Blue Horizons
Chapter Thirty-Two

“Dawn, can you pass the potatoes, please?”

Hank’s question was the first sound to interrupt the sullen silence at the dinner table since the meal had begun. It was rare for Hank to be in town for any length of time, but when he was there, he still expected to have dinner cooked for him and a family meal, despite the impending divorce proceedings. His soon-to-be ex-wife didn’t seem to have the guts to complain. Dawn just wished her mother would finally kick her father out for good. As bad as things were when he was gone, they were even worse when he was present.

Not looking up from where she was sulking, Dawn shoved the potatoes in his direction.

If Hank noticed the rudeness of the gesture, he didn’t show it. “So, pumpkin,” he said in a cheerful voice that was grossly inappropriate to the situation, “how’s school going?”

“Fine.” Dawn wouldn’t have responded, but that probably meant that she’d get more attention. And all she really wanted to do right now was finish dinner, get out of the house, and go find her friends.

“You have good teachers?” he pressed.

“Sure,” she grumbled.

“And your classes?”

“Fine.”

“How about cheerleading practice?”

Dawn blinked. No, there was no way in hell he was really that clueless, was there? “I’m not on the cheerleading squad,” she glared at him. “That was Elizabeth, not me.”

Hank frowned. “You mean Buffy?” he corrected.

Dawn felt the anger start to build within her. “Her name is Elizabeth,” she insisted. “Maybe if you ever actually bothered to pay attention to either of us, you’d know these things.”

Anger flashed in Hank’s eyes at that. “I work very hard,” he hissed, “to give you girls a life worthy of your status. And, really, you don’t even have the same status that Buffy does, so maybe you should be a bit more grateful that I’ve let you into this world.”

“Hank-” Dawn’s mother began hesitantly.

“I don’t want this life!” Dawn practically screeched, leaping up out of her seat. She snatched up the silver - and very expensive - decanter from the table and threw it across the room violently. “We don’t want this life! What we want is a real dad!”

“You want to be poor, then?” Hank bit back snidely. “You want to be a commoner? You ungrateful little brat!”

“Is money all you ever think about?!” Dawn shot back. “’Cause there are a lot of things that are more important!”

Dawn’s mother winced and lay a hand on her daughter’s arm, attempting to calm her down until this blew out of proportion.

Dawn quickly snatched it back. “I hope you enjoy playing with your newest slut,” she hissed dangerously, tears in her eyes. “I hope she makes you miserable just like everything else in your pathetic life does. Because you don’t feel anything. You’re just a heartless monster…”

“You will show some respect for me, young lady,” Hank’s face was burning with rage. “And you do not talk about my fiancée that way!”

“ ‘Fiancée’?” Dawn repeated with a snort. “In case no one ever bothered to inform you, you’re already married!”

“That’s it!” Hank shouted at the top of his lungs. “Up to your room, young lady!”

Dawn crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t have to listen to you,” she insisted.

“I am your father!”

“No, you’re not,” she shot right back. “You don’t know the first thing about being a father. You’ve never been a father to me or Elizabeth.”

“You are in so much trouble,” he said angrily, stalking around the table and grabbing her arm roughly.

She tried to pull away, but his grip was too tight. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. “You’re hurting me,” she whimpered.

Her mother was on her feet in an instant at that. “Let her go,” she insisted sternly.

Hank cast her an annoyed look. “I can see now just how spoiled you girls are,” he informed Dawn dangerously, loosing his grip so that it was no longer painful but refusing to let her go. “I suppose it’s my own fault. I’ve been too lenient on you, let you get away with too much. Well, I’m not going to let whatever silly notions have infected your sister’s mind to get to you, too. It’s about time you both stopped throwing away the lives I’ve given you.”

“Maybe we want our own lives.” Dawn felt the rage boil over within her. “Maybe we want something more than your shallow existence.”

“You are a Summers!” Hank exclaimed, outraged. “You should be honored to bear such a name of success!”

“God, medieval much?” Dawn snorted with a roll of her eyes and a toss of her hair.

“We are through having this discussion, young lady.” Hank yanked on her arm, pulling her over to the staircase. “You are going to your room, and you are going to stay there until you’ve learned some respect.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Dawn dug her heels into the carpet, making his task as difficult as possible.

“Hank!” Her mother ran after them. “Be careful!”

“You’ve been spoiling her, too,” he accused bitterly. “None of you appreciate me. And you wonder why I’m leaving?”

Dawn’s mother’s jaw opened wide as if she’d just been slapped. “You arrogant bastard!” she screamed. “How dare you?! Do you have any idea how much I’ve put up with-”

“If you were actually as good a wife as you claim to be, you would’ve put up with so much more!” he snapped back. Dawn still struggling in one arm, he managed to shove her into her room. “Now, stay put where you belong!” he said angrily.

“You’re pathetic!” Dawn screeched at the top of her lungs. “You don’t know anything about having a family. You’re just a complete loser. Spike’s parents would never-” She froze abruptly, eyes widening when she realized what she just said.

Hank’s eyes narrowed. “Who on earth is Spike?!” he demanded.

“Oops…” Dawn’s face paled.

* * *

“Go, Anya!” Devon cheered, clapping his hands together.

The others at the table added to the applause as well.

Anya managed a small smile before collapsing in the chair Xander held out for her. “Thanks,” she agreed. “Long time, no see.” Her eyes alighted on Cordelia, and her smile widened. “Longer time, no see.”

Cordelia made a humphing noise as Xander sat down between the two of them. “I helped watch over you while you were sick,” she insisted. “You were even conscious twice while I was there.”

“There’s a difference between ‘conscious’ and ‘aware of my surroundings’,” Anya countered.

“Just like there’s a difference between ‘oblivious’ and ‘rude’?” Cordy snarked.

Anya grinned. “God, I missed you last semester.”

Cordy smiled as well. “I would hug you,” she announced, “but you’ve probably got all sorts of nasty germs that I don’t want to pick up.”

“As opposed to all the nasty germs that were in my room when you watched over me?” Anya pointed out.

“Held a handkerchief over my mouth the entire time,” Cordy retorted.

“Shall I sneeze on you, then?”

“You’ll have to sneeze on Xander first.”

Anya snorted. “Stuck up prude.”

“Capitalist bitch.”

“Prom queen.”

“Cheap slut.”

They both laughed in sudden unison.

“God, I missed you,” Anya smiled.

“Me, too,” Cordelia agreed. “How about this? We hug through Xander. Make a couple of his wet dreams come true?”

Anya nodded in agreement, and Xander suddenly found himself the hug buffer between Cordy and Anya’s disease. His embarrassment at Cordy’s last astute comment washed away, and an idiotic grin crossed his face at being hugged by two such beautiful women. Wet dream, indeed…

“Are they always like this?” he wondered with a wistful sigh when they both broke off their hug.

“Pretty much,” Tara agreed with a sly smile. “Although half the time they’re throwing stuff as well.”

“General rule of thumb,” Devon added. “Instant death comes to anyone who tries to sit between Anya and Cordy. And Spike. Or, at least, death to their clothing.”

Xander looked down at his Hawaiian shirt. “Somehow I don’t think it would be a tragedy if this shirt died,” he pointed out.

“More like a blessing,” Cordy agreed with a shake of her head. “You look even gayer than Spike did that one time we made him wear my dress.”

“Spike in a dress?” Xander laughed aloud at the image.

“It was great,” Anya agreed. “He does very, very stupid things when he’s drunk. We took many pictures.”

“And are currently holding them over him for blackmail,” Cordy agreed. “What was the ransom?” She frowned as she tried to remember the forgotten detail.

“Five-hundred twenty-three dollars and forty-seven cents,” Anya provided. “And, he becomes our massage boy until graduation.”

“He still hasn’t caved, has he?” Cordy frowned.

“No,” Anya sighed wistfully, “and Elizabeth will never let us get away with the massage part now…”

Snickers spread between the two of them again.

“OK, I am so lost.” Xander blinked several times.

“We all are, too,” Tara assured him. “Don’t bother trying to figure the three of them when they get all weird and loopy. You’ll just get a very bad headache.”

“Someone speaks from experience?” Devon inquired.

Tara gave him a long-suffering nod.

“Where is Spike anyway?” Anya demanded, scanning the table intently as if he would miraculously appear if she just thought about it hard enough. “He called me Anyanka a total of thirty-three times while I was sick, and I was too tired to respond. I’m thinking of suing him for harassment and emotional trauma.”

“He and Elizabeth are staying at his house this weekend,” Tara provided. “For Valentine’s Day.”

“Isn’t it sooo sweet?” Cordy said in a squeaky voice, making little kissy faces.

“At least I don’t have to listen to them having orgasms,” Anya shrugged.

“They didn’t disturb you while you were sick, did they?” Tara asked, concerned.

Anya sipped at a spoonful of her soup. “Actually, they did a surprisingly good job of keeping it down,” she conceded. “But that doesn’t absolve Spike from the other forms of emotional trauma he inflicted upon me. Lawsuit, here I come…”

“I thought you calculated that Spike doesn’t have enough money for a lawsuit to be worthwhile?” Cordy inquired.

“I’m assuming that he and Elizabeth will get married in the near future, adding her inheritance to the pot to be won,” Anya responded.

“What if they have a good pre-nup?” Cordelia pointed out.

“I’m trying to find a crafty way of allowing them to let me write their pre-nup,” Anya explained wisely.

“Should I feel concerned that she’s trying to rob two of my best friends blind?” Xander wondered.

“I’m trying to rob everyone blind,” Anya assured him with a quick pat to the hand. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing personal.”

Tara laughed at that. “I take it you’re feeling back to your old self, then?” she observed.

Anya nodded. “I’m now able to remain conscious for up to eight hours straight,” she agreed. “And I’ve already contacted all my professors to find out how to make up all the work I missed.”

Tara sighed. “That’s got to be a lot of work,” she said sympathetically. “You’ll be fighting with Willow over who has the least free time.”

“Actually, it’s not too bad,” Anya shrugged. “I missed a couple of review weeks for the material in econ 120s, so I’m not actually that far behind. I fully intend to be caught up by eighth week.”

“Just don’t overtax yourself,” Tara advised. “You don’t want to have a relapse.”

“Overtaxing equals orgasms,” Cordelia couldn’t help but tease. “So, none of those.”

Anya and Xander both sulked before turning back to their food…

* * *

Willow jumped in surprise when a hand rested on her shoulder. Holding her hand over her heart to steady its erratic thumping and gasping for breath, she swiveled around on the lab stool to see Oz as the source of her recent trauma. “Don’t do that!” she exclaimed, finally beginning to calm down.

“Sorry.” Oz shifted uncomfortably on his feet, and Willow frowned. She’d never known Oz to be the nervous type, but right now he looked like the poster boy for anxiety disorder…well, really, really mellow anxiety disorder, at least. The circles under his eyes indicated that he hadn’t been getting nearly enough sleep, and his messed hair and rumpled clothes hinted at the duration of this concern.

“Are you all right?” she asked hesitantly. She hadn’t exactly seen Oz in the past month or so, what with all her work, so she didn’t know how permanent this situation was.

“Can I talk to you?” he requested. His eyes darted around to the other three students in the lab. “Alone.”

Willow bit her lip at how this would make her report even more late, but this seemed to be an official RA thing. Her prof would have to understand that. “Yeah, sure,” she agreed. “We can go in one of the empty classrooms.” She jangled her key ring for the bio building up for emphasis.

The walk down the hallway was made in complete silence. And not just ‘normal Oz’ complete silence. More like ‘impending doom’ complete silence. Willow began to grow steadily more worried as she unlocked a random classroom and they went inside.

Checking to make sure the door was firmly closed behind them, Oz breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m in really serious trouble,” he admitted, a distressed expression on his face.

Willow sat down on one of the desks, facing him. “What happened?” she demanded, concerned.

“You know Veruca, right?”

She nodded.

“Well, we’ve been hanging out a lot lately. Or, we were,” he corrected. “Way too much.”

“And this is…bad?” Willow guessed.

“She seemed OK at first. A little weird, but OK.”

OK, Oz was rambling now. That had to be one of the seven signs of the apocalypse. “Oz, what’s going on?” she demanded.

He sighed. “Last weekend we went to this party and… Well, I got a little drunk and a little high. I kind of don’t exactly remember what happened. But the next morning I wake up next to Veruca in a basement, and she tells me…” He trailed off, actually embarrassed for once.

“You slept with her?” Willow provided.

He nodded. “But that’s not it. She said… You heard about what happened to Professor Simmonds’ house?”

Willow nodded numbly. The burglary/arson had been in all the local and campus papers, as well as on all the news channels.

“She’s says that we’re the ones who did it,” he admitted nervously.

“Oh my god…” Willow was stunned speechless. It was too impossible to be true. Surely, not Oz…

“Willow?” Oz asked anxiously.

“Oh my god,” she repeated, still stunned. “Why? How? Professor Simmonds is so cool…”

“I know,” Oz agreed sadly. “Apparently, he found out that Veruca had cheated on one of her papers and she wanted revenge. I was a bit too shocked to fully pay attention, really.”

“And you helped her?” Willow still couldn’t believe it.

“Apparently, I threw the brick through the window that got us in, and I helped her carry some of the stuff we stole,” he agreed.

“Why?” she repeated.

“I don’t know!” he exclaimed, frustrated. “I don’t even remember any of this. But she’s really good with the suggestibility. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that she was capable of tricking me while I admittedly wasn’t exactly in control of all my faculties.”

Willow nodded numbly. “This is bad,” she decided. “This is really, really bad…”

“Yeah, I sort of figured that.” Oz managed his usual wry smile.

“What are you going to do?” Willow wanted to know.

“See, that’s the problem,” he sighed. “I’m torn. I know I should turn myself in, but…”

Willow nodded sympathetically. “If you explain how it happened…” she began. “I mean, it sounds like it was all Veruca’s idea.”

“I don’t want to go to jail.” His voice sounded small, frightened.

“Maybe I should talk with Catherine…” Willow said thoughtfully. Off of Oz’s look, she clarified, “She’s the head of housing. I’ll give her a generic, anonymous situation and ask her what would be the best way to handle it. Does that work for you?”

He nodded. “It’s better than nervously wandering about campus, wondering if I left behind some evidence that the police will use to find me.”

Willow gave him a reassuring smile. “We’ll find a way to keep you out of jail,” she promised, her resolve face firmly in place.

He gave her a quick nod, his expression already more relaxed now that he’s finally gotten that off of his chest. “You finishing up in the lab?” he inquired.

She shook her head. “Nah. I haven’t eaten all day. Wanna head to dinner with me?”

“Sure,” he agreed, and together they left the bio building and headed for Westing Hall.

What they didn’t see was Veruca watching them from the far side of the courtyard. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Willow laugh at something Oz said before she slipped between the buildings, vanishing into the night…

* * *

“God, you’re such a freak!” Elizabeth giggled, batting away the Washcloth Monster that was trying to nibble at her throat.

Spike rolled his eyes, though the effect was rather lost since she couldn’t see him from where he was sitting behind her in the large tub. The hand covered by a green washcloth so that it looked vaguely like a gaping mouth turned back to face her, and the Washcloth Monster dove in for another attack. “Take it back,” he teased, holding her steady in his lap as she thrashed so that the sudsy water wouldn’t splash onto the floor. “Jus’ take it back and ‘ll call off my evil minion. Or else…” The Washcloth Monster snapped its fuzzy green jaws twice menacingly.

She giggled and squirmed some more in his arms, loving the feel of their bodies pressed together, wet and warm and covered with sweet-smelling bubbles. “You are a freak, honey,” she informed him defiantly before she turned back to face him, her expression softening. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way…”

Their lips met in a brief kiss, and she turned in his arms so that she could run her hands up and down his chest, running hot soapy water over his bare flesh in the process. “Mmm,” she sighed, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder. “Remind me why we haven’t done this before?”

“’Cause Mum and Dad wander in an’ out of here all the time when they’re home?” he suggested.

She pouted. “You need your own personal bathtub,” she decided.

“Shall I get myself a Jacuzzi with that?” he teased. “A sauna?”

“Yeah,” she agreed with a smile, “and while you’re at it, an Olympic-sized pool would be nice…”

“We don’t need that much room,” he scoffed.

“Don’t we?” she asked coyly, twirling around her finger one of the strands of hair that had fallen loose from where she’d tied it up to keep it from getting too wet.

He smiled at that and leaned in to nibble on her lower lip.

She let him for a minute before pulling away and turning in his arms once more. “Much more comfortable this way,” she announced, sitting down between his legs once more and leaning back on his chest. Her hip relaxed now that it was no longer pressed uncomfortably into the porcelain.

He nodded in agreement, and the Washcloth Monster dissolved once more as he continued to scrub her body. “Don’t think I don’t remember what you got away with last night,” he teased good-naturedly.

Elizabeth was stumped at that. “Huh?” she inquired, hissing in delight when the washcloth ventured between her thighs.

“You were s’posed to tell me somethin’ about yourself that I din’t know,” he clarified.

“Oh, yeah,” she remembered, a sly smile creeping upon her face. “I guess we got a bit…distracted last night…”

He chuckled that deep, husky chuckle of his against the nape of her throat. “Unless you’re plannin’ on being distractin’ again, I wanna hear this,” he informed her.

She bit her lip, building up her courage before she turned to face him once more. Her eyes met his startlingly blue ones, and she made sure to hold his gaze as she began to speak. “I-” she began.

Bring!

They both groaned at the interruption.

Bring!

“Gotta get that,” he informed her. “Mum’s expectin’ a call…”

She shifted and allowed him to get up out of the bathtub, cursing at the horrible timing.

Bring!

“All right already!” Spike shouted at the offending telephone as he quickly toweled himself off. “’m coming.”

Elizabeth leaned back in the tub and happily watched his sexy ass as he ran out of the room to get the phone. She soon heard muffled words from the master bedroom and turned her attention to the bubble bath before her for entertainment while she waited for Spike to return.

She’d managed to create a rather amusing, vaguely bunny-shaped formation out of the bubbles by the time he returned. She greeted him with a smile…and then a frown when she noticed his worried expression and the cordless phone he still held in one hand.

“For you,” he provided. “’S the Nibblet.”

Unable to think of any reason why Dawn would call her here, Elizabeth took the phone. “Dawn, what’s up?” she asked, slightly alarmed.

Frantic teen-speech whispered from the receiver into Elizabeth’s ear.

Elizabeth blinked for a second, and then: “You told him what?!”

Blue Horizons
Chapter Thirty-Three

Elizabeth had been sitting in her and Willow’s old room, waiting anxiously, when the call had finally come. It had not been a fun weekend. Spike had been quite grouchy that his romantic plans had been all for naught, and Elizabeth had been acting as though there were a death sentence upon her. It didn’t help that after Dawn’s first, desperate call of warning, they’d been unable to get hold of her again. Apparently, the teen hadn’t been lying when she’d said that she’d had to sneak out of being grounded to make the call to Elizabeth.

Thus, when the phone finally rang, it was a welcome relief that this situation would finally be dealt with, while still the fulfillment of a deep-seated dread.

“Hi?” Elizabeth said into the receiver hesitantly.

“Buffy, is that you?” Hank didn’t sound happy. He sounded like he was about to make a hostile take-over.

Elizabeth suddenly wondered about the wisdom of not having Spike present for this. The comfort of his touch would undoubtedly have done her wonders. “Yeah, daddy, it’s me,” she agreed with false cheer.

“I’m surprised I didn’t get that roommate of yours,” Hank commented off-handedly. “Willa, or whatever.”

“Willow,” Elizabeth corrected, mildly annoyed despite the trouble she was in.

“And what kind of name is that, anyway?” he demanded. “Sounds like some flower-child hippie-”

“Her mom’s a woman’s right activist and political science professor,” Elizabeth corrected the misconception.

Hank really didn’t care. “Still, glad I finally found you in your room. Been working a lot lately, have we?”

“Midterms aren’t until right before spring break,” she informed him. “But, yeah, I’ve got a lot of readings, and-”

“How about that econ class you were taking?” Hank pressed.

Elizabeth bit her lip. Now, she’d never exactly told him she was taking econ, but it had been implied. “I, uh, kinda didn’t keep that class,” she admitted nervously.

There was silence on the other end of the line. “I see,” he said finally.

“It was just that there was this other class,” she hastened to explain, “and I’m already taking calculus, so I thought-”

“Did you?” Hank interrupted her. “Did you bother to think at all?”

Elizabeth’s face paled at that. “D-Daddy?” she began, her voice weak.

“I think we need to have a talk about your future, young lady,” Hank informed her in a stern tone. “Several things have come to my attention as of late, and I am not at all pleased with the way you’ve been carrying on.”

“B-But I’m doing really well!” Elizabeth insisted, almost in a panic. “I had perfect grades last semester!”

“Your grades are not the issue here,” Hank countered. “You’ve been behaving like a child, ignoring everything I’ve gone through for your own good and-”

“That’s not fair!” she cut him off with a petulant tone.

“You do not interrupt me, Buffy,” he informed her with a stern voice. “And you know I’m right about this. I should’ve known better than to give you so much leeway in college. There are all sorts of temptations that-”

“I can take care of myself,” she pouted.

“You have made it eminently clear that you cannot,” he countered with a sigh. “I suppose I’ll have to take matters into my own hands…” The sound of flipping papers sounded in the background. “I’ve got a meeting in New York City this coming Thursday,” he finally decided. “I’ll stop by your campus after that, and we can meet, straighten a few things out.”

Elizabeth felt her composure rapidly disintegrating. All she wanted to do now was to get off the phone before she burst out into tears. “Yes, daddy,” she agreed.

“Good. I’ll have Tracy call you and set up our appointment,” he agreed. “And you’d better be willing to listen, then.”

“Yes, daddy,” she sighed.

A smile crossed Hank’s face. “That’s my little Buffy,” he said approvingly, in a tone that was designed to make her feel better but fell well short of the mark. “Don’t worry, pumpkin. Daddy still loves you.”

“Love you, too,” she agreed, forcing back tears.

“All right then, bye, Buffy.”

“Bye, daddy.”

The instant she hung up the phone, Elizabeth burst out sobbing.

* * *

Oz had never been more terrified in his life. In fact, as far as he could remember, he’d never been terrified in his life. However, now, facing something not even he could quite comprehend that he’d done, to someone he greatly respected, his future completely on the line… Yeah, he was terrified.

Professor Simmonds blinked, removed his glasses, cleaned them thoroughly, and replaced them on the bridge of his nose, only to remove them for cleaning once more. It was a professor thing.

“I don’t even know what to say,” he finally sighed, setting down the glasses on the desk for a minute. “I never for one second thought… That this was something so malicious…” He seemed quite thoroughly stunned speechless.

“I wish I could justify it to you,” Oz agreed, “but I can’t. There’s no excuse, and I can’t believe that I would…” He trailed off, also not knowing what to say for once.

Professor Simmonds sat stunned. Oz sat frightened. Catherine Engles, head of housing, looked back and forth between the two of them both nervously and hopefully. For what she’d heard, Oz really hadn’t intended any harm. She herself was a bit torn about how much blame to put on the young man. Getting himself into such a position in the first place was obviously an error in judgment, but not a criminal charge like those he would be facing if he were turned in to the police.

“You were in my Civics class, weren’t you?” Professor Simmonds finally spoke up.

Oz nodded numbly. “I really liked it,” he added.

“One of the best students, as I recall,” Simmonds sighed. “Veruca…was not.”

Oz’s gaze flickered down to his hands. He felt really and truly lousy right about now.

“You realize that this is an offense punishable by jail time,” Simmonds commented.

“Yes,” Oz agreed dejectedly.

“I had honestly thought it was a mistake that my house was hit,” Simmonds went on. “The police asked me if I had any enemies, and I told them no. I even considered the possibility that it was a random attack. Those ‘hoodlums’ everyone seems so afraid of, or some such nonsense. But, that students of mine would…” He shook his head. “It’s almost unbelievable.”

“True, though,” Oz said apologetically. “I only remembered scattered bits and pieces of that night, but… True.”

“Did you know it was my house?” Simmonds asked suddenly.

Oz looked up at him in surprise. “No,” he insisted. “She didn’t tell me. I think I mentioned to her once that I liked you. She was probably afraid that I would back out…”

“And would you have?” Simmonds inquired.

Oz sighed. “That night? I was pretty out of control. Not thinking straight…”

“That’s not an answer to my question,” he pointed out.

“No,” Oz agreed. He took a deep breath. “I honestly don’t know if I would’ve still done it,” he admitted ruefully.

Simmonds nodded. “Honesty. That’s something, at least.”

“Mr. Osborne has been very cooperative with the Housing Office,” Catherine spoke up for the first time since Oz made his confession. “We honestly don’t feel that he had any malicious intent.”

Oz didn’t even dare to look at Professor Simmonds at that.

“Neither do I,” Simmonds surprised him. Off of Oz’s shocked expression, he managed a wan smile. “The police have no leads. You were in no danger of being caught. The instigators of such incidents are virtually never the ones to come forward in these situations. If they had the guilt, they wouldn’t have committed the crime in the first place.”

Oz nodded. “I vaguely remember that,” he agreed with a slight smile.

“Besides,” Simmonds said wearily, “I don’t think I could bear to send a student to prison. Even under circumstances such as these. I suppose I shall have to drop any charges…”

“Thank you, sir,” Oz mumbled, slightly guilty that he was getting out of this so easily.

“That doesn’t preclude the two of you from reprimands within the college, though,” Simmonds pointed out.

“Agreed,” Oz sighed with a nod.

“I can’t imagine Veruca getting off with anything less than expulsion.” Simmonds shook his head. “Frankly, I’d wondered a couple of times if that young woman was a little psychotic. You should have seen the number she did on the boy whose paper she cheated of off - also one of my better students,” he commented, more intrigued by this statement that judgmental.

“She’s got a…free, pure way about her,” Oz tried to explain.

Simmonds nodded. “Most psychotics do,” he agreed. Closing up his briefcase with a sigh, he moved to stand up. “I’ll be reporting this incident to the board of directors, naturally. You will probably have to go before them.”

Catherine nodded, taking over her position as Oz’s defense once more. “Do you plan to make any recommendations?” she pressed.

“I’ll inform them that I, personally, place the majority of the blame on Veruca,” he replied before turning back to Oz. “I would advise you to tell them what you told me. I trust that they will have an appropriate response.”

“Thank you, sir,” Oz repeated. “And I am sorry about what I did.”

“You should be,” were Simmonds’ parting words.

“Well, that went pretty well,” Catherine commented after he was gone. “At least you’re not facing serious jail time.”

“Simmonds is cool like that,” Oz agreed…

* * *

“Anyanka!” Spike exclaimed in surprise and delight. “You’re awake.”

“I’ve been up and about for four days now,” she said pointedly. “Not that you would’ve noticed given that you were busy off having orgasms. Oh, and don’t call me ‘Anyanka’.”

He laughed and gave her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “How’re you feelin’, luv?” he asked softly.

She sighed. “Still kinda crummy,” she admitted, “but I’m getting caught up on all my back work, and I even plan to attend a class on Thursday.”

“Don’t overwork yourself,” he advised, plopping down on Xander’s bed. “So where’s your doting boyfriend?” he inquired.

“Oh sure,” she said with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. “Just pretend you’re interested in my health and then go all on about Xander. It’s all right, you know. You don’t have to pretend.” She gave him an amused little smile.

He smiled back, and his eyes softened. “Missed you, luv,” he assured her. “However, Harris and I need to do some serious ‘guy talk’.”

“Ooh!” Anya exclaimed in sudden delight, clapping her hands together. “Does it have to do with penises? Because that’s a personal interest of mine…”

Spike started at her in stunned disbelief before he remembered who this was. “Some of the things that come out of your mouth, pet…” He shook his head in awe.

Anya pouted. “You can tell me,” she assured him, “since Xander’s not here and all.”

“Where is ‘e, anyway?” Spiked wondered, looking about the room as if he expecting to find Xander crouching behind the wastebasket or something.

Anya sighed. “He and Cordy are doing a ‘scene rehearsal’,” she explained. “It’s about all the two of them do these days. I mean, honestly, you would think that wanna-be actors would have warning labels on them or something.”

Spike lifted a scarred eyebrow in her direction. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of Cordy?” he asked in disbelief.

“Not exactly jealous,” Anya corrected, “just a greedy, selfish girlfriend who wants to monopolize all his time.”

“’Least you’re straightforward about it,” he commented, pulling out a cigarette.

Anya stood up and snatched it from his fingers deftly. “It’s time for The Get Spike To Quit Smoking Campaign number seventeen,” she announced. “Everyone else has been very negligent in my absence.”

He groaned but provided his pack of Dunhills into her waiting hand.

“Now,” she went on, closing the tempting pack into one of Xander’s drawers where Spike couldn’t see it, “tell me all about this guy talk.” She sat down in the armchair across from him, hands folded in her lap expectantly.

“Can’t tell you!” he insisted vehemently. “’s guy stuff!”

“Oh puh-leeze!” Anya batted one hand in the air dismissively. “You guy talked with me about Drusilla all the time.”

“Yeah, because I was drunk!” he insisted.

Anya’s look of conviction didn’t waver in the slightest.

“Oh bugger!” he exclaimed in defeat. “Fine,” he finally agreed, “but none ‘f this gets back to Cordy, right?”

“Every word,” Anya promised the opposite with an evil grin.

Spike banged his head against the headboard in frustration. “You’re a wicked, wicked woman,” he informed her with a scowl.

“I know,” she agreed happily. “Now, on with the penises.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, luv, but this has nothin’ to do with penises,” he informed her.

“You’re a guy,” she countered. “Everything has to do with your penis. Now, go on.”

He gave her an annoyed look but did as she requested. “What does it mean when you tell a girl you love ‘er, but she doesn’t say it back?” he wondered.

“That she doesn’t love you back,” Anya said matter-of-factly before her eyes widened at the implications of that. “You love Elizabeth?” A smile lit up her face. “That’s great! That’s…” The smile turned to a frown. “She doesn’t feel the same way?” she asked, concerned.

“Says she doesn’t really know what love is,” he shrugged. “Wants me to explain it to her all nice and neat so she can determine if that’s what she feels or not.”

Anya’s frown increased. “That sounds like an excuse to me,” she commented.

He sighed. “Yeah.”

“Have you talked to her about this?”

He shrugged.

Anya rolled her eyes. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t wanna…” He struggled for words, hands gesticulating in the air erratically. “…y’know, pressure her. Don’t want her to say she feels somethin’ she doesn’t just ‘cause she thinks I want her to say it.”

Anya looked at him askance. “Ah, the wishy-washy, too-sensitive-to-say-what’s-actually-on-my-mind technique,” she said sarcastically. “Yeah, that one works real well.”

“The couple ‘f fights we’ve had,” he clarified, “she completely freaked out.”

“Fights are necessary for wonderful make-up sex,” Anya stated one of her favorite truisms.

Spike managed an amused smile at that. “She seems to think ‘s the sign of the apocalypse.”

Anya stared at him in disbelief. “Hello? You two fought nonstop before you got together. Hell, it’s natural for you to have your little spats.”

“Not exactly pleasant, though, are they?” he countered.

“No, but you don’t deal with all this stuff, it’s going to get a lot worse,” she pointed out. “She was obviously attracted to that whole Big Bad thing, so she shouldn’t complain when you’re just being honest, even if she doesn’t agree with you.”

“Actually, she’s more attracted to the Sweet Boyfriend thing,” he clarified.

Anya gave him a skeptical look. “Please, she saw the leather and the bleach, and she went ‘Yum! Gotta get me some of that!’”

He chuckled at Anya’s imitation of Elizabeth’s hair swish. “Don’t think she’d quite see it that way,” he sighed.

“If she wanted straight-laced and boring, she would have stuck with Finn,” Anya insisted. “But she didn’t want that. She wanted you, although god only knows why,” she teased.

“What is this?” he scowled. “Emasculate Spike Day?”

“When is it ever not Emasculate Spike Day?” she giggled.

“Anyanka…”

“William,” she shot right back.

He let it pass. “Whattaya think I should do?” he demanded instead.

Anya bit her lip and considered this for a while. “Wait on it,” she finally decided.

He groaned.

“I’m serious!” she insisted. “This is no time for that infamous impatience of yours.”

“But ‘ve been waiting for-”

“Not done yet!” she cut him off with a gentle thwack to the head. “Listen to me first and then you can talk. It will help you work on your waiting skills!” she concluded in an intentionally too-perky tone.

He narrowed his eyes but kept his lips zipped.

“Now,” Anya began with all the pomposity of a distinguished lecturer, “it seems to me that Elizabeth is generally pretty unsure about what she wants or feels. She got involved with Riley because he was there, and even though she wasn’t really interested, she just stuck around because she was too indecisive about what to do.”

Spike’s eyes widened in alarm at that, but Anya cut him off before he could speak.

“No, I do not think that she’s in the same situation with you,” she hurried to reassure him. “She’s definitely interested - was even back while Riley was still in the picture. She knew she liked you, but again she was indecisive. If you hadn’t pursued her, I doubt anything ever would’ve happened between the two of you.”

Spike thought on that for a second, but came to no real conclusion. He began to shake his head…

“Who would you characterize as the ‘pursuer’ in your relationship?” Anya pointed out. “Who asked who out first? Who initiated your first kiss? Who initiated your first sexual encounter?”

“Oi, now, that last one,” he interrupted. “That was both ‘f us. Sorta a spontaneous sexual combustion situation.”

Anya grinned. “Knew you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for one minute,” she teased before continuing. “OK, so that part was both of you. But you seem to be the one that’s fallen in love first. Ergo, without you, things never would’ve gotten off the ground.”

“Maybe,” he conceded.

“And that’s why you just have to wait,” Anya concluded. “Everyone who sees the two of you together instantly knows how happy you are. It’s really only a matter of time until she realizes what that really means. And, just out of curiosity, when did you first tell her you loved her?”

“Right before we came back this term,” he answered.

“It took you that long to fully realize your feelings, and you honestly can’t believe that it might take her just a bit longer?” Anya asked pointedly.

He nodded. “Got me there,” he realized.

“Give her the chance to lead a bit,” Anya advised. “Keep helping her to finally admit how she feels about you, but your instinct is good - don’t push her. But don’t hide how you feel about all this, either.”

“Thank you, Oprah,” Spike teased.

“Humph.” Anya crossed her arms over her chest in an offended manner. “What brought on this dire mood in you anyway?” she wondered.

“ ‘Daddy’s coming to town this Friday,” Spike provided.

Anya’s eyes widened. “Quick, tie her down and get her pregnant before she can ditch you!” she exclaimed, trying not to laugh.

He gave her an annoyed scowl. “Have I mentioned lately how much I hate you?”

“Not since last semester.”

“I hate you,” he clarified, sticking his tongue out at her.

She stuck her tongue out back.

* * *

Tara gave Elizabeth’s hand an encouraging squeeze.

Elizabeth managed a small smile in response and looked around the crowded campus café. “I don’t think I can do this,” she insisted, nervously shifting from one foot to the other.

“He’s just your father,” Tara insisted. “It’s not like he’s going to kill you.” Her brow furrowed for a second. “Unless he happens to collect shotguns. In which case, it’s probably good to tell him that you’re a lesbian Wiccan who’s never, ever coming home again over the telephone. It’s always a good idea to be in non-lynching states when conversations like that occur…”

Elizabeth chuckled. “I’m pretty sure lynching is illegal,” she pointed out.

Tara shuddered. “You obviously haven’t met my family,” she countered.

Elizabeth gave her an apologetic smile, took a deep breath, and shifted nervously once more. “Why couldn’t he just keep it up with the whole absentee father bit?” she wondered, biting her lip. “I mean, the one time I actually don’t want him in my life, and suddenly he’s all intruding?”

“Control freak?” Tara suggested.

“Much,” Elizabeth agreed. She felt a shiver of tension run through her spine. “God, I can’t do this,” she repeated for the umpteenth time.

“You’re sure you don’t want Spike to be here?” Tara asked kindly. “It might be easier if you two presented a united front.”

Elizabeth laughed. “My dad may not own a shotgun, but he’d manage to miraculously pull one out of the ether if he ever saw Spike,” she declared. “Either that, or he’d call a mob hit.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Tara informed her. “No one’s going to kill anyone. And I really think it might make you feel better if-”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” Elizabeth insisted with a weary smile. “Adding Spike to the mix is just likely to make my dad crazier.”

“Spike already seems to be a part of your ‘mix’,” Tara pointed out kindly.

But Elizabeth didn’t hear her. At that moment, her eyes locked on the slightly pudgy, middle-aged man that had just walked into the café, briefcase in one hand. Wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt, she nervously took one step forward.

“Buffy!” Hank exclaimed in delight when he saw her.

Elizabeth winced at the use of the hated nickname in front of the campus population. “Daddy,” she agreed with a ghost of a smile…

Blue Horizons
Chapter Thirty-Four

“Buffy.” Hank caught her up in a brief hug before backing off and looking at her. A frowned marred his brow. “Gained a lot of weight, haven’t you?” he pointed out.

Elizabeth’s face flushed. Yeah, she had put on about fifteen pounds, but she was nowhere near overweight. More like at her normal weight, actually, since she’d had to keep herself dangerously thin for cheerleading. She had worried about it now and again, but Spike had always assured her that he liked the curves. This was the first time she’d ever felt really self-conscious about it, though.

She managed a nervous laugh. “Freshman ten, you know?” she pointed out.

Hank tisked her lightly. “You know you should’ve kept up with the cheerleading,” he informed her.

“I still do Tae Kwon-Do,” she offered. “Every week.” Plus, the marathon sex sessions more than make up for the exercise lost…

Hank shook his head. “I never could figure out why you’d want to do something so…unladylike…” He sighed and looked around the café. “It’s a bit…lower class, isn’t it?” He scanned the crowd of studying and chatting college students.

Elizabeth bit her lip. That was actually why this was her favorite café on campus - more the type of place the Westing House crowd would hang out in instead of the Tri Xi group. Mentally, she cringed when she saw her father appraise a young man in a torn black T-shirt with bright blue hair. Yeah, definitely a good idea I didn’t let him get a look at Spike…

“What do you say we go somewhere a bit more…appropriate?” Hank suggested.

Elizabeth sighed. “There’s an Italian restaurant about two blocks away,” she agreed.

“Great,” Hank agreed with a grin, “I can show off the rental I got for only half the original price…”

Elizabeth shot Tara a look indicating that everything was all right for now, and Tara nodded in response before turning back to the dorm. It looked like Elizabeth was completely on her own now. Tara, in a very un-Tara-like moment, contemplated the possibility of arranging an ‘accident’ for Elizabeth’s obviously overbearing and pompous father. Too bad she was such a nice person…

* * *

“You’re sure you don’t want a salad?” Hank repeated, looking up at her over his pasta. “It’ll be a treat on me.”

“I’m not hungry,” Elizabeth insisted, sipping at her water. “Gotta watch my weight, y’know.”

Hank nodded approvingly. “I didn’t realize just how dismal the weather was around here,” he commented. “With all the snow and the cold.” He shuddered. “Give me 75 and sunny all year round,” he joked lightly.

Elizabeth managed a smile. “Actually, I don’t mind it so much,” she admitted. “The snow can be a lot of fun. And it’s kind of amazing just how much the weather can change from day to day.”

Hank gave her a bright smile. “That’s my Buffy - always seeing the silver lining.”

Elizabeth managed a tight smile. “I do go by Elizabeth now,” she pointed out.

Hank sighed. “Elizabeth.” The word sounded sour coming from his mouth. “Right.”

Elizabeth bit her lip before taking another sip of her water. “How’d your meeting go?” she decided to delay the upcoming confrontation.

Hank wasn’t going to give her such an easy out. “Fine,” he said dismissively. “Look, Buffy,” he began, “I think we need to have a serious talk about your future.”

Elizabeth held her breath. “Yeah?” she ventured nervously.

“Now, I understand that things can get a little wild in college,” Hank assured her. “All the new people and the new things to do - it can be very distracting. However, it’s absolutely no reason to throw away everything you have.”

“I’m not throwing away anything,” Elizabeth insisted.

Hank cut her off. “Just hear me out,” he instructed her before settling into lecture mode once more. “You have a very bright future in front of you, young lady. You’ve got an important family, the best business contacts imaginable, your choice of all the upcoming wealthy bachelors, and a chance to earn yourself a valuable degree that will ensure your success in the future. In short, you have everything, Buffy. Which is why you can’t afford to be so callous.”

“But I’m not-”

“Let me finish,” Hank repeated. “You obviously haven’t been thinking about the long-term since you got to college, and - like I said - I can understand how you might be distracted. However, just because something else has caught your eye doesn’t mean you drop all your options. And you certainly don’t start lying to me about it. I’m very disappointed in you, young lady. I thought I had taught you better than that.” He shook his head sadly.

Elizabeth bit back the impulse to tell him that he hadn’t taught her anything because he’d never been around in the first place. “It isn’t like that,” she insisted.

“It may not seem like it to you,” Hank conceded, “but in the long run you’ll realize that I was right.”

“But you understand,” she continued, “Spike’s-”

“Not the issue we’re discussing at the moment,” Hank informed her. “What I really care about are these ‘phantom classes’ you may or may not be taking. If you don’t start progressing towards your major soon, you could very well end up being one of those losers that are trapped at college for years.”

Oz is not a loser! Elizabeth wanted to shout, but she held her tongue. “It’s my first year,” she countered. “I’m not even allowed to declare my major yet!”

“Nevertheless, there’s no reason not to start. You have to prepare for any possible future difficulties. That’s how one survives in this world, Buffy,” he lectured her, “by being prepared for the future. Why, if you took a couple of classes now, you could probably even graduate in three years. That would save you time and me money.”

“But I like it here,” Elizabeth insisted. “I don’t want to leave a year early!”

“That’s your prerogative, I suppose,” Hank sighed at his daughter’s lack of ambition. Sometimes he wondered how they could even be related. “But it’s an option you want to keep open. And that’s what thinking about your future’s all about.”

“I’ve still got plenty of time,” Elizabeth insisted, “and…” She took a nervous gulp. “What if I decide I don’t wanna be an econ major? Then taking all those classes will just be a waste of time.”

Hank raised an eyebrow at that. “And what, pray tell, would be your major then?” he inquired. “’Cause if you’re thinking of something like law…” He gave her a kind smile. “I don’t really think that’s where your…ahem, abilities lie…”

Elizabeth felt her heart constrict. She hadn’t even been considering that, of course, but just the fact that he didn’t think she was smart enough to try… She forced herself to be composed and dared to tell the truth. “Actually, I was thinking of art.”

“Art?!” Hank exclaimed in disbelief. “What kind of job are you going to get from a degree in art?!”

“Giles and Joyce say that college isn’t about getting a job,” Elizabeth insisted. “It’s about finding something that you love and exploring it. And I believe them.”

“Giles and Joyce?” Hank’s brow furrowed. “They’re those professors Dawnie was going on about, right? The parents of this…boyfriend of yours?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth admitted.

He let out a weary sigh. “They sound like decent enough people,” he began, “but just look at them. They ended up as professors, for crying out loud! They know absolutely nothing about our world. You have actual potential, and I won’t let you throw it away because some academic types put some foolish ideas into your head.”

“They’re not foolish!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

“They are foolish,” he shot right back. “Honestly, Buffy, do want to end up as some commoner? Having to work non-stop just to make enough to eat? You really want to be stuck living in some dingy apartment in the ghetto when you could have one of the mansions on Revello?”

“No,” she admitted reluctantly.

“You’re better than all that,” he insisted. “You can have it all if you would just take the time to work toward the future that - incidentally - I’ve worked very hard to set out for you. If I hadn’t managed your mother’s financial affairs so well, you’d be penniless right now. Which would mean no college at all. And if you don’t take these steps, you’re going to end up broke and desolate. And that’s not what you want.”

“No,” she agreed with a sigh.

“Good,” Hank favored her with a smile. “Now, I want you to register for an economics class,” he instructed.

“But it’s already fourth week!” she protested.

“You’re still allowed to add courses,” he informed her. “I checked. I’m sure you’ll have some catching up to do, but no pain no gain, right?”

“I’m already taking four classes,” she pointed out.

He nodded. “Two of them completely unnecessary,” he commented. “Art and history won’t get you anywhere in life. Money will.”

“You want me to drop?”

“I insist.”

Elizabeth nibbled on her lower lip. “What if I refuse?” she ventured.

Hank’s gaze turned cold. “I’ve already paid your tuition for this semester,” he informed her, “but I can easily withdraw it at my own leisure. You do not want to fight me on this, young lady.”

Elizabeth flinched but couldn’t really argue with that.

“Now,” Hank went on, “I’ve been talking with a Professor…” he scanned the numbers in his daily planner for a moment before he found the name, “Winston over in the econ department. He’s teaching 220 this semester. It doesn’t require any prerequisites, so you should be able to cut right in. And he’s agreed to fit you into his class…”

Elizabeth felt like her head was in a bit of a spin. God, her life was flip-flopping right before her eyes, and she couldn’t do anything to control it. It was not a pleasant feeling.

“So, if you just show up on Monday at 10:30-” he continued.

“That’s when my history class meets!” Elizabeth cut him off.

“Well, then, I guess that settles which class you’ll have to drop,” Hank concluded, satisfied that everything had worked out so well.

“But I-” she began. That’s the class I have with Spike! With the flirting in class, and the casual brushes, and much goodness…

“You don’t really have much of a choice,” Hank pointed out.

Elizabeth sighed.

“Don’t give me that look,” he said angrily. “I think I’m being very reasonable here. After the way you lied to me, I seriously considered pulling you out of here and getting you enrolled at UC Sunnydale where I can keep a closer eye on you.”

Elizabeth’s face paled at the thought of being separated from Spike and all her friends.

“Luckily for you, I’m still willing to give you the benefit of the doubt,” Hank informed her. “You’re young and thus don’t think properly all the time. It’s inevitable. You’re very fortunate to have me looking out for you.”

And before I came here, I would have agreed with you…except, oops!, you weren’t looking out for me then, were you? Elizabeth was angry and confused and frightened, and she didn’t know what to do.

“And my request is quite reasonable,” he still sensed her reluctance and continued to sell his policy. “Technically, you’ve got two electives right now. I could make you use both for your major, but I won’t. After all, it’s still your life to live.” He gave her hand a pat and flashed her a false, reassuring smile.

Funny, it sure doesn’t feel like it…

“Now, let’s talk about your plans for next year,” Hank went on. “You’ll be a sophomore then, so I’ll be expecting a bit more out of you. From what I’ve gathered, you’ll have fulfilled all your core requirement courses by then, so you’ll have room for four electives. Am I right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Elizabeth managed to nod numbly.

“I think we should stick to the same arrangement,” he decided. “I’ll give you one free elective, and the other three you can use to fulfill your major. If all that works out well, then maybe I’ll cut you a bit more slack your junior year. All right?”

Elizabeth nodded numbly. That’s not so bad. Hell, it’s still a year away, and at least it will all be over in three more years…

“That’s my pumpkin,” Hank said happily. He gave her a smile. “You’re going to be a somebody,” he decided. “I can just tell.”

I don’t want to be a somebody. I want to be me…

“So, are we good?” he asked.

She just nodded.

“I want a more definitive answer than that,” he informed her.

“Yes, daddy,” she agreed with a sigh.

“There’s an angel,” he smiled before his expression hardened once more. “And don’t you ever try to lie to me about your classes again,” he informed her sternly. “It may have taken me a while to catch on, but I do have an in at the registrar’s office now. And I’ll be keeping close tabs on you.”

“I won’t do it again,” she assured him.

“Great!” he exclaimed. “Now, is that all?” He checked his watch. “Because I want to stop by the office in Boston before I head on to London, and if I leave soon, I can catch an earlier flight which will give me extra time to prepare for my negotiations with ValCorp…”

Elizabeth blinked. “You’re not going to chew me out about Spike?” she asked in surprise.

Hank also blinked. “Why would I do that?” he wondered.

Now Elizabeth was thoroughly confused. “B-But I thought that was what this was all about,” she insisted. “You finally found out about him and didn’t approve, and you were gonna come here and break us up.”

Hank laughed at that. “Such an imagination,” he scolded her good-naturedly before he addressed her concern. “Buffy, I’ve known about this ‘Spike’ of yours for ages. You two haven’t exactly kept a low profile, you know?”

“Well, no,” she agreed.

“Which, really, might be a good idea,” Hank said thoughtfully. “Nasty rumors about college stuff like that can come back to haunt you later.” He chuckled again. “I should know, right?” He gave her a playful nudge with his elbow. “But if you’re not worried about your reputation, there’s not much else to discuss, really.”

“You’re OK with me dating Spike?” Elizabeth said in disbelief.

“Well, maybe ‘OK’s a bit strong,” he conceded, “but it’s to be expected.”

“What’s to be expected?” Elizabeth asked, confused.

“Everyone does it,” Hank assured her. “Just so long as you aren’t deluding yourself…”

“Deluding myself about what?” Elizabeth demanded. “What are you talking about?”

“Your little college fling,” Hank explained patiently, in a voice similar to what one would use with a not particularly bright child. “It’s actually quite common. Nearly everyone I know took the opportunity to go slumming once or twice while they were in school. It’s really perfectly harmless.”

“ ‘Slumming’?” Elizabeth repeated, offended.

“That’s all that it is,” he informed her, his voice deceptively soft. “Buffy, you’re going to go places in life. You can’t honestly think that this little relationship of yours is going to go anywhere. You’ve got a family, a future; this guy is just some punk.”

She shook her head. “His parents-”

“Are very nice, important in whatever it is they do, I’m sure,” he cut her off. “But they’re not ‘our people’, Buffy, and they never will be.”

“Mom married you, and you were a ‘commoner’,” she shot back.

Hank gave her a patient smile. “Yes, but I actually worked my way up through the world and made something of myself,” he pointed out. “This boyfriend of yours has no such drive. He’ll end up just like his parents, trapped in a middle-class existence until the day he dies.”

“And that’s so bad?” Elizabeth sighed.

He let out a weary sigh. “I’m sure it’s just fine,” he conceded, “for him. But you’re so much better than that. Not even Dawnie has the same advantages you do…”

Read: Dawnie’s mom wasn’t from a rich family, so Dawn’s not as important as you, Elizabeth shuddered at the thought.

“Sorry to disillusion you, pumpkin,” he patted her hand gently, “but these things just don’t work out. He knows you’re better, and it will drive a wedge between the two of you. It’s better you hear it from me now than learn from experience.”

“He won’t leave me,” Elizabeth said confidently.

“Maybe not,” Hank’s patience was rapidly dwindling, and he kept checking his watch, “but eventually you’re going to wise up and realize that he’s holding you back. My advice: have your fun, and then cut him off before things get nasty.”

A sick feeling was building in Elizabeth’s stomach at what her father was saying. As horrible as it was to hear, there was a hint of truth in there.

“I mean, what did you think would happen?” Hank asked. “That the two of you would get married? Raise a family?” He laughed at the absurdity of the notion.

Tears threatened to spill from Elizabeth’s eyes as the fantasy was shattered.

Hank’s expression softened when he noticed her reaction. “Oh, princess,” he cooed softly, catching her in a brief hug, “I’m sorry. But you can’t honestly believe that you’re going to marry some guy named ‘Spike’. You’re pretty and wealthy. You could have anyone. You’ll see that I’m right. In the long run, this Spike will just be a wild memory of your more foolish years. Cherish it, but don’t ever forget that ultimately it’s not that important.”

Elizabeth felt suddenly very, very cold.

“That a shiver I see?” Hank smiled. “Told you the weather was too cold here.” He appraised her again. “You know, you might consider finding a tanning salon around here. You’ve gone a bit pale with the winter, and you want to keep up that golden tan.” He winked. “Because you never know when the real Mr. Right will come along, and you’ll want to use your best assets.”

“Yeah,” she managed a weak ghost of a smile.

“Now, I want to catch that early flight,” Hank checked his watch again. “Have a fun school year,” he said his good-byes, “and enjoy your new class…”

Elizabeth watched him go and felt as though she was about to die of a heart attack, it was pounding in such a desperate rhythm within her chest. Just in that one visit, everything had suddenly changed. Her academic future was set in stone and completely beyond her control, and Spike was…

Still her boyfriend. She still had Spike, for now at least.

And how dare her father do this to her?! How could he just tear up everything she’d built here, and then vanish once more, leaving alone and with nothing? How could he govern her life and abandon her all in one fell swoop?

With a heavy heart, Elizabeth made her way back towards Westing House, pondering the uncertain future that lay before her…

* * *

“That bad, ‘ey?”

Spike had only had to look at the dire expression on Elizabeth’s face to know that the meeting with Hank hadn’t gone well.

“A severe beating,” she sighed, sitting on the edge of their bed.

Spike inched closer to her. “Tell me about it?” he requested softly, twining one golden lock of her hair through his fingers.

She managed to smile slightly at the comforting touch. “He wasn’t too pleased about the whole major thing,” she sighed.

“Not surprisin’,” Spike agreed, pulling her further onto the bed and into his arms.

She snuggled up against him with a contented murmur, burying her head in his shoulder. “He threatened to cut off my tuition and make me go to UC Sunnydale,” she admitted with a shiver.

His grip on her tightened as pain at the thought of losing her flashed through him. “What did you do?” he asked raggedly.

“Caved in,” she answered, ashamed. “What else could I do?”

Spike bit his lip. She needed him to listen now, not come up with far-fetched suggestions. “So, what does that mean?” he pressed.

“I’m an econ major again,” she said with a grimace. “I have to start taking this econ class dad picked out for me, starting on Monday.”

“Monday?!” Spike repeated in disbelief. “You can’t just pick up a class now.”

She let out a wry laugh. “Oh, believe me, I tried to explain that to him,” she agreed. “He wouldn’t have any of it. That part’s not so bad, though…”

“Oh?” Spike asked in dread.

“Next year I have to take three econ classes,” she provided.

Spike frowned. “You want me to bump this guy off?” he half-teased. “’d save you a lot ‘f trouble…”

She managed a small smile at that and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “My cuddly assassin,” she teased softly, wrapping her arms around him tighter.

“All yours,” he agreed, nuzzling her hair softly.

After a moment, Elizabeth pulled back. “I guess I’ll just have to suck it up and take it,” she decided. “I can do that.”

“You shouldn’t ‘ave to,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but short of getting my big fat ass dragged back to California, kicking and screaming, there’s not much else I can do.”

He sighed. “Maybe you can get Anyanka to help you. Buddy up in classes or somethin’.”

She nodded. “Sounds like a good plan,” she agreed. “See?” She plastered a false smile on her face. “I can make this work.”

“Was never any doubt about that, luv,” he said with a shy smile.

“Huh?” She looked at him curiously. “Whattaya mean by that?”

“’S just…” His cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment, but he plunged on. “Gotta feelin’ you could do just about anythin’ you set your heart and your mind to…” He absentmindedly began playing with the corner of the coverlet, looking anywhere but at her.

A warmth suffused her body at that. “Thank you.” She leaned in closer to him and brushed her lips across his once more. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s said me. Which is impressive, since you’ve shot quite a few doozies my way.”

He grinned at that. “So, I take it we’re still on?” he asked hopefully.

“Actually,” she admitted, “he didn’t really care about us. And I was all set to refuse to break up with you, too.”

“He din’t try to make me history?” Spike said in surprise.

“Nope,” Elizabeth shook her head. “Apparently, you’re not interfering with this all-important future he’s got planned out for me.”

“One ‘f these days, you’re gonna hafta knock the old man on his ass, you know,” he pointed out gently.

She sighed. “I know,” she agreed, taking his hand and intertwining their fingers. “But not now. Not when I have so much to lose…”

Their lips met once more and lingered this time, carefully rediscovering the taste of the other as their bodies melded together, holding each other tightly.

“I love you,” Spike whispered when they finally broke apart.

“I know,” Elizabeth agreed softly, brushing back the persistent peroxide blond curl that fell onto his forehead. “Will you show me again?” she requested, tracing the outline of his face. “Will you make me forget this afternoon ever happened?”

“Gladly,” he agreed before tackling her back onto the mattress and covering her body with kisses…

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