The air was uncharacteristically cool for a spring California
afternoon. The day had dawned with the promise of summer’s warmth, the sun bright in the sky, before winters grip tightened and re-exerted its will upon the small town. It was this surprise attack that had Buffy Summers walking across campus in little more than a tank top and skirt.
“Damn weatherman. Can’t get anything right can he. Knew I should’ve worn pants.” Buffy raged as the cold wind picked up, tugging the already short hem of her skirt even higher on her tan legs. Buffy pulled the material down yet again, trying to juggle her handful of books and her bag at the same time. So preoccupied with her task she never noticed the long jean clad legs that stretched across her path.
Book flew everywhere as the ground flew up to meet Buffy, knocking the wind out of her. She lay dazed on the cool grass, her body aching in several places.
“Bloody hell!” The sound of a British accent pulled Buffy from her stupor. She twisted on the ground to meet the piercing blue eyes of the legs owner. Or she would’ve met his gaze if he was looking at her face. Her face turned red as she pulled the soft material of her skirt back over the exposed expanse of her thighs. The action pulled the man’s gaze from her legs and back to more proper places. Buffy sat on the ground, still tugging at her skirt, and laughed.
“What’s so funny, pet?” William Cresswell stared down at the blonde vision beside him, a small smile tugging at his lips. Buffy continued to laugh, shaking her head when she was unable to speak. Her laughter died to a few giggles as she gathered up her scattered things. William rushed to help and she couldn’t help but stare at the man as he gathered the stray papers that were threatening to fly away.
He was around 5’10”, Buffy guessed, with shockingly bleached blonde hair and a sharp, angular face. He was dressed in a red button down shirt and black jeans, with a long black leather duster draped over his tight muscular form.
William looked up from his task to see her watching him intently. He flashed her his patented killer smirk, raking his own gaze over her scantly clad body. Her long blonde hair floated around her face like a soft gossamer cloud. The thin material of her baby blue tank top clung to her soft curves. Her fall had revealed the smooth golden skin of her legs all the way to her white cotton undies. The cool breeze brushed against the duo again, causing Buffy’s skirt to flutter. She blushed brighter and reached for the papers in his hands.
“Thank you. I’m Buffy Summers.” She held out her hand once she tucked the papers safely away.
“Spike.” The Brit replied, wrapping his strong fingers around her small hand, giving it a light squeeze.
“Spike?” Buffy asked with a laugh. “Were your parents on something when you were born?”
“It’s a nickname, pet.” Spike couldn’t help but chuckle at the girl. Buffy smiled and pulled her hand from his grasp.
“I kinda figured.” Buffy replied, stuffing the last of the papers in her binder and throwing her bag over her shoulder. She shivered as the cool strap hit her
bare skin.
“So where you off to there, pet?”
“First day of classes you know.” Buffy said as she shifted the heavy books in her arms. “Which I am going to be late for so I should go.”
“What class you got?” Spike asked, unwilling to let the girl leave.
“Uh, some English poetry thing. Willow, that’s my best friend, signed me up for it.” Buffy shifted the books again and shivered.
“Well what do you know, that’s were I’m heading off to myself. Why don’t I take those,” Spike deftly removed Buffy’s books from her arms and reached for his own bag. “But you are in luck, I happen to know that that particular professor is going to be late and the TA won’t be bothered if you are.” Buffy gave Spike a curious look and followed after him.
**~~**
They arrived at the class room with seconds to spare before the official start of class. Spike held open the door and nodded for Buffy to precede him into the room. Buffy moved to take her books from his grasp but Spike was already half way down the aisle, heading for the front of the room.
Spike tossed a playful smirk to the blonde still standing at the door to the auditorium. All eyes had turned to the duo as they entered, the voices dropping to a whisper. Spike placed her books on a chair in the front row of the class before turning to the large oak desk in the front of the room and hoping up to sit upon it.
Buffy clasped her bag to her chest and made her way down the steps to her books. She noticed Willow out of the corner of her eye sitting mid way through the rows of seats, a questioning look upon her face. Buffy gave her a helpless look in return and quickly made her way to the front.
Buffy grabbed her books from the seat and pulled up the movable desktop beforesliding into her seat. She looked up to see Spike leap to his feet and turn to sort through some papers on it.
“Ok, class.” Spike called out, turning to face the crowd, leafing through the papers in his hand. “Welcome to Poetry 301. My name is William Cresswell but you can call me Spike.” He flashed a killer smile at the group, a collective sigh of appreciation going through the female portion of the class. “I will be your TA for the semester. Professor Lifees is running a little behind so we will get started without her.” Spike hopped back up on the desk and pulled out a pen. “Ok, role call. Abrams, Parker. . .”
All Buffy could do was stare at the man in front of her as he ran through the names. His bleached hair glowed softly in the florescent lighting of the room, giving him the look of a fallen angel in his dark cloths.
‘Angel!’ Buffy mentally slapped herself as she belatedly remembered her
boyfriend. ‘Here I am ogling the TA when I already have a great guy.’ Liam
O’Conner, or Angel as he was known to his friends, was a fourth year criminal
psychology major. Buffy remembered walking into her second year psych class and
finding herself seated by the most gorgeous male she had ever seen. He towered
over her slight form, standing well over 6 feet tall, with dark hair and darker
eyes. She lost her heart when he spoke, his deep Irish brogue sending chills
through her body. Angel had asked her out for coffee after class and they had
been inseparable ever since, and that was almost a six months ago.
“’mers, Elizabeth.” Buffy was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of her
name. She found Spike watching her, a lazy grin on his lips. She smiled back
weakly and lowered her gaze again, studiously studying the cover of her books.
“Alright class.” Spike said with a clap of his hand when he came to the end of
the list. “Let’s get started.” Just then the back door opened with a resounding
bang, causing the entire class to jump. A beautiful blonde woman breezed into
the room and made her way down the aisle.
“So nice of you to show up, Darla.” Spike smirked, setting his book back on the
desk.
“That’s Professor Lifiees to you, William, and get off my desk.” Spike chuckled
and jumped from his perch.
“All yours, pet.” He waved at the desk with a flourish. Spike strolled
leisurely to the front row and took a seat beside Buffy. The scent of leather
and tobacco surrounded her, causing her breath to hitch in her throat.
“Ok, open your books to page 32 and we can get started.” The young Professor
called out, reaching for her own book.
“Mind sharing your book, luv?” Spike’s voice rumbled over the sounds of pages
been flipped. Buffy gave him a weak smile and shifted her book so that they
could share. Spike moved closer, the soft leather of his coat brushing the bare
skin of her arm causing Buffy to shiver.
“Cold, pet?” Spike smirked. Buffy shook her head and tried to concentrate on
the teachers words.