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Author's Chapter Notes:
I'm back! I found that I just couldn't stay away from my favourite couple for too long. So I'm back to purge a story idea that's been hanging out in my head for a few years now. Don't know where it's heading yet, but then that's half the fun isn't it. I hope you enjoy.

NOTE: I'm Australian, not American and our university systems are wildly different. So if there are huge disparities in this story regarding what would actually happen in an American university/college I would appreciate it if you guys could email me to let me know and I'll do what I can to fix them.

Please leave me love if the love moves you.
Chapter One

Buffy Summers, well-respected psychology lecturer at the Sunnydale Campus of the University of California, hung up the phone with a satisfying slam.

“This is ridiculous,” she exclaimed to her empty office. “What does she expect? I’m not Superwoman.”

Flipping through her diary, Buffy wondered how she would manage to fit another Masters student into her schedule. She was already supervising three other Masters students, two PhDs and was teaching four large undergraduate classes. On top of all that, were the research papers she had to write up.

“There goes that bit of social life I was hoping to squeeze in,” she muttered irritably.

Grabbing her empty coffee cup she strode down the long corridor to the staff lounge. The pot in the coffee machine was empty. With an unladylike curse she banged her cup down on the bench and set about making a fresh pot. Thanks to her mood she did so with more vigour than finesse, only to end up knocking her coffee mug to the floor.

“Damn it!” With a groan of frustration she bent down to pick up the broken remnants of her favourite mug.

“Would you like a hand there, love?”

Startled by the voice behind her she tried to look around, overbalanced and fell on her butt. The voice chuckled, adding to her frustration. Denim-clad legs appeared before her, along with one outstretched hand.

Rolling her eyes at her own clumsiness, Buffy allowed him to help her up. “Thank you,” she said crisply as she straightened her tailored skirt and silk blouse. “I didn’t realise there was anyone in here.”

Now that she was slightly less dishevelled, she turned to look at her would be rescuer and found herself looking into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. Full lips and high, sharp cheekbones were framed by shockingly blonde hair.

Outwardly, Buffy managed a simple, polite smile, a slight flush colouring her cheeks. On the inside, however, her long-deprived hormones were rioting at the sight of all that mouth-watering maleness. Absently, she noticed his mouth was moving and shook her head as she realised he was speaking.

“…didn’t mean to startle you.”

Clearing her throat, she returned her attention to the coffee machine to keep from staring at him. “Don’t worry about it. I just wasn’t paying attention.”

He bent down to retrieve the remains of her mug and drop them into a nearby bin.

“Thanks,” she murmured as she grabbed one of the ceramic white mugs that sat on the shelf above her and filled it with fresh, steaming coffee.

“You did seem a little preoccupied,” he observed. “Nothing too bad I hope.”

“It’s nothing,” she replied, shaking her head. “I just had another student foisted onto me is all. I’m already having trouble finding time for my existing students.”

“Oh.” He looked a little awkward and she felt bad for badmouthing her students. After all, if it wasn't for them she'd be out of a job.

Silence filled the room as they stared at one another. She knew she should go. She had a ton of work waiting on her desk. “I haven’t seen you before, are you just starting work here?” she asked, unable to tear herself away.

“No,” he replied with a smile. “I’m a student actually. I just had a meeting with Professor Evans and was finishing up some notes before I left.” He offered her his hand. “I’m Spike by the way.”

She hoped he didn't notice the disappointment that she was sure clouded her face. He's a student. Translation: Off limits. Damn.

“Buffy Summers,” she said as she shook his hand. His grip was firm, his skin warm and she felt her heart rate speed up as a tingling sensation travelled up her arm. Get a grip, Buffy.

“You’re Professor Summers?” He seemed surprised.

“That’s right. Why?”

He hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. “Nothing. I just…I’ve read your work on relationship satisfaction. I really enjoyed it.”

Buffy blushed at his compliment. “Oh, umm, thank you.” I'm blushing now? What am I twelve? Since when do I blush?

“I should get back to work.” Clearing her throat self-consciously, she picked up her coffee cup and forced herself to head towards the door. She turned to drink in the delectable sight of him one more time and found he was still watching her. Suddenly she felt naked. “It was nice meeting you, Spike,” she forced out, with a bright smile. “Good luck with your studies.” Then, in what she considered to be a very brave manner, she practically ran out of the room and bolted down the corridor to her office. Oh boy. I know who’ll be starring in my fantasies tonight.

**********

Later that day, Buffy was just adding a few final touches to her lecture notes for the following afternoon when there was a knock on the door.

“Come on in,” she called, wishing her unwanted new Masters student didn’t have to be so punctual. Now remember, Buffy, it’s not his fault he was assigned to you against your will. So be nice.

Hearing the door open and close behind her she murmured, “Take a seat and I’ll be with you in just a second.” Her fingers rushed across the keys as she completed her last paragraph before saving the document and, with a sense of satisfaction, closed down the program.

“Okay,” she said with a deep breath. “Now, you must be William Giles.” Swivelling in her chair she turned to her new student – and nearly choked. “Spike!”

His head snapped up and she found herself blushing yet again as she realised he’d been checking out her legs.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I thought you were…”

“I am,” he said, as if suddenly finding his voice. “William Giles at your service. But, most people call me Spike.”

A distinct feeling of dread curled its way through Buffy's stomach. “And you are my…”

“…new Masters student,” he finished for her. “I know I should have said something when we met earlier but…well, you seemed to be so...well...put out about being lumped with me. I didn’t want our relationship to start off on the wrong foot.”

She just gaped at him. “Our relationship?”

“Yeah. You know, you supervisor, me student. That is why I’m here.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” Raking her fingers through her hair she tried to get her racing pulse back under control.

He smiled. She melted.

“Oh, and this is for you.” He reached into his bag and plopped a brand new coffee mug on her desk. It had flying pigs on it. It was the size of a soup bowl. She loved it.

Buffy stared from him to the mug and back again. Only two words came to her befuddled mind. Holy crap!





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