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Author's Chapter Notes:
*happy dances* This fic has been nominated at the Spuffy Awards for Best Fantasy Angst and Outstanding Fantasy FIc!!!! *hugs and smooches to Sabrina (aka. Spikesluv!!!!!)*

I mean... wow!!! *is still bouncing* And here is Chapter 6 to celebrate the occasion :D

Also, there IS a Buffy/Other warning on the previous chapter and this one. It's VERY mild and NOT graphic and it won't be! I promise.

I intend to answer all the reviews I haven't replied to yet - they're all lovely, constructive, supportive and absolutely treasured - each and EVERY one!! RL is not being kind to me recently so please bear with me *hugs all the readers tight*
“Mom, I brought Angel in to grab a quick-” Buffy’s mouth fell open as she spied William sat at the breakfast bar talking to her mother.

William turned to face them slowly. “Good evening, Buffy. Angel.”

“Angel, this is William, our neighbour.” Joyce filled the dead air as Buffy stood slack jawed in the doorway.

Angel smiled as he slipped his arm around Buffy’s waist. “Hey, Will.”

~~

“Buffy, it’s late. I think it would be a good idea if Angel went home. You can talk at school tomorrow.”

“Am I in trouble?” Buffy asked, eyeing William nervously.

“No, darling. It’s late that’s all.” Joyce smiled warmly at Angel.

William watched this exchange with interest. Joyce was playing this very well, all things considered. Go to battle with a teenager and expect a war. There were smarter ways to win wars than full on confrontation.

“I’ll catch you at school.” Angel leaned over to kiss Buffy lightly on the lips. William flinched and turned away.

“Bye, Mrs. Summers. Bye, Will.” He left the kitchen leaving a very anxious Buffy stood in front of the firing squad.

“What was all that about?”

“Honey, why don’t you sit down?” Joyce stood up and moved around the other side to allow Buffy to sit.

Oh god. He’s told her about my little show. He must think I’m a right slut… and he’s told my mother all about it. Oh god. I’m gonna throw up.

“I know you’ve been struggling in History recently – Mr. Snyder has kept me informed of your… lack of progress.” Joyce tried to be tactful. “And you know how much this has concerned me. However, William has agreed to postpone his summer vacation in order to tutor you.”

“What?” Buffy nearly rocked back off her stool in surprise. “You’re kidding me!”

William couldn’t help but grin. When he realised Buffy had caught sight of it, he disguised it with a cough.

“No, I’m not kidding. When it comes to your future, you can’t afford to be blasé. I understand that you currently have a number of other… interests, shall we say, that appear to rank higher on your priority list than studying. But this – this is non-negotiable.” This was the Mom voice. The stern, no messing voice.

“But!”

“But nothing. I suggest you apologise to William for you apparent lack of gratitude and set about arranging your first tutoring session.” Joyce glared hard at Buffy, as though daring her to voice an objection. “Now, if you’ll excuse me William, I have a phone call to make.”

Joyce left the room – Buffy and William sat facing each other across the breakfast bar once more.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Buffy hissed. “I hate History.”

“Look, I came round to tell your mother I was leaving. But when she told me about your flunking and the problems you’ve been having-” William tried to explain.

“Problems? What problems? The only problem I have is that my hunky as hell neighbour has been flirting like crazy with me and I can’t do a damned thing about it!”

“Don’t even come that with me. I saw your little show.” He curled his tongue in delight at her discomfort.

She flushed a marvellous shade of pink from her neck to the tips of her ears. “So.”

“So? I told you to stay away from me and yet you parade at your window, teasing me.” He leant forwards. “You know full well what you do to me and you enjoy it don’t you?”

“Don’t you?” She whispered.

His eyes rolled in his head at the memory. “God. Yes. I do. But that’s why I was going to leave. Clear my head, get some perspective.”

“And then what? You come back and nothing’s changed. You want me.”

He just looked at her.

“Tell me, William. If you were so intent on leaving, why did you decide to stay?”

“I told you – you’re Mum told me how concerned she was and she knew I had a shot at helping you.”

“Yeah, right. You saw me with Angel. That’s what this is about isn’t it?” It was her turn to be smug. “I’m dating a boy my own age and you can’t handle it. You want me, you can’t have me… but you don’t want anyone else to have me.”

“Bloody hell, get a grip love!” He shook his head but the truth was etched on his face.

“Don’t patronise me. I may be seventeen but I know what it means when a man looks at me like you do.”

“And what’s that?”

Buffy moved around the bar and stood next to him. He turned to her, helpless to look away.

“It means trouble.” She said softly.

“Yeah.”

“I like trouble.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips lightly onto his.

William shuddered at the contact. She pulled away, slowly. Smiling. “You may think you have me all figured out but you don’t.”

“I’m beginning to realise that.” He looked at her, completely thrown.

“You can tell me all about how you want me to stay away from you but I know different.”

“You’re playing grown up games now, pet. This isn’t one of those soppy soap operas.” He tried hard to pull something back, regain his composure.

She visibly faltered. Her mask of confidence slipped for a moment and he saw her for the seventeen year old girl she was. Adorable, naïve and incredibly tempting. But she was also empowered by the discovery that she had an effect on men that rendered them speechless and incapable of coherent thought. So help me God.

“I know.” She threw back her shoulders, tossing her hair

“So, what do you suggest we do about it?” Retain the high ground, be responsible.

“Should I draw you a diagram?” She giggled.

“Seriously. No matter how much I want you or you want me – we can’t do this. I won’t lie to you about it but that doesn’t mean I should act on it.”

“But…”

“But nothing, Buffy. It’s illegal! Your mother has asked me to tutor you for God’s sake!” He was exasperated now.

“I don’t want you to tutor me!”

“You don’t have a choice. I promised you’re mother I’d help and I intend to. Regardless of how I feel about you, if I can help you pass History then I bloody well will.”

“So we’ll just ignore the hippo in the room shall we?” She had her hands on her hips now. Her mouth pouty.

Shit. Bollocks. Dammit. He squeezed his eyes shut before refocusing on the conversation.

“Elephant. The elephant in the room.”

“Oh. Whatever. I don’t know if I can be around you and not…” Her voice tailed off.

“If I can, you can.”

Her eyes narrowed then. “Oh, you can, can you?” That was a challenge if ever she heard one.

“Look…”

“What happened before, at my window, wasn’t illegal was it?” She whispered. “Like, nothing actually happened did it?”

“Well, no.” What is she up to now?

“So say if that happened again, or something… then it wouldn’t technically be breaking the law or anything. Would it?”

“You’re not suggesting…”

“No. Of course not.” She said nonchalantly. A smile playing at the edge of her lips. “I wouldn’t dream of suggesting anything…Mr. Evans.”

Why did her saying his name like that make the room start spinning? He closed his eyes again.

She laughed and he felt his groin tighten. “So…Mr. Evans. When should we meet for our first tutoring session?”





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