“So, how is it going with Spike?” Willow asked Buffy after their last class while they walked to their lockers.
“So well that the thought of driving off a cliff sounds like fun,” Buffy answered, stopping in front of her locker and entering the combination into her lock. “I can’t wait for this week to end.”
“It’s only Monday,” Willow said, raising an eyebrow, and Buffy rested her head against her locker door, shutting her eyes and sighing.
“Don’t remind me,” she said. “I wish you wouldn’t have convinced me to do this.”
“It was for charity,” Willow replied. “You were doing a good thing.”
“You’re not the one who has to deal with her ‘master’ at school,” Buffy said, putting some books into her locker. “Oz doesn’t go here. Hell, he isn’t even in high school!”
“It really could be worse,” Willow said, shrugging. “I mean, did you see Andrew and Faith at lunch today? I swear she was giving him a lap-dance.” Buffy giggled and shook her head. “And hey, Spike’s not abusive or anything, so that’s a plus. He’s just a jerk who enjoys things that are degrading to women.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” Buffy said sarcastically, looking at Willow and taking a deep breath. “You really owe me for this mess, by the way. I demand lots of ice cream and a girls’ night next week.”
“You’ve got it, buddy,” Willow said, smiling. “We’ll kick back in the company of popcorn, some Ben and Jerry’s, and a box of Kleenex for the depressing dramas we always watch.”
“That’s music to my ears,” Buffy said right before Spike appeared beside her, grinning.
“Hello, Summers,” he said, and Buffy shut her locker.
“Whereas that is not,” she replied, looking at him. “What is it?”
“Wow, pet, could you be less happy to see me?” he asked, pouting slightly.
“Want to find out?” she asked sharply, and he handed her his backpack. “Is this empty?”
“Not quite,” he answered. “Just the stuff you need to do my English essay for me.”
“What?” she asked loudly, her eyes widening.
“I have an English essay due tomorrow that needs to be done,” he replied, crossing his arms. “So it’s your job to complete it.”
“Like hell,” she answered. “That’s against school rules! I can’t do your paper for you, especially if it’s graded.”
“Hey, you should be surprised I’m even trusting you with it,” he said. “For all I know, you could purposely bollocks it up so I fail, but I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.”
“That’s because you haven’t gotten a good grade on a paper for as long as I’ve known you,” Buffy said. “And I’ll have you know that I excel at writing, thank you very much.”
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Willow said, looking at Buffy. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Will,” she said, giving her a small smile.
“Bye, Red,” Spike replied, giving her a small wave. “And thank you and your boy for driving her to my place the other night.” Willow looked between Buffy and Spike before smiling.
“It was our pleasure,” she said. “I’m just happy she didn’t kill you.” Spike watched Willow walk away with a surprised expression.
“Can we go home now?” Buffy asked quietly, looking away. “If I have to write this stupid essay, I’d like to get started on it soon.” He nodded, and they began to walk towards the door to leave. “What’s it supposed to be about?”
“Feminism,” Spike answered, smirking. “I figured you’d like to jump on that topic, especially since you seem like a girl who’d worship Betty Friedan.”
“Who?” Buffy asked, confused.
“The bird who wrote ‘The Feminine Mystique’,” he answered. She stopped walking and looked at him, smirking.
“Maybe you’re the one who likes women’s rights so much,” she said, tilting her head.
“I like women, I like rights- why can’t I like them both?” he asked, and she giggled. He smiled and opened the door for her. “Come on, luv- let’s get you home so you can BS your way through my paper.”
* * * * *
Buffy was sitting in front of his computer, researching information on Google, when Spike came in the room and sat on his bed, watching her.
“How’s it going?” he asked. “Have you started yet?”
“Since you haven’t been kind enough to show me any notes, I’ve had to look up stuff for the last hour,” she replied, annoyed. “So no, I haven’t started your stupid paper yet. At this rate, I won’t even be able to proofread it.” He chuckled. “What’s so funny?”
“You’re worried about proofreading?” he asked, and she frowned. “Why don’t you take a break or something, then?”
“And what task are you going to assign me if I decide to ‘take a break’?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him, narrowing her eyes. He raised his hands in surrender.
“Why are you being so bloody defensive?” he asked. “I’m just trying to be nice.”
“I really doubt that,” she said, looking at the computer screen again. “You always have an ulterior motive.”
“That’s not true,” he replied, crossing his arms. “I can be a nice guy. I made you breakfast the other day, didn’t I?”
“After being a jerk,” she said, shrugging. “Example the first- of you being mean.”
“Fine,” he replied. “Don’t take a sodding break- I don’t bloody care. Exhaust yourself- that’s fine with me. Just as long as my paper gets finished.” He stood up and walked to the door before stopping and turning to look at her. “You know, Summers, I’d be a lot nicer to you if you didn’t always antagonize me or pick stupid fights. You always find little ways of setting me off, and sometimes it gets really old. I can sling as many barbs as I want towards you, but it doesn’t change things. It’d be nice for once if we could just go a day without having an argument or getting pissed off with one another. I mean, it probably won’t happen this week because you’re my slave and have to obey me, but-”
“I swear you get off hearing yourself speak,” Buffy cut in, looking at him.
“I get off all kinds of ways,” he replied, instantly grinning. “Want to see?” She glared at him before grabbing a book beside her and throwing it at him. He caught it before it could hit him and chuckled. “What? I was making you a generous offer.”
“‘Generous’?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t need an STD, thanks.”
“I’m clean, luv,” he said with a frown. “Besides, we’d have to shag, and I have a feeling you won’t let me pry apart your dimpled knees.” Her jaw dropped as she stared at him. “What?” She stood up and walked over to him, slapping him across the face. He clenched his jaw before looking at her.
“I hate you,” she said in a low tone. He smirked a little, despite the pain in his cheek.
“I hate you, too,” he replied. “But, luv, if you want to play rough, that’s fine. I wouldn’t mind a bit.” She pushed him back, and he stumbled backwards, out of the room. She instantly slammed his door and locked it, satisfied when she heard him pounding on the door. “Let me back in, pet.”
“Hell no,” she said. “I’ve got to work on your damn paper and can’t focus when you keep yammering on and driving me insane!”
“I swear I’ll break down this door, Buffy,” he said sternly, pounding harder on his door, getting angrier by the second.
“You’ll just make me fix it,” she said quietly before sighing. “Go away, Spike.” He growled and turned on his heel, storming down the hallway and going downstairs. Anne walked into the house and smiled at her son.
“How’s it going, William?” she asked, and he clenched his fists.
“I hate women,” he answered, walking out the front door and getting into his car. Anne watched him in amusement before shaking her head.
“Kids these days,” she said before scouring through the stack of mail she was holding.
* * * * *
“Did you finish?” Spike asked, not bothering to spare Buffy a glance as she slammed the car door behind her the next morning.
“What do you think?” she asked, putting on a pair of sunglasses and looking out the window, wanting nothing more than to ignore him for the rest of the day.
Fat chance of that happening.
“Where is it?”
“In a folder in my bag,” she replied in an irritated voice.
“I don’t know what crawled up your ass and died, but did it ever occur to you to try and be nice? Not often- I know that would be a little too hard for you to comprehend- but once in a blue moon, it could be a good change.”
“Nice?” she asked in a low voice, gritting her teeth as she slowly turned her head to look at him. “You expect me to be nice, Mr. Hot and Cold? You’re a walking contradiction! One minute you can be as happy as can be and the next you’re biting my head off or playing the ‘master’ card. Did it ever occur to you, Spike, that I’m an actual person? I know that’s a little difficult for your brain to understand, but you never know- it could be a good change!” she cried, throwing his words back at him before turning to face the window again.
“So what’s the problem of the hour now?”
“I thought I just covered that,” she muttered under her breath. “You. You are always my problem.”
“That’s a little vague,” Spike said, slamming on the brakes at a stoplight before turning to look at her. “Narrow it down.”
“Alright,” Buffy replied, turning her body toward him. “My problems- would you like them in order of irritation or alphabetically? For example- asshole. That would be you. Point of fact, that would fall in both categories as my number one. The letter ‘B’- bastard. Shall I go on?”
“I’ve got another word for that letter,” Spike growled, hitting the gas as the light turned green.
“But there’s the funny thing, Spike,” she said with a smile. “I know I’m a bitch. That’s the difference between you and me. Yeah, I’ve done some things to you lately that wouldn’t exactly win me the ‘Friendliest’ award when the yearbooks come out, but I know who I am. But you? You’re so twofaced, you don’t even realize it. You look in the mirror and all you see is yourself. You don’t take one look at the people around you unless it benefits your reputation or your grade.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked in a low voice.
“Let me ask you something, Spike. If you bid on and won Faith in that auction, what would you expect her to do? You? Because, and I’m just guessing here, the purchase that you made, namely me, was just a way for you to benefit somehow. And since I’m obviously not one for giving guys a ‘good time’ like so many of the other girls in this school, you wanted two things: to irritate the hell out of me and to get me to do your homework. That’s what I’m good for, right?”
Not giving him a chance to respond as he pulled into a parking space in front of the school, Buffy jumped out of the car and began walking away.
“Buffy-”
“Do me a favor!” she yelled back, turning around to face him as she walked backwards. “Carry your own damn bag today.”
* * * * *
Avoiding Spike for the entire morning, Buffy spent her time in the girls’ restroom and the library, knowing that he wouldn’t set foot in there.
Sitting at one of the large wooden tables during her lunch period, she frowned when her stomach growled.
“No food for you,” she muttered, looking down at her belly. “Don’t be a traitor. Food is not worth running into him.”
Busying herself by going through her backpack, Buffy frowned when she saw the paper that was supposed to be turned in before lunch.
‘Let him fail,’ the evil little voice in her head whispered. ‘He had it coming and he should have done it himself.’
‘But you worked hard on it,’ the good voice reasoned. ‘And it is rather impressive. The teacher will definitely take notice of this one.’
“Stupid good voice,” she muttered to herself, standing up from her seat and collecting her things. “So you drop the paper off and then spend the rest of the day avoiding Spike. Sounds like a plan.”
* * * * *
Walking through the halls after school, Spike nearly growled as he searched for Buffy.
“It figures,” he muttered. “She’s excused from her classes, so she skips the entire day.”
Not that he could blame her. He would have done the same thing if he’d been in her position, but he was already pissed off at the way she’d left things that morning.
“William!”
Not bothering to turn around at the unfamiliar voice and the fact that he never went by his given name, Spike continued to look through the halls for Buffy.
“William!”
Finally turning around with a frown on his face, it only deepened when he saw Ms. Calendar walking toward him.
“Good, I was hoping you hadn’t left for the day,” she said with a friendly smile. “I just wanted to let you know that Buffy dropped off your paper for you. You should have told me that you left it at home and she went to get it.”
Spike arched an eyebrow. “Uh…yeah…sorry about that, but I didn’t know if she’d be able to find it in my room.”
“Well, that’s fine and I wanted to let you know that it was an exceptional piece of work. I’ve never read anything so insightful that was written by one of my students, and I want you to know that I’m just honored you felt compelled to write about such an important topic that is obviously a big deal for you. I’ve already graded yours- I didn’t want it to be seen by anyone who might not understand,” she said, handing him the paper.
“Right,” he said softly. “Thanks.”
Waiting until Ms. Calendar walked away, Spike looked at the cover page, not seeing anything that would give away that he didn’t write the paper. Flipping over the first page, he read the brief synopsis.
A feminist point of view,
looked at from the
homosexual male perspective.
By William Lawson
Feeling short of breath, Spike crumpled the paper in his hand as a red haze entered his vision.
“I’ll kill her.”
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