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Prison, Pupils, and Passions

“I love the first day of school,” Aunt Jenny told Spike as they pulled up to Sunnydale High in her bright red jeep. “I always get this strange tingly sensation right before the first bell of the year rings.”

Spike made a face. “I’d prefer to know as little as possible about your before-school tinglies, thanks.” He grabbed his backpack and opened the car door, dreading his first day of senior year.

“Hey,” Jenny called, still smiling at him. “Have a good day. And try not to burn the school down?”

He pretended to think for a second and answered, “Can’t make any promises. You can keep an eye on me if it makes you feel better. I’ve got you for fourth period.”

“I’ll try not to make your life too miserable,” she offered before driving off to the faculty parking lot.

He turned around and looked up at his new school. Or as he liked to call it, “prison.” ‘A sunny prison with hundreds of smiling teens, nicely paved walkways, and brilliantly colored flowers,’ he thought, ‘but a prison nonetheless.’ Some students cheerfully reunited with classmates they hadn’t seen since the summer began, while the freshmen looked around nervously, searching for friends they’d known in middle school.

Spike smirked. It was always easy to spot the freshmen. He wondered how many of them he could terrorize before school let out.

He tried to ignore the looks he was getting from some of the students. With his large combat boots, bright hair, and potentially dangerous jacket, it was hard not to stare. As much as Spike seemed to crave attention, it always made him a bit uneasy to have all eyes on him. Before he was called to Slayerdom, the only time his classmates paid any attention to him was when some bully was pummeling him into the concrete.

“Spike-O!” he heard a voice call from a few yards away. He turned and spotted Xander and Oz who were headed towards him. “Fancy catching you here,” Xander greeted when they caught up to Spike. “We sort of made a bet on whether or not you’d show up.” He grabbed a bill from his pocket and reluctantly placed it into Oz’s outstretched hand.

Spike chuckled as they walked through the hallway among a crowd of students. “You almost won that bet, Harris.”

“Oh, come on Spike. Sunnydale High isn’t that bad. The food’s only slightly toxic and the principal has toned down his Nazi ways. You’ve come at the perfect time! Plus, this school’s got some real hotties.”

“Hotties?” interrupted a familiar female voice. “You wouldn’t know a hottie if she pounced on you, which, she wouldn’t.” Cordelia stood beside Anya and another blonde girl by their lockers, taking a break from gossiping about first-day fashions.

Xander eyed Cordy. “Oh, Cordelia. What a ray of sunshine you are. School hasn’t even started yet and already you’ve managed to insult me.”

“Oh please, Xander Harris,” she responded, “you insulted yourself with that tragic shirt you’re wearing.” The other two girls giggled. Cordy turned towards Spike, completely ignoring the other two boys. “Spike I don’t believe you’ve met Harmony, a very good friend of mine.”

The blonde girl held out her hand in that dainty way that Spike hated. But that didn’t matter. She was cute and he could see himself in between her legs in the very near future. He took her hand and gave it a kiss. “Nice to meet you Harmony.” She blushed and giggled again.

“Well,” said Anya, “We must go. Operation get-Mr. Wyndham-Price-into-bed goes into full effect today. Must prepare.” The girls quickly made their exit.

“That was nice,” Oz said.

--

“Oh my God I can’t believe I’m starting my first day of high school!” Dawn squealed as they made their way into the building.

Buffy and Willow shared amused glances. “She’s been like this all morning,” explained Buffy. “I caught her downstairs munching on coffee grounds. It might explain the hyperness.” Willow nodded in understanding.

“I did no such thing,” Dawn denied indignantly. “You’re just jealous school makes me happy.” She squealed again when she saw her best friend Janice, and left the other two without so much as a “see you later.”

“So,” began Willow, “what happened after Spike left your room?”

Buffy sighed, not sure if she wanted to relive the entire confusing experience all over again. “I just sat there, wondering if that last part even happened. I mean, he was all nice and gentle. Which is a far cry from the arrogant jerk he tends to be. The whole thing made my stomach go all floppy.”

“Floppy like you-ate-something-bad, or nervous-before-a-test floppy?

“Floppy like given-the-chance-I-think-I-would-have-made-out-with-the-annoying-neighbor-last-night.”

“Oh, of course.”

“I don’t understand Wills. He gets on my nerves and makes me so angry! My stomach shouldn’t be doing any sort of flopping.”

Willow felt bad for her friend’s confusion. “He’s a nice guy, Buffy. I still don’t see what you find so agitating about him.”

“Speaking of the devil…” They spotted him with Oz and Xander as he placed a kiss on Harmony’s hand. “Looks like he’s already getting acquainted with the floozies of Sunnydale High.”

For some reason, a small pang of jealousy went through her, which only served to make her angrier. As the other three girls left, Buffy and Willow approached the guys. Oz wrapped his girlfriend into a warm hug.

“Nice to see you too,” Willow smiled at him.

“A whole two days of being apart,” teased Xander. “Must have been torture.”

Willow stuck her tongue out at him. “Hater.”

Spike shook his head at their silly antics. “Harris’ encounter with Cordelia put him in a sour mood.” He looked over at Buffy and smiled hopefully. “Hello, friend.”

Buffy nodded in his direction, trying not to blush, but probably failing miserably. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t help thinking about their last encounter. “Spike,” she replied in greeting.

Spike’s grinned at the pink color that rose in her cheeks but decided not to comment. He didn’t want to get on her bad side this early on in the day. No, he’d wait until later before risking her rage.

“I’ll see you lot later,” Spike said as the first bell rang. “I’ve got a date with Principal what’s-his-face.” They all grimaced. “That bad huh?” he guessed.

Xander nodded. “Let’s just hope Snyder is fond of ripped jeans and safety pins.”

--

“I absolutely detest your pathetic excuse for jeans,” Principal Snyder told Spike from across the desk. “And are those safety pins on your jacket? What exactly are you trying to hold together? My mother always said a man with too many safety pins is a man who cannot be trusted. God rest her soul.”

Spike stared at the older man, wondering if this guy was for real. He’d spent 45 minutes listening to Snyder talk about his hatred for teenagers and his obsessive suspicion of British people. Spike could tell that he and this man would not get along.

“I’m keeping my eye on you Calendar. One wrong move and you and your pretty blonde hair are out of here. You can take your Aunt Jennifer along with you. Lord knows I’ve been trying to fire her for the last year.” He handed Spike a note. “Meet with Mr. Giles, our librarian, after school and he’ll give you all your books and get you caught up.” He eyed the student as if he were a cockroach. “You look like you need all the help you can get.”

Spike grabbed his bag and made his way to 2nd period. He had the strong urge to skip class altogether but had this creepy feeling that Snyder was actually watching him. He sighed and wondered how many drinks it would take him to get through the rest of this day. His fingers itched to grab the flask he’d hidden in his backpack that morning.

He found his English Literature class and entered the room. As soon as he walked in, all eyes landed on him.

God, he hated it when all eyes landed on him.

Spike spotted Buffy sitting off to the side and breathed a sigh of relief. He was pretty sure this was the most relieved he’d ever been to see her. He made a beeline for the empty seat next to her, ignoring the feminine giggles following him.

“I miss anything?” he whispered as he slid into the seat next to her.

She shook her head and continued to doodle into her notebook. “Not unless you enjoy the uncomfortable ritual of first-day introductions,” she answered.

He breathed out gratefully. “No, definitely don’t enjoy that.” He watched her for a moment as she scribbled some things onto her paper and pretended to listen to the teacher up front. Her chin rested on her palm, a look on her face that said she was at that place teenage girls go to when they have things on their mind.

Spike wondered what that place looked like.

“So what’s this guy on about then?” Spike broke into her thoughts, nodding towards the teacher in the stiff black suit.

Buffy rolled her eyes, still not looking at him. “What do I look like, your personal secretary?”

He chuckled, leaned back in his seat, and placed his hands behind his head confidently. “Do you want the position, pet?”

“I’m sure the applications are just flooding in.”

“I’ll put yours at the top.”

She smiled and turned to look at him. He was grinning at her with that cocky look on his face that should have incited within her a feeling of annoyance. But it was sexy as hell. Not to her though, of course. Just in general.

“We’re reading The Catcher in the Rye,” she finally told him. “Ever read it?”

He shrugged flippantly, implying he’d never heard of the book. He didn’t mention that he’d read it when he was eight years old. And six times more since then. He instead focused his attention toward the front. Their teacher sounded British and looked too young to be instructing a room full of high school students.

Spike strummed his black-polished nails on the desk, trying to listen to the man at the front of the room. But after a few minutes of paying attention, Spike decided he’d rather bother Buffy. His eyes drifted to her doodling pen. He leaned over to see what she was writing, but caught a hard kick to his leg.

“Nosey much?” Buffy admonished, satisfied that her kick left him rubbing his shin in pain. She closed her notebook and geared her attention to the teacher. Spike winced. “That’s a tough punishment for being curious don’t you think luv?” She didn’t answer him.

“So, for the first half of the semester,” continued the teacher, who Spike learned was named Mr. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, “we’ll be looking at works of prose, especially within the realm of American Literature. The second half, we’ll analyze poetry in which you all will master a number of different literary devices. And now, I’ll leave you to your own devices.” He chuckled at his clever play on words. No one else did.

A girl in the front row raised her hand. “Anyanka,” Mr. Wyndam-Pryce called on her.

“Will you be offering one-on-one tutoring sessions?”

He thought about it for a second, never once having heard that request from a student. “Of course, if a student finds it necessary.”

“Oh, it’s necessary,” she answered with a slow smile.

The bell rang, bolting the students from their seats. Wesley watched the students leave the classroom, thinking he’d already started this year on a good note.

--

“So where you headed to next Summers?” Spike asked, leaning against the locker next to hers and scoping out Sunnydale High’s female population. It was that awkward time of year right before summer ended and autumn began, where girls still wore their cute little shorts and miniskirts, but topped them off with form fitting sweaters to even it all out. Spike had a thing for the sweater-miniskirt combo.

“Well it’s lunch time, so I’m guessing I’ll be somewhere lunch-oriented,” she replied, stuffing her books into her locker. “You coming with?” she invited, looking at him with those eyes. “We’re seniors now so the gang is going to journey beyond school grounds.”

Spike snorted. “That’s a bit too much excitement for me. I think I’ll pass.”

She shut the locker door and shrugged. “Suit yourself. Although you could stand to put on a few pounds.” She pinched his arm to emphasize her point.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, offended and grabbing the spot where she’d pinched him. “I happen to be sinewy. Ladies can’t seem to get enough of this body.”

She raised her eyebrows and nodded in a way that said she didn’t believe him. “I’m going to meet the guys outside. If you change your mind, then that’s too bad because the invitation’s closed.”

He smirked at her retreating figure. She really knew how to make a guy feel wanted. It was just another thing he found sexy about ol’ unfuckable and somewhat unlikeable Buffy Summers.

He went outside to take a smoke.

--

“What are you doing Angel!” Buffy exclaimed as he pulled her into an empty classroom. He shut the door and peered through the glass to make sure nobody had seen them.

“What’s going on Angel?” she demanded again when he didn’t answer.

“Where’s Spike?” he asked, ignoring her question. He was scaring her with how jumpy he was acting. Angel was supposed to be the level-headed counterpart in their relationship. Friendship. Whatever.

“I don’t know,” she told him. “He was out by the lockers a few minutes ago. Mind telling me what this is about?

Angel sighed like he was about to reveal a bombshell. “Spike’s evil.”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, I know right? It’s the same thing I’d been trying to tell Willow. I mean, his irritating qualities are just bordering on evil. But then we made this truce last night, and he sat next to me in class, and yeah, it was still pretty irritating but, to tell you the truth, tolerable if only—”

“Buffy!” Angel interrupted, exasperated. “He’s really evil. Like Hellmouth evil.” And the intensity in his eyes—the one he got when he was really serious; the one she’d imagined he’d be wearing when he finally professed his love for her—forced her to pay attention.

“How do you know?” Her eyebrows furrowed as she turned on her no-nonsense Slayer switch.

“I had a vision,” he told her. Her eyes softened and she reached out to brush a finger across his temple. Although he rarely talked about it, she knew how painful those visions were for him.

He flinched away from her touch.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled. He hated when she did that. Hated when she looked at him with those pity-filled green eyes. “In the vision, Spike was standing outside of a burning house. Somewhere close, there were dead bodies all over a carpet. Blood everywhere.” He closed his eyes and tried to remember the disjointed details. “There was a fight. Hooded figures, a man with glasses, and a sword with intricate carvings. Spike’s bloody hands. His bloody hands and utter pleasure at the death caused by him. I can still feel that bliss.” Buffy breath caught in disbelief.

“And there was Spike. Standing outside the burning house with a cigarette in his mouth and an unreadable face.”

“Are you sure it was Spike?” Buffy asked after a moment.

“Yes,” he answered. Buffy couldn’t explain why she felt her heart drop. She should have expected this. New people don’t just stride onto the Hellmouth everyday being all normal.

After a short silence, Angel remembered something else. “There was a sphere. A glass sphere. It was glowing. Burning red. It meant something.” The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

Buffy nodded. “I’ll round up Giles and the gang after school. If Spike’s evil, then we have to take him out.”

--

After doing some reconnaissance, Spike found an empty room in the school’s basement. It was small, dirty, and looked like it hadn’t been used in years. But it had a television set and that was damn cool.

He watched Passions during lunch-time, fell asleep, and missed his last two classes. ‘Wonder how bad Aunt Jen is going to kill me when I get home,’ he thought idly upon waking. He remembered he was supposed to meet with the librarian after school, and headed upstairs. His stomach growled as he made his way through the almost empty hallways. He probably should have taken Summers up on her offer to have lunch. He’d pick up some food on his way home, he decided as he opened the double doors to the library. Willow, Xander, Buffy, and some guy with a tweed jacket and glasses sat at a round table in the middle of the library, apparently in the middle of some sort of conversation.

“I’m not sure we can be friends if you guys spend your free time in the library,” Spike said as a greeting.

They didn’t laugh.

“Tough crowd,” he mumbled to himself. “Did I miss something?”

“Who might you be?” asked the tweed-guy.

“That’s Spike,” Xander told him, sharing a look with the older man that Spike didn’t care to decipher.

“Oh, Spike,” tweed-guy recognized.

“Yes, Spike,” the owner of the name echoed slowly. “Although, faculty, as I assume you are, may know me as William Calendar. I’m looking for a Mr. Giles. I have an appointment with him to pick up some books and useless information.” He grabbed a note from his back pocket and waved it in the air.

“Ah, yes,” said the tweed-guy. “I’m Mr. Giles.” He looked at the other three teenagers in the room. “Go along now. I’ll contact you all if I learn anymore information on the… ah, book you’ve all been wishing to check out.”

Buffy glanced at Spike then leaned in towards Giles. “Are you sure?” she whispered. “He is capable of eating you.”

“I can do a repelling spell,” Willow offered.

“That won’t be necessary,” he assured, watching the young bleached man finger a few books distractedly.

“We’ll be right outside the door,” said Xander. “Just scream if he tries anything funny.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” Giles replied, although he didn’t plan on doing any screaming.

The three brushed by Spike without so much as a goodbye. Confused, the young teen watched them leave. “See you lot later,” he called after them, not expecting a response. He looked over at Giles. “These Sunnydale folk confuse the hell out of me. One minute they’re hot, the next minute they’re cold. Kind of reminds me of the girls back home.”

Giles didn’t look amused.

“I take it your not one for British humor.”

Giles grabbed a list of book titles from the table and gave it to Spike. “When you’re done gathering these, come and find me so I can give you that ‘useless’ information.” With that, the older man walked away and headed into his office.

Spike sighed. And just when he thought he was starting to like this place.

--

Spike and Buffy were once again so close to starting an actual friendship. Darn.

Ack! I’m sorry for the long wait. On a really really good note, I have a whole bunch of other chapters written! Thank you so much to all who reviewed last time! They were all so thoughtful and thought-out. You guys continue to be awesome and you give me brilliant ideas for stuff I can write into the plot. In the meantime, click that cool little button at the bottom that says ‘Review’ and give me your opinions!





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