The bell rang, signaling it was time for second block. Spike thought the Sex Pistols were onto something with “Schools Are Prisons.” He walked slowly, almost decrepitly, to his class, thinking all about Buffy along the way. He tried his damnest to think about anything besides her, but it was a losing battle. Spike could think about the starvation in Africa or some bill that was passed in 1952 and still, somehow, his thought process would return to Buffy. Yeah, disease is a good word for her.
Spike sat down in the back of his Calculus class this time, hoping that Buffy would get the message and stay in the front where she was seated yesterday. Spike didn’t realize that changing seats to be away from her was a low blow; he just didn’t want a relapse of the closet session. Okay, maybe he wanted that, but he wanted to not want that. Maybe he could want that now, after the closet session, he wasn’t really sure. He was confused, and just needed space.
Buffy entered the classroom, saw Spike in the back, and sat down next to him with a bright smile on her face. She effectively crushed his plan without consciously thinking about it. Or so Spike thought. Spike’s small action did hurt Buffy, she just tried not to show it.
“Take a hint?” Spike whispered over to Buffy as class started.
“I just figured that it would be better if I wasn’t in your view,” Buffy replied with a shrug, a little innocence in her eyes. She was right, of course. Spike might’ve gotten a little... err... excited if Buffy was in front of him. But that still didn’t mean it was fine she was sitting next to him. Spike could feel her presence, it was some unintelligible sixth sense he had, and it made him crazy that she was so close. It was like a wave, a force field, surrounded Buffy, and whenever Spike went inside of it, he was completely lost in her.
“Test tomorrow on derivatives,” Mr. Anderson announced happily. The class responded with grunts and moans.
“Hey, hey, you guys should already know this stuff,” Mr. Anderson put his hands in the air. He figured he’d size them up. “What’s the derivative of cosecant?”
“Tangent x secant x,” Buffy mumbled from the back of the class, more to herself than anything. It was subconscious; she knew it like a baseball aficionado knew Barry Bonds took steroids. No one could be that skinny and suddenly become...
“That’s right, Miss Summers,” Mr. Anderson glanced at Spike with a smile. “Good tutor, I guess.”
Spike was about to interject and state for the record that he hadn’t taught Buffy anything yesterday, but Mr. Anderson was already on his next question. And he thought it would have been a bad idea to bring that up, because someone might question what they had done.
“Derivative of arc secant?” Mr. Anderson asked to the class.
All the students were openly whining now. They didn’t know that they had to remember the arcs, too. That was brutal. That was inhumane. That was like remembering the definition of every word in the dictionary in backwards order. It was impractical, but still mildly useful. The class thought it was impossible to answer the question.
“One over the absolute value of x times the square root of x squared minus one,” Spike murmured from the back of the class akin to Buffy’s mumble. It was subconscious for him, too, like singing the ABCs. A is for Angel and B is for... bloody hell!
Mr. Anderson and all the students stared at Spike, shocked looks washed over their faces.
“That’s correct, Spike,” Mr. Anderson proudly announced. “Nice job.”
It was a good thing Spike knew his stuff, because he wasn’t paying any attention to the lecture on basic trigonometric derivatives that followed. His mind was already preoccupied with thoughts on Buffy. And when he wasn’t thinking about her, he was taking gut wrenching glances at her. Which made him think about her as a result. So, really, all he was doing was thinking about Buffy. Spike wasn’t thinking about anything in particular. He figured that, with Buffy, he’d just let the wave take him wherever it went. It was impossible to control the wave. The Buffy wave, anyway.
Spike took another long glance at Buffy, who must have felt his eyes on her because she kind of reddened in that absolutely adorable Buffy way. His eyes trailed from her soft cheeks to her luscious neck. He couldn’t believe that he was just licking that gorgeous neck not an hour ago. That had to be the smoothest material in the world. And so very vibrant. Delectable. They probably made depressive 90’s grunge songs after her skin. Like that Creep song by Radiohead everyone was raving about. And she put his hand on her...
The bell suddenly rang. It was doing a lot of that lately. All this thinking about Buffy must have eaten up all the time. Spike quickly got up and pretty much ran over to his table in the cafeteria. He didn’t want to be trailing Buffy or anything. That might incite something he didn’t want. Or something that he wanted but didn’t want to want. Err... something he wanted? He didn’t know.
Angel put his lunch bag on the table. It was the same table as yesterday, which meant that they were seated across from Buffy’s table. Spike decided to sit with his back to the opposing faction, hoping that it would efface his thoughts on Buffy. Spike was, of course, sadly mistaken. Nothing could cure that.
“Hey, Spike,” Angel nodded as he sat down. “What’s up?”
“Not much, man,” Spike replied dully, almost glumly. He tried his best to put some zest in his voice, and it’s not that he didn’t want to talk to Angel, because they were good friends and all. Spike just knew what Angel was going to ask him.
“You and Buffy do anything?” Angel had a hopeful look in his eyes as he took a bite of his sandwich.
Spike tried to scoff it off. Do I really wanna tell him? Buffy might care... “Nah, we didn’t... no... definitely not...” Better not take any chances.
Angel eyed Spike, which quickly turned into a long stare. Angel was an expert at prying information out of Spike by not saying anything at all, just by looking at him. Angel’s intense gaze was too much for Spike. He cracked under the pressure.
“Okay, so we did kind of make out,” Spike confessed in a whisper, “but it’s different... I dunno, I went to her house and kind of felt sorry for her. Her life’s pretty fucked up, ‘mate.”
“Like ours isn’t,” Angel chuckled. “How messed up can a varsity cheerleader’s life get? Dog die in a fire?”
Spike sighed. He’ll find out when I’m drunk anyway. “Replace dog with her whole family and you’re close... she thinks it’s her fault. And her guardian, who’s her grandpa, is a drug dealer...”
Angel looked down, trying his best to digest the information. “Oh...”
“Oh,” Spike echoed mockingly to his friend. Spike took some of Angel’s potato chips.
Suddenly the blue eyed man remembered something that might be of use to his friend. “Did you hear about Cordelia?”
“No, what!?” Angel was already up off his chair, ready to fight or run or serve or protect in the name of Cordelia. If she was in trouble...
“Calm down, Superman, everything’s fine.” Spike’s smirk put Angel at ease. “Put the blue cape down. Slowly.”
Angel sat back down and looked quizzically at Spike. “It’s a red cape.”
“Do you want me to tell you or not?”
“Of course... what happened?”
“She broke up with Parker today,” Spike stated flatly.
Angel shot back up again. “I’m gonna do it, I’m gonna ask her out.”
“Little fast, isn’t it? She just broke up with Parker like two hours ago.”
Spike stared blankly at the table. “But I guess it is...”
“It’s Cordelia,” Angel finished for him with a nod. “And if you can makeout with Buffy, with the past you two have, I sure as hell can get a date with Cordelia.” And with the fierce determination of a mother ape who just lost her kin, Angel stomped right over to Buffy’s table to converse with Cordelia.
Spike slid over to Angel’s chair so he was facing the show. It was a baseball game to Spike. A baseball game he bet his house on. He took a few big bites of Angel’s sandwich. Angel and Cordelia were actually having some type of rapport; she wasn’t shooting him down. She smiled brightly at Angel and he responded with a nod. Making plans, are we?
Angel trotted back to the table, a big smile plastered all over his face and a little extra oomph in his walk. He sat down and didn’t say anything.
“Well?” Spike blurted.
Angel feigned innocence. “Well what?”
“Did she say yes?” Curiosity was killing Spike.
“We talked...” Angel was pondering what just happened. “Yeah, we talked...”
“And?”
Angel looked down. “It’s sunny tomorrow.” He sighed. “We talked about the weather.”
Spike chuckled. Not too fast for her, but definitely for him. “Always sunny here.” Spike might have pressed, but he didn’t want to break Angel’s self-esteem. “Paradoxical, if I do bleedin’ say so myself. Livin’ bleakly in sunny weather.”
Angel shyly nodded, glad that they put that behind them, and snatched his sandwich from the clutches of Spike.
Last period was rather uneventful. Spike had an arduous time with his workout. He just didn’t seem to have the same rage or anger as yesterday, and it affected his perseverance and focus. Angel also seemed a little unmotivated, probably still reeling from the news of Cordelia. Lack of news, really.
The workout was a nice vacation from Buffyland for Spike. He didn’t think about her for the entire period. Well, that was a lie. He didn’t think about her until she walked into the room. So maybe three or four minutes. But those three or four minutes, really good minutes in Spike’s mind. But his mind was filled with Buffy, so he couldn’t really trust it anyway.
Spike was getting ready to leave school. He was out in the parking lot on the driver’s side of his black DeSoto, fumbling with the keys, when he heard a familiar voice.
“So where’s your house exactly?”
Spike looked up. It was Buffy. She was on the other side of the car with her hand on the door.
“Buffy, I’m not—”
“Test tomorrow on derivatives,” she echoed with a suggestive bat of her eyelashes, “and I wanna pass.”
Oh boy, I wonder what will happen tonight at Spike’s house! And with no parents! Or chaperons! And, most importantly, with all that want and lust and hate they have for each other. Predictions? By the by, Angel’s suppose to be a parallel to Spike of sorts. This will have Angel/Cordelia, but it’ll definitely not be the focus. Do you think that’s a good idea? I want our favorite twosome to have friends, and what better then another pairing that could mirror them. Next update will probably be after the new year, just an fyi.