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Author's Chapter Notes:
I've been reading Spuffy fics for years, and although this isn't my first authored fic, it is my first Spuffy fic. Yay!

So, anyway, this one is an odd cross between Fantasy and Canon. Almost everyone is human and in high school. Read on and I hope you guys like!
Sunnydale kinda reminds me of one of those unrealistic 50s television shows that come on at three in the mornin' during Nick at Nite. It’s kinda like Pleasantville, ya know, without the freaky color changes an' that annoyingly poncey Toby Maguire character—before he becomes Spiderman I mean.

It’s got this boring, yet homey sort of order t' it. And at the same time, it’s this place where dreams come true. Kinda like Disneyland without all the ridiculously long lines an' outrageously priced vending food. An' without those fucking Disney characters in huge costumes. Whose sodding idea was it anyway t' have those scary ass Disney animals running 'round the theme park pretending to be friendly creatures? They can bloody give kids nightmares for ages.

But I digress.

Sunnydale is a town where there’s probably only one high school, one diner, an' one un-fuckable brand of girl. Everyone probably knows each other, what with the whole never bein' able t' get out of this small town deal. And 'M sure the biggest pride and joy this little village has is its high school football team, which, not ta mention, probably hasn’t won a bloody game in eons.

All this kinda makes a bloke want ta heave.

“Anything interesting going on in that bleached head of yours?”

I break my gaze from the car window at my Aunt Jenny’s teasing question. I give her a sardonic smile. “Yeah. ‘M thinkin’ about how much I’m gonna hate this fucking place.”

She chuckles, stopping at a red light. “Yeah well don’t write this place off just yet. I’m sure you’ll learn to love this sunny little town.”

“Yeah, like a bloody hole in my bloody head,” I mumble, turning back t' the window.

She looks at me, her face suddenly turnin' a bit more serious. “You know why you’re father sent you here. If it wasn’t for all the trouble you were getting into back in England, you wouldn’t have to be here.”

I guess she was tryin' t' make me feel guilty or somethin'. Aunt Jenny's real good at makin' me feel guilty for things. She can be like that sometimes.

“My father’s a bloody wanker," I respond.

Aunt Jenny gives me a look. “Hey. That’s my big brother you’re talking about.”

“You’re big brother’s a big wanker,” I assure her. “And I don’ know what kind of trouble you guys are talkin' about.”

She gives me another look. “You don’t remember breaking into your headmaster’s house, stealing his valuable belongings, and then burning down his house?”

Oh yeah. That.

It’s really not what it sounds like. Sure I broke into the guy’s house. And yeah I may 'ave knicked a thing or two. An' the part about the burning of the house may be a bit true as well. I swear there was a reason for all this. But if I tol' you, you probably wouldn’t believe me.

'Member how I implied my severe dislike for the entity that seems t' be Sunnydale? Well there’s a reason for that too. Sure I’d like to go to all the football games and then after, maybe hit up the one diner in town, then grab a few drinks with a group of other good-for-nothing teenagers. I even look forward t' prying the knickers off those un-fuckable girls. Yeah, all that rot.

But I bloody well can’t.

Aunt Jenny pulls into the driveway of a quaint two-story house. “Home sweet home,” she says with a smile.

1628 Rovello Drive.

I get out of the car and grab my bags from the trunk as Aunt Jenny opens the door to the house. I stay behind, taking in my surroundings. It’s a nice neighborhood I’d wager. I peek around to the house next door. Three teens around my age are on the lawn idly kicking around a football...or what you misguided Yanks would call a soccer ball. The other two laugh as the red head kicks an' misses in an amusing show of un-coordination.

“That’s the second time you’ve done that Wills!” The other teen, a boy laughs. “Never realized foot-eye coordination was a problem for you.”

The red head in overalls smiles, sticking her tongue out at him. “I happen to believe in the theory that the third time’s the charm,” she says, foot finally connecting with the ball.

“Don’t listen to Xander, Wills,” says the blonde girl with amazingly sexy legs. “He’s just reveling in the fact that he’s finally better than you at something. And not much better at that!”

I watch as the three continue to laugh and joke, kicking the ball back and forth amongst themselves. But my attention is particularly focused on the hot blonde with the cute little ass and bouncing hair. She’s got this incredibly shiny blonde hair, you know, the kind that you see in those shampoo commercials. She smiles as they continue to kick the ball back and forth, laughing in a way that could really get a guy’s blood pumpin' if ya know what I mean. What I wouldn’t do right now to pry apart those dimpled knees.

I shake my head and chuckle at my sudden lapse in sanity. She was one of those un-fuckable Sunnydale girls. One who was probably too prude and pure to get involved with a bastard like me. You see, besides having what my father calls an intolerable penchant for swearing, I also can never keep my room clean, I procrastinate like nobody’s business, I rarely think before I act, and I’m a tad bit unreliable. I’m also a bit of a prick if you haven’t picked up on it yet.

“You comin’ in anytime soon William?” I hear Aunt Jenny call from inside the house.

I continue to shake my head and turn around to head into my new home.

Yeah, I could never allow myself t' be with a girl like her. I’m the Slayer after all. I don’t even really have time for a girlfriend anyway.

“Home sweet home,” I sigh softly, entering the house.
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“What’s with the Billy Idol reject?” Buffy asked as she spotted a shock of bleach blonde hair making its way into the house next door.

“Maybe Miss Calendar finally got herself a new boyfriend,” Xander guessed, kicking the ball to Willow. “The last guy was kind of creepy if you ask me. It’s about time she got a little nookie though. I’d definitely like to tie her up and do some things with her that would involve a snake skin belt and some miracle whip.” He paused and quickly looked up at the two girls, hoping that he’d only said that in his head.

Buffy and Willow stared back at him awkwardly, cringing at the thought. “In an effort to cancel out the now very vivid image of my best friend and my neighbor getting it on, I’d guess that she probably has some family visiting or something.”

Willow nodded. “I like that suggestion. Much more imagination friendly.” She went back to Buffy’s front porch, taking a seat on the steps. “Ooh, you think he’s our age?”

“Much more importantly, is he of the cute kind?” Buffy wondered, her and Xander sitting next to Willow.

Xander gave her a look. “Hello? Billy Idol reject? Remember? There’s definitely nothing cute about that.” The girls rolled their eyes.

“And he lives right there, Buffy,” Willow pointed out animatedly. “He could so be the boy next door and you guys could climb into the others’ window every night to console each other whenever you want to get away from your fighting parents. Like those bad teen movies from the 90s.”

Buffy nodded excitedly, playing along. “Oh yeah, and after years of being just friends, we’ll realize how deep our feelings are for one another!” The girls keeled over giggling.

Xander looked at them as if they were crazy. “Uh, hello again? Are we forgetting the very undeniable fact that this guy is Miss Calendar’s newest boy toy? And more importantly, are we forgetting about Angel, Buffy? Whom you like very, very much, I might add,” he reminded her.

Buffy clutched her stomach, trying to catch her breath from the laughter. “Lighten up Xander. I’m allowed to look at guys other than Angel. It’s not like you care for his feelings at all anyway.”

“I do care about Angel’s feelings!” he exclaimed, offended. “In the way that…. I don’t really. But still. No more jokes about next door neighbor hijinks. Makes me uncomfortable.”

“Probably about as uncomfortable as your whole miracle whip and snake skin belt fantasy with Miss Calendar makes us,” Buffy reminded him, “Which, by the way, I can go for the rest of my life not knowing about.” Willow nodded her head in support of Buffy’s stance. “And anyway, there wouldn’t be any next door neighbor hijinks occurring now would there? Besides the whole Angel semi-boyfriend deal, there’s also the busy with school deal, and of course, you know, the whole fighting demons deal.”

They all went silent, enjoying the sun setting behind the trees.

Willow nodded pensively. “Yeah, the whole Slayer thing can definitely be a turn-off.”

Again they were silent, listening to the stillness of the early evening.

“My mom’s making quesadillas,” Buffy informed, breaking the quiet. “You guys up for some?”

The other two shrugged, down for anything made by Joyce’s magical cooking hands. They all hurried off into the Summers household, leaving the soccer ball on the lawn to fend for itself in the midst of scary demons and vampires.


Chapter End Notes:
*Gasp!* More than one Slayer? What's going on here?

Hehe.

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