Elizabeth groaned and swatted at her alarm clock for the second time that morning. She’d already found out the first disadvantage to dorm life earlier that day: roommates with seven o’clock classes.

Unfortunately, this time the alarm really was hers. After only minimal fumbling, she managed to get it turned off and slipped out of bed. Robe in place, she prepared for the great ten-foot journey to the bathroom, opened the door, and...was attacked.

A wall of steam blew past her, clearing out the bathroom and revealing... OK, how unfair was it that she had to deal with that first thing in the morning? Elizabeth felt her mouth go dry at the sight of Spike clad in nothing but a small, while towel, hot droplets of water from his shower still dripping down his bare, muscular back. She swallowed.

Spike heard her apparently and looked up from where he was brushing his teeth into the fogged mirror before him. He cursed through the toothpaste when he couldn’t see anything and turned around to see who was there.

“’Mornin’, Summers,” he said a bit groggily.

Elizabeth snapped her jaw shut from where it had dropped to the floor and casually walked into the bathroom. “Morning.” See? She could still play it cool even though Spike really obviously worked out. A lot. Damn, the man was all lean, sinewy muscle and... Annoying, she reminded herself.

“You got stuck with a nine o’clock class too, ‘ey?” he inferred, spitting out the toothpaste before gracing her with a wide yawn.

Ah good, he was still too tired to try to be seductive...and didn’t he have such nice, straight, white teeth? She inwardly slapped herself for sounding like a bad toothpaste commercial and set her own basket of bathroom paraphernalia on the shelf of the sink beside his. “Oh yeah,” she agreed with a slight yawn of her own.

Spike wiped his mirror clean before lathering his face with shaving cream. “Whattaya got then?” he inquired.

“Art history.” She shoved her own toothbrush into her mouth and began scrubbing. There, now nearly-naked Spike wasn’t as intimidating as she thought, was he? She ventured a look at his bare chest and...ooh! Were gorgeous abs like those even possible? OK, back to looking at the nice, safe mirror.

“Really?” Spike began to shave. “Who you got?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “Don’t remember.”

“Rudall?” he suggested. “Luce? Steinberg?”

Elizabeth nodded through her mouth full of toothpaste. “That’s it, Steinberg.” She spit into the sink.

Spike shook his head. “Good luck,” he said sarcastically before splashing water on his face.

“What do you mean?” Elizabeth demanded warily.

“Steinberg’s a bloody sadist,” Spike shrugged. “Likes to make students miserable.”

“And where were you when I was registering?” Elizabeth sighed.

He gave her a sly smirk and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “You wanna...tutor, all you’ve gotta do is ask, luv,” he said suggestively. “Be happy to teach you a thing or two...” He looked her up and down in a way more...blatant and hungry than any she’d ever seen before.

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and her body became painfully aware of the fact that it was less than a foot away from nearly-naked Spike. “Pig.” She was proud of the fact that she managed to say the word with clear precision.

His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oink, oink,” he agreed before grabbing his stuff and leaving the bathroom.

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. Spike was definitely too intense to deal with first thing in the morning. Unhindered by infuriating peroxide blonds, she quickly finished her morning rituals and headed back to her room...only to find that now-dressed infuriating peroxide blonds were just now leaving their room.

“Don’ wanna be late to Steinberg’s class,” he advised her, slinging his book-bag over one leather-clad shoulder.

“Thanks for the tip,” she said sarcastically. Mmm, his hair was still all curled and wild from his shower...

“Later, luv.” He paused at the door to the stairwell to blow her a quick kiss before he was gone.

“Jerk,” Elizabeth grumbled, heading back into her own room to get dressed...

* * *

“Daily attendance is mandatory,” Professor Steinberg, a once-tall-now-bent-in-two stodgy old man, declared. He looked over the top of his reading glasses to make sure everyone was paying attention. “Every absence loses you a third of a grade, and from now on you all get to class five minutes early. I don’t want attendance to cut into my lecture time. In addition, you will attend the mandatory discussion sections that I assign. Any absence docks your grade.” He turned back to the rather extensive list of rules he’d assigned for the day.

Elizabeth bit back a pang of real fear as she looked over the course guidelines. OK, so maybe Spike hadn’t been kidding in his assessment of Steinberg...

“You’ll notice that you have two projects in addition to the midterm and final. Any of these get turned in late, you get a zero. No exceptions. I don’t care if you’ve got bubonic plague. You can’t do the work; you don’t take the class. All tests will cover the material from lectures, the textbook, as well as the independent research I’ll expect you to do for this class.” He gave the entire room a dark glare. “I expect most of you not to pass. And I’ve only given twenty A’s ever, in all my fifty years of teaching. If you aren’t ready to take a real class, I suggest you look into visual arts down the hall.”

He leaned forward against the podium. “Now, we will begin with the Classical Period today. Chapters one through four on the Archaic Period we’ll skip, but will still be on the test. One word of advice – sketch the slides fast; you may not see some of them again until the final. Slide one—” He turned to the picture behind him.

And Elizabeth began scribbling notes furiously. OK, she’d heard college was hard, but she hadn’t expected this. At least a couple of the other freshmen seemed just as flustered as she was. Oh yeah, did school suck...

* * *

Elizabeth sat in her seat in American History slowly clenching and unclenching her hand. She was quite confident she’d already gotten carpal tunnel syndrome from writing down everything Steinberg had said. She was equally confident she’d already managed to do something to earn herself an F. Fortunately, she hadn’t been called on in class and thus hadn’t gotten one of the little red X’s The Professor From Hell put in his grade book every time a question was answered incorrectly. Dammit, two more classes to go today, and already she had a headache...

And it just got worse. With a flurry of black leather, Spike abruptly landed in the seat beside her.

“Din’t know you were interested in history, Summers,” he said, in way too good a mood for her taste.

“I have to take a history course,” she informed him. “Requirement.”

“Ah,” he said, dropping his bag between them and leaning over to brush right against her thigh as he dug around in it for a pencil. He gave her a little triumphant smile when he found one. “The joys of freshman year...” he began somewhat nostalgically.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes.

“Steinberg that bad?” he inquired astutely.

“Why has no one murdered that man yet?” she demanded.

He chuckled slightly. “No one’s offered me the right price yet,” he teased before leaning into her ear. “Although, for a pretty face...might be willin’ to cut you a deal...”

She blushed and swatted at him half-heartedly, which only made his smirk grow wider. He tried to catch her wrists, and she fended him off, unable to keep an amused little smile off her face at the sheer childishness of their behavior...

“Elizabeth,” a voice suddenly broke the little bubble that had formed between them, “is this jerk bothering you?”

They both turned, and Spike let out a long-suffering sigh. “Finn,” he hissed, his eyes cold.

“Giles.” Riley didn’t look any more pleased to see him. “What are you even doing in this class?” he demanded. “Given you *ahem* unique opinions on this great country of ours,” he gave Elizabeth a little smile, letting her know that she was included in the ‘ours’, “I’d’ve thought you’d avoid U.S. history like the plague.”

“History ‘as nothin’ to do with patriotism, Finn,” Spike informed him in a voice that made it all too clear that he thought the other man was an idiot.

Riley ignored his response and turned to Elizabeth. “You and Giles are friends?” he said, disbelieving.

“No!” Elizabeth panicked, suddenly realizing what a major blow it would be to her popularity if she got the rep for handing around with punks.

Spike shot her a slightly hurt look.

“No, I mean,” she quickly amended, “we live in the same house is all.”

Riley shoved his way past Spike and sat in the seat on the opposite side of her. “My condolences,” he said, giving her a conspiratorial little smile.

She managed to force out a laugh. “Uh...yeah...” She could almost feel Spike’s eyes burning into the back of her neck, but when she chanced a look back at him, he seemed completely absorbed in the textbook in front of him.

“So,” Riley slipped on hand onto the back of her chair and leaned forward slightly, “how’s your day been so far?”

She rolled her eyes. “Had the Asshole Prof From Hell already...”

“Oh yeah?” Riley inquired. “Who?”

“Steinberg for art history,” she sighed. “I mean what kind of a pretentious, overbearing fogy only gives twenty A’s in fifty years?”

“Ah, the famous Steinberg speech,” Riley said. “If you ever, uh, want any help, I’d be happy to oblige. Took his class last year, you know...when he’d only given out nineteen A’s...”

“Really?” Elizabeth’s smile widened.

“*Cough*liar*Cough*.” Spike only half hid his accusation amidst his hacking.

“What was that?” Riley’s eyes narrowed.

“You aced Steinberg’s class?” Spike raised a sardonic eyebrow.

“Whatsa matter, Giles?” Riley retorted. “Jealous?”

“Oh yeah, ‘cause Steinberg jus’ loved you,” Spike retorted sarcastically.

“At least I didn’t get into a screaming match with him every class,” Riley retorted. “Let me guess; he failed your ass.”

“’Least I don’ take credit for things I ‘aven’t done,” Spike shot back.

Riley leaned into Elizabeth a bit closer. “The problem with Giles here,” he informed her with a grin, “is that he just can’t accept that he’s not destined for the greater things in life, not like us...” His hand rested possessively on her thigh.

She suddenly got the distinct impression that she was the trophy in some sort of testosterone-induced competition. At least Spike seemed not to be playing. He proceeded to ignore the two of them again, instead watching the professor that had just entered the room. Elizabeth brushed Riley’s hand aside and prepared to pay attention to class as well.

“I’m Professor Hall,” the leggy brunette announced.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. That was a professor? She was actually pretty and youngish and stuff...

“The TA’s are passing around the assignment sheets now,” Professor Hall continued. “Please, take one and pass them on. Hopefully, we’ll get through it fast, and you’ll all get out early.”

Elizabeth accepted the stack of assignment sheets from Spike and passed them on to Riley.

“I’ll just take attendance. If you go by any name not listed here, just let me know,” Professor Hall fumbled through several papers until she found the class list. “Dana Adams?”

Elizabeth read over the assignment sheet during the long wait until the S’s. Attendance, readings, class participation, two five-page papers, and a final – all in all, not so bad. She breathed a little sigh of relief; she’d been half-convinced that every class would have as much work as Steinberg’s...

“Here.”

Elizabeth started slightly when Riley spoke up right beside her.

Professor Hall checked off his name. Her brow furrowed slightly then. “William Giles?” she asked, looking around the room.

“Oi.” Spike raised his hand.

Professor Hall gave him a small smile. “Barely even recognized you,” she commented. “You go by something different now...?” Her brow furrowed again.

“Spike,” he provided.

“That’s it,” she agreed. “Knew it was something unusual...” She jotted down a note. “Sean Gregg?”

“You know her?” Elizabeth whispered to Spike in surprise.

“She an’ my da are good friends,” he shrugged. “Met ‘er at a few conferences when I was little.”

“Teacher’s pet,” Riley accused juvenilely.

Spike didn’t even dignify that with a response.

“Elizabeth Summers?” Professor Hall called out.

“Here,” Elizabeth raised her hand.

“Just Elizabeth?”

She nodded, and the three of them sat silently throughout the rest of the roll call.

“This class is really simple,” Professor Hall finally began. “You do the reading and pay attention to the lectures, you’ll be fine. You don’t, and you’ll be in trouble for the final. Now, I bet most of you are noticing that there’s no midterm and cheering. And, yes, that’s right, the only test you’ll have to take is the final. The two papers, however, will cover the themes we’ll be discussing, so you’ll get some feedback as to how well you’re understanding the material. Give me a good effort, and you’ll pass just fine. Now, that’s all I’ve got for today. Read chapter one of Wilcox for Wednesday and enjoy getting out of class forty-five minutes early.” She picked up her bag to go.

“Out early?” Elizabeth said with a little smile. “How cool is that?”

“Barb’s nice like that,” Spike grinned back at her. “Bloody brilliant, too. You’ll love ‘er lectures...” He finished packing up his book-bag. “You headed for lunch?” he asked almost shyly.

“I’ve got another class after this,” she said apologetically. “Don’t wanna have to rush all the way to Westing and back.”

“You should come to the coffee shop with me then,” Riley insisted brightly. “You can tell me all about your day, get a nice break...”

“Sure, that’d be great,” she agreed. She did frown slightly when Riley practically shoved Spike aside to parade her past. The trophy analogy was in full force again.

What she didn’t see was the hurt little _expression on Spike’s face before his eyes narrowed in rage...

* * *

“That stupid, nancy boy, wanker...ARGH!” Spike exclaimed, slamming his fist into the table and setting all the silverware rattling.

Willow calmly stilled her spoon’s violent rocking. “Let me guess,” she said with a small, knowing smile, “Riley Finn?”

“’Course ‘s bleedin’ Finn,” Spike grumbled under his breath, slumping in his chair.

“That nasty guy that was insulting Oz?” Xander asked curiously.

“Sounds like ‘im,” Spike sulked.

Faith’s interest was definitely piqued. Testosterone was in the air; she could just smell it. And given the attractiveness of the two males at the table, it was definitely something worth encouraging... “What’ve you got against that studmuffin?” she asked curiously, taking a bite out of her apple.

Spike gave her an annoyed look. “Watch it, girlie,” he said in a falsely saccharine tone. “’E’d take you for a ride an’ then toss you aside.”

“Isn’t that the best kind?” Faith said saucily.

“Not ‘f he dumps you just ‘cause you’re not ‘good enough’ for ‘im,” Spike retorted. “You’re either a snooty rich bitch potential wife or street trash with that one. Without the dollar signs by your name, ‘e would barely even see you as ‘uman.”

“Nice guy,” Xander commented sarcastically.

Spike rolled his eyes. “You don’ even know the half ‘f it...” he complained.

“He had sex with Spike’s girlfriend,” Anya spoke up for the first time, “just to make him angry.”

Spike gave her an outraged look. “Thanks for tellin’ everyone, Anyanka!” he exclaimed. “Wanna yell that a bit louder? ‘Bout two people ‘aven’t heard yet!”

Anya gave him an apologetic smile. “Drusilla was a slut, though, so it doesn’t lessen Spike’s manliness in the slightest. In fact, he has a rather large—”

“Anyanka!” Spike exclaimed, his face flaming a deep red.

“Keep calling me ‘Anyanka’, and I’ll finish that sentence,” she threatened with a wicked little smile, “and explain in detail how I got that information.”

“This ‘s blackmail,” he grumbled under his breath.

“A rather large—” Anya continued.

“Anya!” Spike spit out. “There! Happy?”

“Very much so,” she said with a delighted little grin.

Xander and Faith’s jaws had dropped to the floor in disbelief in the meantime, and Willow was desperately trying to focus on her sandwich.

“So, um, yeah,” Xander finally dare to speak, “moving past the Anya/Spike sex...”

“Oh, we didn’t have sex,” Anya provided helpfully. “We were nowhere near drunk enough for that. See, I just bet—”

“Anya!” Spike cut her off, mortified.

Anya sulked and mumbled to herself.

Faith leaned towards her. “So, when you say ‘rather large’, how does that translate into inches?” she couldn’t help tease.

“Welcome to find out, luv,” Spike purred, back to his usual self – battling with Anya generally did that, “’f you think you can take it, that is.”

“Oh, I could take you for the ride of your life,” Faith assured him through long lashes.

“Down, girl,” Willow teased. “A little sympathy for everyone else at the table that likes women.”

Even Faith blushed a bit at Willow’s implication, and the conversation died down to normal levels.

“So,” Willow demanded of Spike, “what did Riley do now...?”

* * *

“I mean, I’m sure he’s got his uses,” Riley said, sounding only half-convinced, “but does he honestly think someone like you would so much as give him the time of day?”

“I don’t wear a watch,” Elizabeth pointed out. OK, this was starting to get boring. So far Riley had only wanted to talk about two things: his heroism on the basketball court, and how Spike was inferior in every way. Frankly, Elizabeth preferred the basketball stories.

Riley gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” he apologized, “I don’t mean to go off on the Giles thing, but seeing him going after you...” He shuddered. “He’s so creepy. If I were you, I wouldn’t encourage him. Trust me, you don’t want him for a stalker, although you wouldn’t be the first...”

She gave him a confused look and downed the last of her coffee.

“Oh yeah,” he informed her conspiratorially, leaning in close. “There was this one girl – Dru – that he was into or something. Well, naturally, she doesn’t want anything to do with him ‘cause, frankly, who would? So she and I are just hanging out, and he goes ballistic on me. I took care of him, though,” he informed her with a little wink. “You ever have any problems with him,” his hand slipped out to cover hers, “you just get me, and I’ll take care of it for you.”

Elizabeth jerked her own hand back before he could touch it. “Th-Thanks,” she managed to get out before standing up. “It’s been nice, really, but I’ve got the get to class.”

“I’ll see you ‘round then,” Riley said with a wide grin.

“Sure,” she agreed, plastering a smile onto her face before she turned and left.

Oh yeah, Riley thought, watching her ass as she went, she’s definitely the one for me. Sweet, pretty, innocent, from a good family – perfect...

* * *

Elizabeth cast and annoyed eye roll at Spike’s room as loud screaming that she supposed he called ‘music’ shook the entire hallway even through his closed door. She shut the door to her own room with a sigh of relief.

Willow gave her a sympathetic smile from where she was lying on her bed, reading. “Yes, he does listen to that stuff all the time,” she sighed.

“No wonder he yells so much,” Elizabeth teased, “he’s probably deaf from that bass.”

“I know I am,” Willow giggled slightly.

Elizabeth let out a weary sigh and collapsed on her bed. “Go ahead,” she joked, her head still buried in her pillow, “ask me how my day went...”

“That bad, huh?” Willow shut her textbook with a snap.

“I have over three hundred pages to read by Wednesday,” Elizabeth began, “a professor who was a slave driver in a past life...or maybe this one – he is pretty old, and another class tomorrow...” She groaned.

“Don’t forget ‘it’s only the first day’,” Willow teased.

Elizabeth lifted her head up just enough to narrow one eye at Willow before collapsing again. “Please, tell me it doesn’t always suck this much...”

“It pretty much does,” Willow said apologetically, “but you get used to it.” She gave Elizabeth a perky smile.

“I don’t believe you,” Elizabeth insisted. “There is no way I could get used to this. No way, no how...”

TBC

Chapter 5

“Pre-lab, short answers, and…worksheet,” Elizabeth muttered to herself as she placed her assignments in the three colored bins on Professor Scott’s desk.

Next to her, Xander was wheedling an extension on the short answers from the short, balding professor.

Faith hadn’t even bothered to show up for the massive Everything’s Due Day.

Elizabeth waited patiently in the hallway, and a few seconds later Xander joined her. “Extension acquired?” she asked with a small smile.

“Till Monday,” he sighed. “There goes my weekend.”

“Hmm,” she nodded, fighting to suppress her smile.

He quirked a half-smile in her direction in response. “Go ahead,” he teased, “gloat.”

“No homework at all this weekend!” Elizabeth exclaimed excitedly. “Nothing but relaxing and partying and sleeping…”

“I said you could gloat, not rub it in,” Xander said, mock-offended.

Elizabeth gave him a playful bat on the shoulder. “If you did your work on time, you wouldn’t have this problem,” she informed him.

“I was doing work!” Xander insisted. “I stayed up all last night on the pre-lab, and the night before that it was the math problem set, and before that my history reading… How on earth did you find time to write the short essays?” he demanded.

“It’s pretty much all just reading,” she shrugged. “I just sit down and do it. You should study with Will and Tara and me. It’s really quiet, and you actually get stuff done.”

“Except for the whole being surrounded by three beautiful women, two of which could start making out with each other any minute…” Xander joked. “Yeah, perfect distraction-free environment.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at him and stepped out into the bright Friday afternoon. “So, what’re you doing this evening?” she asked.

Xander let out a weary sigh. “Studying,” he admitted ruefully. “You?”

“Well, this afternoon I get to hit things, and then there’s another Delphi Phi party tonight, and rush, rush, rush on Saturday…” Elizabeth began.

“Hold on a second,” Xander waved his hands in the air in a confused manner. “Hit things?”

Elizabeth laughed. “Karate,” she informed him. “Or, actually, Tae Kwon-Do. Even though the school doesn’t technically offer it, I’ve been informed that we have a small team.”

“You do Karate?” Xander looked suddenly nervously.

She shrugged. “To a lesser degree,” she agreed.

“How good are you?” he gulped.

“Black belt.” There just was no way to make those words sound modest. “Took the high school state tournaments a couple of times…although that was in Tae Kwon-Do.”

“So, you could, like, totally kick my ass right now?” Xander demanded clarification.

“Yup,” she agreed with a small smile.

“Why do I feel like I should be handing you my lunch money right about now?” he joked.

Elizabeth laughed and opened the back door to Westing Hall. “That would be immoral…and strictly prohibited by all martial arts’ philosophies.”

“Whew.” Xander breathed a mock sigh of relief. “You coming to lunch?” he asked, gesturing over to the crowded dinning hall.

Elizabeth grimaced at the size of the line. “Don’t think I’m brave enough to face that mob,” she joked. “I’ll just make a sandwich or something.”

“Ah, culinary skills,” Xander said in a mock-sage voice, “a vital tool for the college student.”

Elizabeth laughed at the reference to Xander’s mega-disaster in the kitchen on Wednesday. The microwave had been thoroughly traumatized, and she didn’t think she’d even be able to see a potato again without cracking up. “I’m sure you could manage a sandwich,” she reassured him.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” he teased before giving her a quick wave and vanishing into the crowd.

Elizabeth practically skipped up the stairs, so happy at her first weekend that not even Spike’s blaring music could sour her mood…

* * *

OK, so she was slightly more sour by the time she finally arrived at the ‘dojo’ – i.e. the rec room of the Stanton Gymnasium.

First off, Kathy had dropped by, reminding her that she should visit Tri Xi with her later this evening if she wanted to get an extra in at the sorority. That meant she had to spend an entire evening with Kathy. Which was scary enough in and of itself.

Second, her father had e-mailed her with a list of ‘social contacts’ she should make while at college. They consisted of various friends of Kathy’s, most of which Elizabeth had already met and immediately disliked. Her father had also offered several times to do family background checks on any ‘potential suitors’ she might run across. Elizabeth so didn’t need her father running her love life from afar…

Third (and what list would be complete without Spike somewhere on it), the irritating peroxide blond had plopped down beside her on the couch in the lounge for about an hour, making sarcastic remarks about the rerun of 90210 she’d been watching and sending not-so-subtle innuendoes at her so rapidly that she was sure her face was a permanent shade of red.

The instant her show had ended and she’d gotten up to leave, he’d immediately switched over to ‘Passions’, which really wasn’t any better in Elizabeth’s opinion. However, after she’d pointed this out, he’d gotten this smug little leer on his face and informed her that she was welcome to help him find something better to do with his free time. One glance at where his thumb had hooked into the waist of his tight jeans, and she’d fled like mad into the safety of her room.

And the worst thing was that she couldn’t even go out to take a cold shower without him knowing about it.

And, finally, she’d gotten all her gear together and was ready to head for practice. Faith had expressed some interest in checking out martial arts, so Elizabeth had banged on her door…only to hear loud grunts and groans inside. Specifically Faith’s and a guy’s. Elizabeth so didn’t need to hear that right now.

Needless to say, it’d been a frustrating afternoon. She was thoroughly anticipating kicking something’s ass. Too bad the ass she was kicking wouldn’t be Spike’s…

Having quickly changed into her uniform in the women’s locker-room, she entered the makeshift ‘dojo’ and bowed gracefully before taking her place at the end of the line of students. Most were dressed just in sweats, indicating that this was their first time here.

A couple quiet conversations started around her about what this class would be like, and several people even asked her about the sensei and such before she informed them that she was a freshman too and didn’t have the slightest clue. Well, maybe a teensy bit more than the slightest clue, but still…

She was still surprised when their coach entered and turned out to be very British. She’d kind of gathered that from his name and all, but it still seemed unusual to her.

“Greetings, class,” the young man glanced at them through wire-rimmed glasses, pausing when he noticed Elizabeth’s belt for a brief second. “You are all here for karate, I take it?” he joked lightly. “Good. First thing’s first, we are not here to learn how to beat people up or do our own Matrix-style special effects. Anyone who’s here for that purpose should leave now. Anyone?”

A couple of the girls giggled. Probably because he was pretty cute…not to mention he had a sexy accent.

“Well, then,” he said with his first smile, “my name’s Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, but I don’t expect you to call me by that monstrosity…”

More giggles.

“Now, you may have heard that all the martial arts deal strongly in philosophy and discipline, and this class will as well. However, I see no point in forcing unnatural formality onto you all. So, please, just call me Wesley. Likewise, if you have any questions, please feel free and comfortable to ask them. This is a class, after all – a self-defense one, but a class nonetheless – and I find that students tend to learn best in a more casual environment. However, let’s not go overboard. There are a few basic rules to be observed…”

Elizabeth tuned out as he went through the basics of dojo etiquette. She was too busy debating whether or not she liked Wesley’s style. Her old sensei back at home had been ultra-conservative style. Her first thought upon seeing Wesley’s teaching technique was that he was sloppy, but she had been assured that he was one of the best coaches in New England…

“Now, we’re going to start off with some simple stretches,” Wesley finally began the class. “Since our captain seems to be – surprise, surprise – late, Kendra, will you lead the class?”

A stocky girl of exotic African features stepped to the mat across from them, and soon everyone was following her in the standard series of stretches.

Elizabeth easily managed all of the exercises and took her free time to observe the class itself. Well over half the people there were obviously freshmen trying karate out for the first time. Another quarter perhaps were recent students to the sport. There were nearly a dozen or so like Kendra, however, who sported various colored belts and obviously had some skill. She had been informed that there would be other students of her level in the class.

Stretching was followed by a bit of aerobic exercise, followed by the standard instruction on posture, position, footwork…

Wesley came over to talk to her during this portion of the class. “You’re Elizabeth?” he asked, extending his hand. “The one who e-mailed me?”

She shook it. “That’s me,” she agreed.

“Very good,” Wesley agreed with a small smile. “Your previous instructor gave you a rather glowing recommendation.”

“Sensei Hwang?” Elizabeth said in slight disbelief. “Really?”

Wesley laughed. “Not very good at expressing those sorts of things, is he?” he agreed. “If it would be at all possible for you to stay a bit after practice so that I can more accurately assess your skill level…?”

That would mean she’d be late in meeting Kathy. “Sounds great,” Elizabeth said enthusiastically.

“Wonderful,” Wesley clapped his hands together. “I’m afraid everything today will be a bit below your level. And I believe that you focus on Tae Kwon-Do?”

She nodded.

“I’ve got several advanced students in the same predicament – small school means I have to just choose karate as the basic program, but I’m sure we’ll all work it out,” he informed her. “Today if you’d just care to help with the instruction of the new students…”

“I’d love to,” Elizabeth agreed with a smile.

“Great,” Wesley said enthusiastically. “Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting you, and I hope you enjoy our club.”

“Thanks a lot,” Elizabeth agreed.

“And, ah!” Wesley commented, looking over Elizabeth’s shoulder at the door. “You’ll want to meet our team captain, and here he is, half an hour late as usual…”

Elizabeth had the premonition even before she turned. It was kind of this strange tickling sensation at the base of her spine. She looked and groaned when she realized she had been correct.

“Spike, this is Elizabeth. She’s a quite accomplished fighter from California,” Wesley needlessly introduced them. “Elizabeth, this is—”

“I know who he is,” she sighed before addressing Spike. “Might’ve known this would be your sort of thing.” Ooh, black belt, too, she couldn’t help but notice. Maybe I WILL get to kick Spike’s ass…and a very nice ass it is. Not to mention that gorgeous expanse of chest peeking out of his uniform and— She inwardly cringed. Bad mind! Bad!

“Yeah, well, need to get out all that aggression and…” he gave her an appraising look that made her feel like he was reading her mind, “frustration somehow.”

“Yeah,” she nodded with a falsely sweet smile, “I can see how you’d be frustrated a lot.”

Wesley seemed quite thoroughly oblivious to the sparks that were flying between his two students. “You know each other already? Good. Spike can tell you anything else you need to know then. If the two of you will excuse me now, I’ve got a class to teach…” He left the two of them to their own devices.

“So, Summers, how’d you come into the world of martial arts?” Spike asked cheekily. “You seem more like the cheerleadin’ ice princess type…”

“I was a cheerleader,” she informed him primly. “And a figure skater. Dad let me take one additional activity, and this was what I chose.”

“Oh, Daddy let you,” Spike said sarcastically. “’S nice to know he’s so lenient.”

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed just as Wesley’s voice caught both of their attentions.

“Our captain has finally decided to grace us with his presence,” Wesley announced, gesturing to Spike. “This is Spike. He’ll lead the general exercises…when he bothers to show up on time.”

Spike gave him a sheepish shrug in response.

“I’ll be in the office for the rest of this class then,” Wesley informed them. “I’ll be back next week when we’ll do our first real exercises.” He cleared the instruction mat for Spike.

“’Ey, all,” Spike leapt right into his leadership role and threw Elizabeth a cocky smile as he did so, “right now, we’re just gonna keep it really simple. You all ‘ve already learned a simple punch an’ block, right?”

Kendra gave him an affirmative nod.

“Right then, here’s what we’re gonna do. Can I have a volunteer from the audience? One ‘f you new students?”

Several hands shot up. Elizabeth was half-convinced Spike was going to pick her, just to annoy her, but instead he picked an attractive young brunette who blushed horribly when he took her hand and led her over to the front mat.

“What’s your name, luv?” he asked, charm out in full force.

“Julia,” she said with a shy little smile.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. OK, so Spike was physically attractive. She could admit that. At least in an abstract sense. After all, she’d have to be pretty much blind not to see it. But after that his appeal died a horrible, brutal death. He was just so aggravating and argumentative and impolite and a shameless flirter and… And why on earth were all these girls giggling at his jokes and batting their eyelashes at him and…!

Elizabeth let out a deep breath to calm herself. She quickly found that she could take some consolation in the fact that she could kick any of their asses.

“Now, Julia,” Spike said with that gorgeous little smile of his, “you’re gonna aim a punch at me real slow, an’ ‘m gonna block it. So, first, jus’ make a fist…tha’s right…”

He checked her hand position and her arm set-up where she had the fist coiled up against her body, leaning in way too close for his inspection…at least in Elizabeth’s opinion.

“Good,” he instructed the young brunette. “Now, punch forward slowly, jus’ straight out at first…”

She uncoiled her arm and struck onto into the empty air.

“Perfect,” he said with a wide grin, moving across from her. “Now, you’re jus’ gonna do it while ‘m here, an’ ‘ll block it real gentle-like. So, we bow first…” Julia followed his lead. “…And now hit me.”

Elizabeth examined his technique desperately for flaws and let out a little sigh of disappointment when she saw none.

“See that?” Spike addressed the class as a whole. “Din’t attack ‘er or anythin’. Jus’ redirected the force ‘f her blow so that it went off to the side. Now, all you new folks pair up with anyone in uniform, an’ they’ll take you through it nice an’ easy…”

Elizabeth found herself paired up with a skinny guy with glasses. She let him practice hitting her a few times so that he could watch how she blocked. Satisfied that he’d gotten the arm motion down correctly, she let him deflect her own blows a couple dozen times, correcting his form occasionally.

“We doin’ all right here?” Spike had snuck up behind her and whispered into her ear.

“Great,” she said through tight lips. She could actually feel his breath on the back of her neck…

Her sparring partner nodded as well.

“Good job, luv,” Spike gave her a little smile before going to check on the next pair.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and turned back to the drills. The entire class proceeded like that, sequentially going through the first few basic kicks as well as several other blocks. It wasn’t half the workout she was used to, but it seemed to fit the stamina of the beginners well. By the time Spike finally let them out – half an hour early – most were looking pretty exhausted.

Elizabeth herself followed Spike and Kendra back into Wesley’s office where they found him grading papers, of all things.

“I’m actually an English professor,” he explained off of Elizabeth’s look, “but I volunteered for this as well, since I was qualified.”

She nodded in understanding, and the four of them headed back out to the mats. “What do you want me to do?” she asked.

“Just do a quick, light spar with Kendra here,” Wesley instructed, “your standard warm-up and all…”

Elizabeth and Kendra exchanged a quick bow before engaging in a quick series of kicks and blocks.

“Not half bad,” Spike commented under his breath to Wesley.

“Pretty damn good,” Wesley agreed, watching Kendra fall to the mat as Elizabeth scored. “See that?” he couldn’t help but ridicule his best student. “That’s known as ‘patience’. Perhaps you’d do better if you learned some…”

Spike chuckled at that and watched Kendra fall for a second time. Elizabeth held back her blow and waited for her opponent to rise.

“That’s good enough,” Wesley clapped his hands to stop their bout.

Elizabeth and Kendra exchanged a quick final bow. “You’re very good,” Kendra said with a thick accent and a shy little smile.

“You, too,” Elizabeth returned her smile.

“Elizabeth, why don’t you try a quick bout with Spike,” Wesley instructed. “Kendra, you can go home now…”

Elizabeth gulped inwardly when Spike stepped onto the mat across from her. She never exactly sparred with someone who affected her the way he did, and she wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

“Lookin’ forward to our rough an’ tumble,” Spike couldn’t help but tease. It was just the way she looked in her uniform, all tiny and fierce and powerful…not to mention completely beautiful. He bit back the strange emotions that stirred within him every time she was around and focused on the matter at hand.

They exchanged a brief courteous bow and then…

Well, all hell broke loose.

Elizabeth came at him right away with a fast flurry of kicks and punches, all of which he blocked flawlessly. She leapt high when his leg swung out to try to sweep her from beneath her and turned the move into a high kick to fend him off until she could regain her footing.

He was definitely on the attack by the time she did so, raining an intricate combination of kicks and feints that had her gasping for breath to keep up. Finally, he managed to catch her off-balance on one of her blows and used the opportunity to send her rolling onto the mat.

She took a deep breath to quell her anger and quickly rose to her feet again, bowing slightly to acknowledge the point…but not the match.

She expanded her moves, using more innovative back kicks and flips this time, judging that he’d be able to handle her at her infuriated best.

He faltered a bit at her infamous spinning kick back-flip combo, and she caught his ankle, sending him to the mat.

It was Spike’s turn to recover himself then. He gave her an impressed little smile when he stood up and bowed once more.

What followed was an alternating series of blows and blocks so blindingly fast that even Wesley had difficulty keeping up with it. Both opponents were giving this one their all, playing with speed, rhythm, form, pattern. A small smile crossed the young instructor’s face at how they were absolutely going to mop up Regionals with Elizabeth as the latest addition to their team…

Tired, sweating, and panting, Elizabeth and Spike both found their openings at exactly the same time. They each froze, their hands only millimeters from the other’s throat, and their eyes widened when they realized that they’d each completed their attack perfectly in sync.

They exchanged a quizzical look, each asking if the other knew who had beat who to the punch.

“So, who’s ‘s that then?” Spike finally felt obliged to ask Wesley after a moment’s pause.

“I would give it to her,” Wesley said with a teasing smile, “since someone dropped their elbow prior to the recoil… Although I suppose it could be judged either way.”

Spike conceded the hit anyway, looking up at her through long lashes during his bow. Elizabeth felt her face reddening yet again. Dammit, how did he do that? She hadn’t blushed this much since junior high…

“Well, on that exciting note, I’ll think we’ll call it a night,” Wesley announced, “and congratulations on a match very well fought. You two shall have to spar together more next time. You’re a quite an excellent match for each other.”

“Was jus’ thinkin’ the same thing,” Spike flashed a lascivious smile in Elizabeth’s direction, letting her know that he wasn’t just talking about their fighting prowess.

“Well, next week then,” Wesley shook Elizabeth’s hand once again. “We shall greatly enjoy having you on the team, won’t we, Spike?”

“Oh yeah,” Spike agreed, his tongue curling up beneath his teeth.

Elizabeth blushed again. Before inwardly swatting herself for blushing so much. I mean, what was she, some love-struck schoolgirl? Certainly not for Spike. No way, no how…

* * *

Elizabeth stepped from the gym into the warm night air and wasn’t at all surprised to see that Spike had waited for her there. He quickly put out his cigarette, giving her an almost shy grin as she approached him.

“How many times a day does someone tell you that those things will kill you?” she asked wryly.

“Far too often,” he smiled slightly.

Elizabeth bit her lip. Usually she found smoking repulsive, but the way Spike had been doing it, all casual sex and black leather…

“You heading back to Westing?” he asked.

“What,” she couldn’t help but tease, “you need a big, strong woman to walk you home at night and keep you safe?”

“’Ey!” he exclaimed, offended. “’ll have you know that I plan on winnin’ back my manly honor next week!”

She gave him an amused little smile. “Not a chance,” she informed him. “Your manhood is mine.” She realized a second too late just how that sounded and groaned just as the wicked smile curled across his lips.

“’f you want it so badly…” he needled her.

“Fine, fine,” she sighed, “you got me on that one.”

“So, Summers,” he said, still gloating in his slight victory, “how long you been doin’ Tae Kwon-Do?”

“Since I was seven,” she admitted. “You?”

“Nine.”

“Ah,” she nodded. “You’ve got a rather…mixed style.”

“An’ you don’t?” he retorted. “I saw that li’l judo block…”

“And you were half doing Aikido,” she retorted. “What else’ve you done? Karate? Looked like a bit of Kung Fu, too…”

He nodded. “You?”

“Karate, tai chi, a lot of judo, a bit of kickboxing, too,” she admitted.

“Hmm, quite the little killin’ machine, aren’t you, luv?” he joked.

“Remember that next time you annoy me,” she retorted.

He chuckled slightly at that. “You should help with the lesson plan,” he suggested. “We tend to dabble a bit in other arts jus’ for the hell of it.”

“Sounds fun,” she agreed. “I’m always willing to expand my horizons.”

“In fact,” he instinctively went for the innuendo just like he always did when she was present, “’d love to try a little Brazilian jiu-jitsu with you…”

She gulped. The art was actually very sophisticated, but to the common eye, it didn’t look like much more than mud wrestling without the mud.

“All close an’ intimate,” he practically purred. “’d just love to get down on the mat with you an’ see what we can do…” They had stopped, having reached their destination, and his lips were only a hairsbreadth from her ear as he said these last words.

She felt her entire body burn at his nearness and suddenly had the nearly overwhelming urge to just say yes. Sanity quickly reasserted itself, however, and she took a step back, opening the door to Westing Hall and stepping inside.

“Don’t you ever give up?” she demanded of him as he followed her up the spiral staircase that led to their house.

“Never with you,” he promised her with a little wink. “Speakin’ of which… Oz’s band’s playin’ down at the Blue Club tonight. Most ‘f the house is goin’. Care to join us?”

She gave him an apologetic smile. “Delta Phi party tonight,” she told him. “I’m already late. I was supposed to help with the set-up and all…”

“Next time?” he asked hopefully.

“Sure,” she agreed with a small smile.

“You know ‘m just gonna keep askin’ till you say yes,” were his parting words before he vanished into his room.

And Elizabeth let out a deep, longing sigh before turning back to the important task of getting in good with the girls at Tri Xi…

TBC