Please tell me he didn’t say what I think he sai—”

“So, you signed up for Cholera?” Spike asked, turning around and asking her casually as he looked at the assignment guidelines for the project. He had avoided looking directly at her all day, but the new partner announcement made it rather difficult to keep ignoring her presence. He tried to stay aloof in his conversation.

“Uh, yeah. Didn’t think you’d be interested in something like that,” she muttered, not really thinking about what she was saying. Buffy could only think about how she had felt when he had dream-touched her, and those fantasies were forcing themselves into her reality, however unwelcome they were.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You think I’m too dumb to read books or something?” Spike said, annoyed at her comment but more at his inability to look at her without thinking of her naked.

“Shut up, you idiot. Obviously you read, since you’re in AP English with me. I just didn’t think it’d be your kind of book. Thought you’d be more into Clockwork Orange or One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest or some other book with crazies that you’d be able to relate to,” Buffy retorted, rubbing her eyes. If I close my eyes, maybe he won’t see what I’m thinking,” Buffy thought to herself. Oh, who am I kidding? He never looks at me hard enough to see that. She sighed miserably.

“Look, we’re gonna have to do this project together, and I’m not about to mess up my perfect grades over stupid shit. So let’s set up a schedule and figure out when we’re going to work on this.” Spike ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. They always seemed to fight about stupid things, her sarcasm and biting comments always drawing out the fighter in him. Normally, he wouldn’t think twice about it, but that dream had seemed so vivid to him, making him more aware of her presence, her words, her body, her hair, her scent…

“Fine. Let’s start reading the book and meet on Monday. Say, first 100 pages by then?” she asked, expecting him to balk at the large number of pages. She felt like taunting him for some reason; perhaps she felt that taunting was normal, and she was desperate to get back to normal with him.

“Whatever. We can finish the book by then if you like. I’m pretty fast with books, faster than you, I’m sure. But if you can’t handle that much,” Spike taunted back. He was a fast reader, English being his best subject and reading being an enjoyable pastime for him. Being a strong student came naturally to him, an ability that seemed to contradict his bad boy appearance—not that he cared much what other people thought.

“Oh, yeah? Fine, we’ll finish the book by Monday and talk about it then. Study group for Calc and Physics is that day, so you can just hang afterwards, if you’re finished,” snapped Buffy.

“Fine. Try not to lose too much beauty sleep. You need as much as possible,” Spike bit.

Right then, the bell rang. Spike gathered his stuff up quickly and walked away without a second glance.

Buffy breathed deeply and tried not to let her emotions overwhelm her. For some reason, she felt like crying, like shaking, like falling into bed and hugging her stuffed pig until the stars came out. Watching herself around Spike had been exhausting, and his last words had just knifed into her, reminding her why she was never going to attract a guy like him. She grabbed her books and slowly walked out of the classroom.

***

Spike quickly strode down the hall and out the school building, jonesing for a cigarette. He needed something to calm his nerves; for whatever reason, he was ready to have some time away from Buffy Summers and her acidic tongue in that luscious mouth of hers. Climbing into his car, he drove directly to the bookstore to pick up the novel and start reading. He was eager to lose himself in another world, his present one being a little too complicated for him right now.

***

When she finally got home, Buffy reached into her bookbag and took out the novel for the project. There had only been one copy at the bookstore, and she wondered if Spike had been able to get a copy. Buffy looked at the title, remembering the conversation she had had with Spike about meeting and reading the book. Might as well get started, since I only have the weekend to read.

Opening the book, she read the first line out loud.

“It was inevitable: the scent of bitter almonds always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love.” Great, Buffy thought. How incredibly appropriate.

She flopped down on the bed, hugged her pig Mr. Gordo, and dove into the alluring words.

Ch. 5: Behind Blue Eyes

"So, Buffy, are you excited about your birthday coming up?" Willow said as they walked to lunch together.

"What's to be excited about? Wondering what terrible disaster will hit me this year? I would skip my birthday totally—I would—if I could just get the presents on a different day," Buffy said morosely. On her birthday last year she had slipped in the lunchroom in front of everyone, earning her the nickname Puffy Buffy from the way her skirt had flown up and shown everyone her granny panties from laundry day, only exacerbated by her monthly friend's appearance. All in all, it was a day she wished she could strike from everyone's memory.

"But Buffy, aren't you even slightly curious about our surprise? I mean, you're as eager as the next guy when it comes to gifts. Don't you wanna know even a little?" Willow said, bouncing a little in the energy used to keep the secret. "And you know that Anya is one of the main brains behind this whole thing. I'd be worried if I were you," Willow whispered in a last ditch effort to garner Buffy's curiosity.

"Well, that does worry me a little. But there are so many other things on my plate right now. Like the fact that I have to do the book project with Spike!" Buffy said his name with whispered frustration. "And I just don't know how to deal with that." She looked at the food being served with disgust before picking up a salad and an apple.

"I don't understand. Last year you would've killed to be partnered with him. And now you seem all fluster-y. Why the weirdness?" Willow asked while balancing a tray of mystery meat. They walked towards their routine lunch table.

"I just—I mean, it's one thing to fantasize and daydream about those things. But in my life? It never goes the way I plan. I always say something stupid and then act mean, and then he's mean, and then I just want to cry or hide, but instead I'm mean again…it's really a vicious cycle beyond my control. I just don't want things to be all screwed up, in the way that I normally screw things up." She pouted, mulling over her situation.

"Cheer up, Buffy. It's your birthday this weekend!"

"Yes, it is!" Xander said with flourish as he approached and then sat next to his girls. "And we can't miss an exciting episode of Buffy birthday blunders. What is on the agenda for the weekend?" While waiting for the answer, he began munching on fries.

"You guys are going to meet us at the Bronze at 8. And you should already know this, because I sent out e-vites 3 weeks ago, Xander," Willow chastised.

"Willow, you can't really expect me to plan that far in advance. Anyway, I'm FleXander—give me a time and I'll be there. No worries." Xander slid down the lunch bench as Spike and Oz joined them. "You guys are in for this weekend at the Bronze, right?"

"Pretty hard to miss, since we're playing that night," said Spike as he began to pick at his lunch. "What is this, anyway?"

"I think it's supposed to be chicken. Willow, are we still up for the big surprise for Buffy's birthday?" Oz asked, his face completely masked, despite Willow's expressive gestures behind Buffy's back.

"Oh, yes, Buffy's surprise. Don't tell anybody, especially not Buffy," she said with huge smile on her face.

"Okay, I'm curious. You win," Buffy said with a sigh. "I just hope last year's birthday is a thing of the past."

"Of course, Puffy Buffy!" Xander said, poking her in the shoulder. Spike chuckled while Xander basked in the attention.

"Gee, you're so sweet," Buffy said sarcastically.

"Xander, shut up," Willow said, slapping his shoulder. "This year's birthday is going to be great. Really, Buffy." Willow squeezed Buffy's shoulders in reassurance. "Now, let's go finish our day so that the weekend can begin!" She got up and threw her trash away. "Who's ready for Calculus?"

***

Oz began tuning his bass as Spike set up the rest of the mikes for rehearsal. Satisfied with the tone, he nodded to Spike to start the music.

"Wait, tell me again what we're doing tomorrow night? Something about Buffy's birthday?"

"Yeah, Willow wants us to dedicate a song to her—and she really likes that song you wrote. "Love is a Fallacy" is the official title, I think. I believe "Cecily Fallacy" is what we called it after in honor of its origin."

Devon splashed the cymbal to highlight Oz's joke, since Oz didn't do much with the delivery. "Yeah, man—you were all dopey and shit after she played you."

"Yeah, well, I'm over it now. She likes that song? I'm surprised. I thought she'd go for something a little sappier."

"Man, that song is sappy. Just because you talk about that fallacy shit, there's still that line in the end about true love and all that romantic stuff the girls seem to love so much," Devon said with a smirk. "But we haven't played that song in a while, so that should be first on the playlist for tonight's rehearsal."

"What? You're being organized about tonight? What's her name, and what time is she coming tomorrow?" Spike said, teasing their drummer playboy.

"Her name's Faith. She's new, so don't any of you get any ideas. I got dibs."

"Actually, I already met her. And she was quite the flirt—couldn't resist my charms I suppose. I'm not interested—she's not really my type—but she did try a little with me. So don't go all evil on me if she happens to look my way."

"Damn, Spike. Can't you leave a few for the rest of us? Now what am I going to do?" Devon sighed loudly, exaggerating his pain. "I guess I'll just have to find me another gal."

"No, man—go for it. I'll just tell her I'm not interested, which is true. Pals before gals all the way."

"Now that our philosophy has been stated, are we ready to play?" said Oz.

"Whenever you're ready, Dev."

Devon began the beat on the quiet yet pulsing beat of the song, and the boys soon lost themselves in creating music.

***

Love is a fallacy
Misleading analogy
Lose my identity
Till I'm persuaded to nothing

Love is a fallacy
Trick me of sanity
Illogical clarity
Till I'm deceived into knowing

But I know you're waiting
With your clear eyes gazing
Knowledge is truth is power is love
And I know you're saving me…

Eventually

***

The Bronze was crowded, filled with people dancing, talking, flirting, laughing—but Buffy only heard one thing. She mouthed the words to her favorite song and swayed to the music as she gazed at Spike singing into the mike, his eyes closed in intensity. The first time she had heard this song, she had imagined him singing those last lines to her and she to him, and her heart had fluttered the entire time. When he had spoken the dedication to the crowd, wishing her a happy birthday, she almost felt she was dreaming. She sighed contentedly.

"Now that's what I like to hear," Willow said, satisfied with her efforts. "Look at me and tell me this isn't the best birthday so far. I mean, you look gorgeous, and we had fun getting all girly, right?"

Willow and Anya had gotten Buffy a day at the spa for the three of them, and they had played up to their girlyness through pedicures, manicures, massages, and a professional makeover. Buffy stood with confidence, her hair straightened and styled, her eyes smoky, her lips painted with glossamer. This amazing day was topped by a new dress from her mom, the little black job she had been eying at the mall. Her figure was finally free of baggy sweatshirts and shapeless jeans; overall, Buffy was almost unrecognizable—and that made her happy.

"Yeah, I will totally admit that this day has been fabulous. I can't believe you guys convinced my mom to buy this dress—and I can't believe you convinced me to wear it. You know this isn't really my kind of thing…as much as I love the way it looks," Buffy said, drawing her friends close for a quick hug. "I couldn't have asked for a better day."

"Well, we were tired of seeing you mope about no boys, and you clearly weren't using all your assets. If I had that ass, I'd show it off. So that's what you're going to do from now on," Anya said with determination. "And we'll just see if the boys don't notice you."

"Anya, remember what we talked about? This new look is for Buffy and her self-esteem, not for the boys. If they happen to notice, it's because of her newfound confidence in herself, not because she's revealing more skin," Willow said patiently, obviously repeating earlier words.

"They'll notice because they're boys. But if it makes you feel better, I'll agree with you." Anya nodded her head pertly. "I'm off to see if Xander has my drink yet. You two keep talking about your self-esteem and not about boys." Anya promptly left the table.

"Willow, don't worry. I'm not going to change my whole life to get some boys to notice me. I won't say that I'll deny them, but I won't make that my goal. Okay? Is that good enough for you?" Buffy asked with a grin.

"I just want to make sure you feel comfortable with all these things, because boys are often temporary things, and I don't want you to feel your appearance is your only attractive quality, because it's not."

"Apparently I don't even have that, based on my track record. But let's not dwell on that. It's my birthday, and I'll dance if I want to. Come on, Wills. Dance with me. We'll make all the boys drool." Buffy bounded out of her chair and dragged Willow onto the dance floor.

***

He watched her dance with abandon, her happiness sparkling through her eyes and glittering her body. She was obviously having fun, paying no heed to all the others around and dancing for herself alone, but there were moments of undulation, of sensual gyrating that simply called out to him, to all those around, crying out for someone to join her. He wanted to be that one.

***

Buffy felt good. The music was sensual and familiar, running across her body like lover's hands. Closing her eyes, she let those hands dictate her movements, completely letting go of her reservations and insecurities and losing herself in the song. She knew she looked good; there had been good money spent to guarantee that she looked good. She was surrounded by her friends with the voice of Spike licking her ear; life couldn't get much better.

***

He sang into the mike, letting the words drop from his lips. Squinting into the audience, he saw Buffy and her circle of friends, dancing to his words, his guitar. Her movements reminded him of their earlier confrontation, and he felt a twitch lower. He smiled slightly as he continued to sing, enjoying the scene before him. Maybe tonight he'd be able to dance with her.

***

"Do you guys want anything? My treat," said Xander. "And you should take advantage of me now, since I'm braving the mass of people who like to drink when there's a lull in the music." The girls laughed and spouted their preferences. He quickly took the orders and headed over to the bar.

"Hey, Xan, how are you and the ladies liking the music?" Spike asked as he took a swig of water, on break between sets.

"You know the girls when it comes to guys with guitars. I'll never forgive myself for not learning," Xander said, patting Spike on the back. "They love you, and they want you to play that Fallacy song one more time. What is it with girls and repeat? Don't they get sick of the same song being played over and over again?" Xander shook his head.

"Maybe we'll do that, just for the birthday girl. How's she enjoying herself—better than last year?" Spike asked, glancing over at the group.

"Ah, so you noticed her tonight, did you? Yeah, she and the girls did this whole beauty thing. I think they all look pretty damn hot. Anya the most, of course," he said quickly. Xander sidled in closer. "You think Buffy's cute, don't ya?"

"I've always thought she was cute, but tonight she looks hot. I just seem to bring out the worst in her and vice versa," Spike said, watching Buffy laugh and chat animatedly with her friends. "Seriously hot tonight, though I wouldn't mind her with a little less makeup."

"Yeah, well, maybe things won't be as bad tonight. She's having a great time. Go ask her to dance or something when your set is done. Anya's been on my case to get you to date someone; she's ready to do the double date thing." Xander sighed, thinking about all the other things Anya had been on his case for lately.

"It's a good thing she loves you. I can imagine she'd be quite the enemy if you ever got on her bad side. Anyway, I think I'm ready for our set to be over. Gettin' a little tired of being in the spotlight. I'll see you later," he said, finishing his water and heading towards the stage again. He glanced over at the girls one last time and made his decision.

***

"Well, I'm tired. Dancing is great fun but also great pain, especially in these shoes. I'm smiling today, but I'm not sure about tomorrow," said Buffy as she slid onto a stool and out of her shoes.

"But the night is young! And they haven't really played any slow songs yet! And we haven't eaten the birthday cake of chocolatey goodness!" Willow cried out, worried that her detailed schedule was about to be trampled on.

"Don't worry, Willow, geez. Buffy's just making small talk. We're not going to leave without getting some male goodness—at least, I'm not. So calm down." Anya took a sip from her drink. "And I wish you guys would get with the goodness, too, because I want another couple to do the whole double date thing and Oz is not really the talkative type—sorry Willow. Buffy, why don't you go ask Spike to dance when he's done? He and Xander are close, and then we could go out."

Buffy's cheeks flushed, and she quickly glanced at Spike, who was holding onto his mike tightly while his voice buzzed through the air. "I don't think Spike would dance with me, and I'm not really up to making this birthday end on a sad note." Buffy shook her head, trying to stop the fantasy of dancing with Spike from developing into a dvd for her private collection.

"Who knows? Maybe he'll ask you to dance? Tonight has been pretty awesome. Let's get that cake and make a wish," said Willow, the ever-hopeful optimist.

"Thanks, Wills," said Buffy, giving her a quick hug.

Quickly, the cake appeared before her, one single candle snug in the waves of chocolate icing. Buffy closed her eyes, pictured clear blue eyes, and blew.

***

"Thanks for the great night. Until next time," said Spike, officially ending the set. "Finally," he muttered, starting to clean up the equipment. As canned music began to play, he quickly gathered the band's stuff. When the last mike was packed away, he wiped his dusty hands on his jeans and looked up to find Buffy. At that moment, a slow song came on. He smiled and headed towards her.

***

"Oh, I love this song," said Buffy quietly. She started shredding a napkin, refusing to search the crowds to see where Spike had gone after finishing his set. She tried not to give in to the song's haunting allure when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder. Her heart stopped beating, and she slowly turned around with hope in her eyes.

"May I have this dance?"

But the eyes were brown.
 

Ch. 6: Not Better than Ice Cream

"Um, sure," Buffy said. "I'm Buffy," she introduced as he led her onto the dance floor.

"My name's Angel," he said as they began to sway to the music. "I just transferred to Sunnydale U, so I just started my second year. What about you?"

"Actually, I'm a senior in high school," Buffy said, slightly embarrassed. She couldn't help feeling a little disappointed that it wasn't Spike asking, but she had never been approached by a total stranger. She decided to back in that information and not think about Spike. She looked into Angel's brown eyes and decided that he was a little cute, though not really her type—thin, blonde, blue-eyed, hot. She sighed softly and looked up at him again. "Are you new to California?"

"Yeah, actually I'm from the East Coast so I don't really know a lot about how things are out here. So, maybe if you want to show me around, I'd really appreciate it." Angel gazed into her hazel eyes, thinking about how gorgeous this girl was. He was a little surprised that she was only in high school, her clothes and makeup giving the appearance of someone more mature, but he was only a year or two older, and there was something about high school girls that made them rather delectable.

***

He was too late. Some tall forehead had already asked her to dance, and so he was now without a target, directionless. He heard a sultry voice behind him.

"You wanna pretend you were coming for me? Because I'm willing to dance if you are," Faith said, eyeing him coyly.

"Faith, haven't seen you around in a while. Decided school wasn't your thing?" Spike replied, easing into his cocky side.

"Well, sometimes Biology needs to be little more physical—more field work, less book work. You know what I'm saying?" She moved towards him and lightly moved her hand down his chest. "But if you're willing to tutor me, I'm a really good student."

Spike caught her hand. "Actually, I think my bandmate is a little more interested in tutoring you." He looked over at Devon, drinking a beer moodily.

"Who's to say I can't have more than one teacher?" Faith said saucily.

Spike chuckled. "You are something. Can I buy you a drink?"

"Sure thing," she said, linking her arm in his.

***

"Are you sure you don't mind hanging out with a high school girl?" Buffy said, her insecurity getting the best of her, her new clothes and makeup starting to wear off in their confidence. She bit her lip nervously and looked down while continuing to move to the music.

The effect of her lowered lashes and bit lip was quite enticing, and Angel had to stop himself from leaning in and tasting her. "I don't mind at all, especially when that high school girl is as beautiful as you," he said, hoping his words didn't come out like the line that it was.

Buffy looked up quickly, her eyes widened by the compliment. She wasn't used to hearing such words, and suddenly her dance partner didn't seem so dorky or wide-shouldered. Suddenly his eyes seemed like chocolate instead of dirt, his hair like soft tufts of grass rather than hardened brambles. Suddenly he seemed pretty perfect.

"You think I'm beautiful?" she said shyly, looking deep into his eyes for some confirmation.

He smiled, knowing his words had worked their charm. "I know you're beautiful." He pulled her close and felt her little heart beating rapidly. He was beginning to like Sunnydale.

***

"So, tell me what happened! You ended up dancing with him consecutively, so I didn't get a chance to ask at the Bronze. It's a good thing we're doing this slumber party thing, because I don't know if I could've held out till tomorrow," Willow said, plopping onto the sleeping bag next to Buffy, her hands filled with Oreos and ice cream.

"Well, it was weird, you know? I wasn't really expecting anyone to ask me to dance—"

"Hoping for Spike, though," Willow interrupted. She looked into her pint of Chunky Monkey to avoid the evil glare Buffy was giving her.

"You don't have to rub it in," Buffy said, lightly pushing her friend.

"I know. I'm just teasing. Sorry, keep telling your story."

"Yes, tell us more about this Angel," Anya said, returning from the bathroom and helping herself to a pint of Cherry Garcia.

"So, when he asked me to dance, I just agreed because people never ask me to dance. I didn't think he was all that good-looking or anything when I first saw him. But then…" she trailed off, playing with the spoon in her Mint Chocolate Cookie. "He said I was beautiful."

"Oh my god, Buffy! That's huge! And didja blush and say, 'Thank you, kind sir.' Didja?" Willow said excitedly, her green eyes huge with glee.

Buffy grinned happily. "I definitely blushed. No one's ever said I was beautiful before. And then we danced some more, and talked some more, and it was just, well, nice. I'm supposed to show him around the town a little, since he just moved to the area." She grabbed an Oreo and began licking the cream center. "Do you think I should be worried that he's a college guy? I mean, I have no idea what he's like beyond what I saw today."

"Well, don't go giving away your v status or anything," Willow said seriously. "I'm serious," she said in response to Buffy's eye-rolling.

"Unless he's really good at giving you pleasure. Although he looks kind of hulking, which might make sex a little uncomfortable for you, since you're so much smaller than he is," Anya said thoughtfully, munching on a cookie.

"I just met the guy. Geez. I've never even kissed a guy before—what makes you guys think I'm going to go all the way with a guy I just met?"

"You didn't even think he was cute until he said you were beautiful. Don't you think that says something?" Willow said perceptively.

"That's only because I was hoping it was Spike. I've had this crush on him for years, and he's never looked twice at me. I think this is a good opportunity to move on, actually have the possibility of having a boyfriend for once in my sad existence. Can't you be happy for me?" Buffy whined, not wanting to dwell on the attraction that she wished were stronger between her and Angel.

"Of course we're happy for you!" Willow cried out. She nudged Anya to agree with her.

"Oh, yes. We're ecstatic," said Anya in a monotone. "He just looks a little weird to me."

Willow gave her an evil glare and continued. "He's definitely cute. You should totally take him around. Just don't hurt your hand on his gelled hair," Willow said, her grave tone belying the mirth dancing in her eyes.

The girls then burst into laughter, remembering the thickness and gross amount of gel Angel had put in his hair. They continued chatting and giggling and then proceeded to eat through all the remaining pints of ice cream and bags of Oreos scattered around the sleeping bags.

***

At the same time…

"So what happened to asking Buffy to dance?" Xander said as he furiously pressed the buttons to kill the evil forces coming at him in throngs.

"I was going to but then that poofy looking wanker asked her first, and then they pretty much stayed together for the rest of the night," Spike replied casually, more focused on wielding his sword to beat off the bad guys.

"Oh yeah, I heard Buffy introducing him to Willow. I think he's a college man. Watch it!" Xander yelled as Spike swiped him with his blade.

"Sorry 'bout that. College man, ey? Well, I don't like the looks of him. Just seems too involved with himself and his hair to see much of anyone else." Spike threw down the pad in defeat. "Stupid game."

Xander joined him in tossing the controls. "Yeah, well, looks like you're not in the game this time. But who knows what next week will bring?" Xander stood up and stretched. "I'm beat. I feel like I should play more since this is one of the few times I'm not hanging with Anya after bronzing. But I'm so tired I'm starting to see the Tetris blocks dropping in my mind." He yawned loudly.

"Man, we haven't played Tetris in years. You're still seeing those blocks?" Spike said as he stifled a yawn and scratched his abs.

"Yup, something about fatigue and late night video games. Always brings the same memory to mind. Anyway, I'm gonna head out, get some sleep before we get together for tomorrow's study group. You're going, right?"

"Of course. Can't let you idiots flunk out of Physics without my help, right?" he said snidely.

"It is completely unfair that you're so smart. There should be a rule or something against people like you getting straight As." Xander picked up his keys and headed towards the door.

"What can I say? I'm just perfect. Oof—" he said as Xander playfully jabbed him in the stomach.

"It's a good thing I still work out. Gotta have something to offer the group, even if it is just punching you whenever you get too annoying. I'll see you then," Xander said.

"Later," Spike said, waving goodbye. He walked back into the house and up to his room. Opening the window, he grabbed a cigarette and settled into the window seat. Sitting in the dark, looking out at the sky, he recalled seeing Buffy dancing with that poofter. He sighed, wondering what they had talked about, why she had blushed. He had spent a good portion of the night watching her, even while he had held a conversation with Faith. Faith, who had made it clear she was interested, was just too forward for him. He tended to go for girls who didn't need to keep showing off how strong and independent and confident they were—girls who simply were those things. Granted, his track record made him out to be rather misinformed about girls, but he still knew what he liked, even if he was wrong about the girls he thought he saw it in. Now Cecily, she had had confidence. So much, in fact, that she had no problem leading him on and then dropping him with as much humiliation and condescension as was possible for a girl, or so he thought. What he had perceived to be wit was really just snobbery, and what he had assumed were layers were actually just facades, and the genuine Cecily was not as beautiful as her exterior.

He exhaled slowly, thinking about his next girlfriend. Dru. Dru had been strong and confident in her eccentric ways, but she definitely hadn't been independent. She'd leaned on him so much that it became suffocating, and eventually he'd had to call things off. As much as he had fallen in love with her, he couldn't stand the way she'd wanted to consume him.

That had been a year ago, and he had only recently allowed himself to look at girls again, almost afraid of being devoured in the same way. He still was looking for that quiet strength and independence, that wit and intelligent manner, a beauty inside sparking the outside. He thought about Buffy again, how she'd looked tonight, how they'd been interacting lately. She had always struck him as a little too self-conscious, too defensive, too insecure. But this past year she had changed a little—or maybe he was just seeing her differently. The way she danced that day in her room—for some reason those movements refused to leave him. He was captivated by the luxurious power that seemed rooted in her hips, the intensity that seemed to radiate from her eyes, even when they were closed. He felt that underneath all her biting sarcasm and defense mechanisms, there was a girl of strength, intelligence, and sensuality—and he wanted to be the one to uncover it. It seemed silly that a simply dance could intrigue him so much, but he could not shake its allure.

He took a last puff of his cigarette and then went to the bathroom to wash up. Finishing by a cool splash of water to his face, he threw off his clothes and plopped onto his bed, letting the night air wash over him. He banished the thoughts of Buffy's dance partner and focused on Buffy. Closing his eyes, he let his dreams overtake him.
 

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