*~*A Touch of Jealousy*~* By Echidna
Author's Note: Thanks to Ali for betaing this fic and for supporting it! ;)
Chapter 1:
“Honey! I think Willow is here!” Mrs. Summers called out from the kitchen.
“I’m on it!” Buffy bellowed back as she hopped down the stairs taking two steps at a time. “Hey, Wills!” She greeted the redhead with a huge grin as she opened the door.
“Hey! Xander, Cordy and Oz are waiting in the van. Ready for some Bronzing?”
“Sure!” The blond grinned wildly. She loved Saturday night outings. “Just let me get my coat.”
She walked briskly into the living room and picked up her leather coat that was draped over the coach.
“Angel’s meeting us at the Bronze. Let’s g-“ Buffy was cut off as the phone rang. “Hello?” She started as she picked up the receiver. “Angel, we were just talking about… What? What’s the matter? You’ve got the flu?” she paused and Willow watched as the smile on her face quickly crumbled. “Oh… Ok, then. Sure, don’t worry, just stay at home and… drink lots of fluids. No, I’ll stay home too; don’t really feel like going out if you can’t. Don’t worry, ok? Night.” With a disappointed sigh she put down the receiver.
“He’s not coming?” Willow dared to ask.
“No. Apparently he’s got the flu.” The blond answered disheartened.
“Really? He looked fine yesterday at football practice.” Willow noted.
“Must have gotten it from the guys in the locker room or something. You know, sweating and all, then cold showers and such.” Buffy tried to justify.
“Yeah… must be it.” The redhead replied unconvinced.
“Well, I’m staying then, but you guys go.” The blond said, head bowed and her lower lip jutting out for a pout.
“No way! You’re coming with.”
“Willow, I really don’t feel lik-“
“I don’t care, you need to have some fun. You know, relax through major, all night partying.” Willow stopped when she saw Buffy’s eyebrow cock up. “O-Ok, maybe not all night, seeing as we are seniors in high-school and all but… you know, partying till curfew time.” As she finished her enthusiastic speech, the redhead set her lips in a straight line to emphasize her resolve.
“Willow, I-“
“I won’t take no for an answer.”
Buffy took a deep breath and sighed loudly before speaking:
“Ok, fine. I’ll go.”
~~~~
A cloud of thick smoke engulfed them as the five teenagers walked into the club.
“Ah! The ever familiar and intoxicating air of the Bronze is entering my lungs. I can die a happy man now.” Xander sighed as he sat around the nearest available table.
“I hate this place.” Cordy protested as she practically coughed her lungs out.
“Oh, come on honey. It’s the Bronze. It’s where we-“
“One more word out of you and you’re a dead man Xander Harris.” The brunette threatened.
“Okay.” A small hissing sound came from Xander’s lips as he inhaled sharply, giving his girlfriend his best ‘you’re my queen and I shall do as you command’ look.
”Shutting up now and heading toward the bar to get some much needed refreshments. Orders.”
“Soda.”
“Soda.”
“Soda.”
“Coke.” Willow piped up with a huge grin plastered on her face.
“Three sodas and a coke coming up.”
“Oh, oh… Let’s dance.” The redhead said giddily as she took Oz’s hand and practically dragged him to the dance floor.
“Ok, I think for my best friend’s sake and for all of us present I’ll make that four sodas. No more caffeine for her!” Xander quipped walking away, leaving Cordy and Buffy behind.
An awkward silence filtered between the duo. The truth was that they didn’t really know each other all that well. They had belonged to completely different groups all through junior high. Cordy always belonged with the high and mighty *in* crowd while Buffy mingled with all the rest – mere mortals. It had been that way ever since she could remember, but it had changed during the last summer. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Xander and Cordy had announced that they were an item and ever since then they had been hanging out together. Buffy had come to realise that beneath her popular bitch/queen act, the brunette was actually someone worth knowing. Cordy seemed to have vague, fleeting episodes of humanity in her and that was always a plus. But even so, they had never really gotten a chance to ever have a normal conversation.
So there they were, sitting together, staring into the crowd, trying hard to ignore the screaming silence between them.
“So…” Cordy finally ventured. “Angel didn’t come?”
“No, he’s home, sick. He’s got the flue.” Buffy answered quickly.
“Really? I just saw him earlier today, he seemed fine to me.” Cordelia started.
“Maybe it wasn’t him.” Buffy offered.
“Oh, I go to cheerleading practice every week, I’m pretty sure I can identify the starting quarterback of our school when I see him.” Cordy countered.
Buffy was about to answer when Oz and Willow returned. A strange look was plastered on the redhead’s face. She seemed even paler than usual.
“Willow? Are you ok? What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing. Maybe we should all just go home.” Willow replied.
“Go home?” Xander’s voice hovered over them as he set the bottles on the table. “We just got here.”
“But, we should just go. I-I’m tired and… I need to go.” Willow’s mind searched frantically for an excuse.
“You’re tired, you were just jumping your ass off on the dance floor, giggling like a madman and suddenly you’re tired and you wanna go home?” Buffy asked.
“Exactly.”
“Willow, what’s wrong?” Buffy could easily read the fear and nervousness in her best friend’s eyes.
“Nothing, lets just go.” Willow insisted as she glanced out of the corner of her eyes.
“Wills, what-“ Buffy stopped in mid sentence as she followed Willow’s gaze. Everyone in the table did the same.
“Hey, isn’t that Angel? What’s he doing with that skinny ho? I thought you two were-“
“Cordy, honey…” Xander interrupted his girlfriend. “Shut up.”
“Angel?” Buffy felt as if the ground had been ripped from under her feet.
She didn’t want to believe her eyes. Angel, her Angel, the Angel that was supposed to be home, in bed, sick, was actually out on the dance floor, arms tightly wrapped around a tall, skinny woman, whose black hair cascaded down her back as she ground her hips against HER boyfriend.
“What…” She couldn’t speak as the lump in her throat grew to the point she thought she couldn’t breathe anymore.
“Buffy, I-I’m sorry… I…” Willow stuttered clumsily as she saw the pain plastered over her best friend’s face.
Chapter 2:
The petite blond watched as the skanky girl nibbled at Angel’s neck while he closed his eyes in a clear sign of pleasure. Slowly, Buffy recognized her; it was the odd vapid ho that hung out with that idiot, Spike and the Goth crowd in school – Dru. As the seconds melted away, the pain gave way to anger and rage.
In a flash, Buffy was up and crossing the dance floor. With all the strength she could muster she gripped Dru by her scrawny shoulder and threw her across the floor.
“What? Buffy? Wha-what are you doing here?” Angel stuttered like an idiot.
“That’s my line!” Buffy growled. “You were supposed to be sick, remember? In bed, with a fever. Not here, groping this trashy ho while she’s sucking on your neck.”
“Hey!” Dru objected. Before she could say anything else, Buffy’s small hands were on her throat.
The two fell to the ground in a violent catfight.
“Buffy!” Willow called out. “Xander, do something?”
“What…? Huh?” The young man snapped out of his daze as his brain overrode the ‘Girl fight, cool.’ sequence of his programming and entered the ‘Buffy’s in a fight, gotta help’ mode.
Grabbing Buffy by her waist, Xander pulled her off a very bashed Dru who could barely sit up.
“Let go of me!” Buffy yelled off the top of her lungs as she wildly kicked the air and her nails dug into Xander’s hand. “I’m gonna kill you!” She continued to bellow.
“Calm down Buffy, this isn’t the way!” Xander tried to explain, but the petite blonde would have none of it.
The rage cursed through her veins, her eyes flashed brightly with fury.
“You’re insane!” Dru screamed as she finally managed to stand up with Angel’s help.
“Get your hands away from-“
“From who? From him?” Dru asked, the arrogance building up in her sharp English accent as she pointed toward the tall quarterback. “He hasn’t been yours for a long time now, sweetie. Do you really think that he would be satisfied with a puny little thing like you. Please. He’s been coming to me, to *my* bed, for months now. Guess you were… how did you put it, Angel? Hum… Frigid!” She hissed. “Did you really think that he’d stay with you? The star quarterback with some insignificant loser. Ha! I had to bite my lip every time I walked by you in school, just so I wouldn’t start laughing at just how incredibly pathetic you are.”
Buffy felt as if the air had just been sucked out of the room and she couldn’t breathe. She opened and closed her mouth repeatedly as she tried to speak, but she couldn’t. All eyes were on her; she could hear the snickering and whispering in the background growing.
“Angel…” she finally managed to whisper.
He simply looked at the floor, never giving her a glance.
“I… I… I have to go.” Buffy breathed as she ran out of the club, tear threading down her cheeks.
****
The moment she passed the threshold of the large door she felt the burden of a hundred eyes on her. She felt like she was in one of those cheesy teen movies, walking in slow motion through the halls while everyone turned to gawk at her, a look of pity plastered on all those faces. She felt her stomach turn and her breakfast quickly crawling its way up her oesophagus.
She slammed her hand against her mouth and made a run for the girl’s bathroom. Once there, she entered the nearest available stall and threw herself into it. Dropping limply next to the toilet, she vomited.
“Uh… Gross!” A high pitch voice was heard from the next stall as the fairly recognizable sound of someone regurgitating filled the room.
Buffy breathed heavily, her head still hovering over the toilet as she waited for the next wave of nausea to take over. She stayed there for a few minutes, waiting for everyone to clear out of the restroom. The ringing of the bell sounded and she imagined having to face all those people again.
By now, the few students that hadn’t been at the Bronze to witness her total humiliation had already heard of all the sordid details.
“God… I hate my life.” She exhaled noisily as she banged her head against the door before standing up.
Slowly, she turned the faucet and let the water run for a while before splashing her face with the crystal liquid. She looked up at the mirror to see her pathetic, soaked expression staring back at her. She shook her head and closed her eyes for a second, searching for the courage to leave that bathroom.
“Let the slaughter begin.” She mumbled pushing the door open and walking down the hall.
“Why if it isn’t Miss goody two shoes?”
She felt the pain in her belly increase drastically at the sound of the familiar London accent. Buffy stooped dead in her tracks, but never turned to face him, instead she waited for the black clad figure to circle her and stand in front of her.
“Late for class are we? Now, what would good old mummy think of that, Betty?” The bleached teen mocked with fake concern in his voice.
“It’s Buffy! What do you want, bleach-boy?” she hissed at him.
“Me? Nothing. Just being polite.” He answered with a cocky grin.
“You? Polite? Ha!” she laughed forcibly as she restarted walking.
He followed her.
“So, what are you doing out of class?”
She stopped and turned to face him with a frown.
‘He doesn’t know?’ was the mantra in her mind as the cocky Englishman shoved his marble white hands into the pockets of his trademark black duster.
“Why don’t you ask your skanky excuse for a girlfriend?” She quipped.
“Hey! Don’t ever call Dru that!” Anger flashed in his eyes.
“Why? That’s what you call people who go around stealing other people’s boyfriends.” She held her chin up as she looked into his eyes.
“What are you talking about, you bint?” He hissed back.
“I’m talking about your *girlfriend* and my *boyfriend* having a major make out session in front of everyone at the Bronze on Saturday.” She talked quickly as the images of that evening flashed before her eyes and served to fuel her anger.
Suddenly, his hands were on her arms and she felt her back slam against the lockers. The bleached teen glared at her, teeth clenched tightly, highlighting his sharp cheekbones.
“You better take that back.” He hissed angrily.
She swallowed hard as she tried to calm her racing heartbeat.
“It’s true.” She never lost face, the words coming out washed in despise and rage.
“You’re lying!” he accused her.
“Apparently, you didn’t know your *sweet* girlfriend has been boning *my* boyfriend.” She answered back.
He closed his eyes for a second as he tried to get his nerves under control and stop himself from beating this girl into a pulp.
“You don’t believe me? Go ask your vampire wannabe of a girlfriend.” She gathered her courage, grabbed his hands and forced him to let go of her arm. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got classes to go to.”
And with that she whirled around and quickly made her way to her next class.
Chapter 3:
“We need to talk.” His voice was sharp and low as he grabbed Dru by her arm and dragged her to the nearest corner.
“Spike! What-“
“Is it true?” He interrupted her. “Please, tell me it isn’t true.”
“What isn’t true, Spike?” She asked with a soft voice as she ran her hand across his cheek.
He closed his eyes for a split second before gripping her hand and pulling it away.
“Answer me!” he ordered.
She took a deep breath and sighed. Making an irritated face she answered simply:
“Yes.”
“What?!” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“I’ve been with Angel. I was going to tell you-“
“When? When everyone in school already knew about it and were laughing behind my back?” He growled.
“I knew you wouldn’t understand.” She sighed annoyed.
“Bloody right, I don’t! Dru? You’re *my* girl.” He said desperately.
“Not anymore.” She answered plainly.
“But-“
“It’s over Spike, I’m with Angel now. I’m sorry.”
She walked away, leaving him standing there.
~+~
Buffy dragged her feet as she walked.
“They’re all looking at me.” She grumbled.
“No, they’re not.” Willow lied.
“Willow, I’m not blind or deaf.” The blonde rolled her eyes and sighed as she plopped her tired body on the chair setting her tray on the table.
“It’ll all blow over in a couple of weeks, when they get another thing to gossip about.” Oz offered, looking at his plate and trying to identify which of the mounds were the mashed potatoes and which were the meatloaf. He had the feeling that by the end of high school all they would have would be a large puddle of unrecognisable organic matter for lunch.
“I really hope- Oh, God no!” She breathed as she saw Angel walking into the cafeteria, his arms draped across Dru’s skinny form.
“Buffy, just calm down.”
“God, I swear, by the end of the year I’m gonna break something off of him.” The blonde hissed between clenched teeth as she furiously pounded her fork into her food.
“Um… Buffy?” Oz called with his usual monotonic voice. “I’m pretty sure they don’t serve live animals in American high schools for lunch. It’s probably against a whole bunch of laws so, no need to kill it.”
“What?!” Buffy looked at her plate and realised that she had just spread the food all over the table. “Um... sorry. I think I’ve lost my ap-”
A loud banging sound was heard as the trio turned, just in time to see Angel crash into Jonathan, sending them both spiralling over the freshly waxed floor. A very pissed Spike hovered over them.
“You stay away from Dru.” He growled.
Quickly, Angel stood on his feet and towered over the shorter boy.
“Or what?” the quarterback shot back.
Spike’s answer came in the form of a punch and soon someone was yelling off the top of their lungs:
“Fight!”
Masses of testosterone driven teens screamed and cheered enthusiastically, coming to circle the fighting pair as the two exchanged hard blows.
“What is going on here?” A loud booming voice was heard and everyone turned to see principal Snyder standing by the door.
The crowd quickly dispersed to reveal two bloodied up boys frozen in position.
“You two…” He started, the intense pleasure evident as he spoke. “Are getting detention for a week. Now, move it. In my office.”
The two boys still had time to exchange a dirty look as they untangled themselves and walked after the short, bald man.
~+~
“Poor Spike.” Willow sighed as she sat on the bench next to Xander.
“Poor Spike? What about me? Publicly humiliated at the Bronze, remember?” Buffy protested as she walked around in circles in front of her two best friends. “Oh, you too, but…Spike, well… you know, he’s been crazy about Dru ever since I can remember and to see his long time girlfriend going around smooching with Angel can’t be giving him any happy, fuzzy bunny feelings.” Willow tried to explain.
“Who cares about Spike and happy, fuzzy bunny feelings? He’s an idiot and he probably got what he deserved.” Buffy grumbled under her breath.
“As much as I love to despise that bleached foreign freak I have to agree with Willow on this one. Spike’s always been head over heels for Dru; he worships the ground she walks on. No, actually any ground in the near vicinity of that girl!” Xander corrected himself.
Buffy’s response was a heavy sigh paired with an annoyed roll of her green eyes.
“They’ve been together ever since Spike moved here, like two years ago, and you and Angel have only been dating since this summer, you can’t comp-“ Seeing the deadly look the petite blonde was shooting at him, Xander quickly added: “Ok, shutting up now for fear of seriously irreparable head trauma.”
Exhaling sharply, Buffy plopped on the bench, between Xander and Willow.
“God, I hate this school.” She grumbled.
“Buffy, you…” Willow trailed off as she saw a fairly battered Angel walk out into the patio.
Buffy and Xander glanced in the direction of the redhead’s frozen gaze to see Dru running hysterically towards the tall quarterback, wet handkerchief in her hand, ready to nurse Angel’s bleeding lip.
“Kill, kill, kill, kill…” Buffy whispered the demonic mantra, which her friends easily picked up.
The entire patio came to a screeching halt as they saw the infamous bleached Brit walk out a few moments after the quarterback. Everyone froze to see what would happen. Those who expected a big scene or another bloody fist fight were clearly disappointed as Spike simply glance at the couple and walked away with a bowed head as he dug nervously into the pockets of his duster, clearly in need of an extra dose of nicotine.
“You can seriously tell me you don’t feel sorry for the poor guy?” Willow asked incredulous.
“Hum… No?” Was Buffy’s sarcastic answer. “I’m too occupied with hating Angel and that skanky ho to feel any sort of empathy for anyone, specially not that bleached idiot.”
“Why do you hate him so much?” the redhead questioned. She had never quite understood it.
“Ok, need I remind you the first time I met him was when he was pulling my pony tail and screaming off the top of his lungs ‘Fake blond ahead, danger, danger’ ?”
Willow’s eyebrows came together in a painful frown as she remembered the petite blonde’s humiliation.
“Plus he’s so full of himself, and cocky and annoying as hell with that ridiculous accent and stupid bleached head. And what’s with those absurd Billy Idol wannabe outfits? Plus those bizarre combat boots and old as hell duster and… stupid accent. He’s and idiot!” she finished her clearly negative description.
“You said ‘stupid accent’ twice.” Xander noted with a grin, but it soon crumbled as Buffy narrowed her eyes at him.
“I just don’t like him that’s all. He’s made my high school life a living hell since he first came here two years ago.” Buffy stated as the bell rang and the trio stood up and walked to their classes.
Chapter 4:
The days passed and eventually the looks thrown in Buffy’s direction lessened. She walked briskly through the halls, clutching her books against her chest as she looked at her watch. She sighed in relief when she reached her destination and stood quietly peeping through the hole between the large stands. She still caught the last 5 minutes of football practice, cursing under her breath the entire time as she watched the star quarterback run through the field.
“Buffy, there you are!” Willow sighed in relief.
The petite blond jumped up hitting her head on the stand above her.
“Ouch! Willow, what’re you doing here?” Buffy grumbled as she scratched the sore spot on her skull.
“Watching you torture yourself into insanity.” Willow stated tilting her head towards the field.
“I-I wasn’t… I…” She tried to explain but it was no use, she got caught.
“You’ve been following Angel around for weeks now, you have to move on.” The redhead pleaded.
“I’ll move on when I see him on his knees begging me for forgiveness.” Buffy set her mouth in a straight line to show her resolve.
“You still want him back, don’t you?” Willow asked.
“What? No!” The blonde teen answered truthfully. “I just want to seen him suffer and grovel at my feet so I can tell him ‘You’ve missed your chance.’” An evil revengeful glow sparkled in her eyes as she spoke, clearly envisioning her moment of triumph.
“Buffy…” Willow tried to reason with her, but Buffy started walking away.
“Don’t even try to talk me out of this one. I’ll find a way to get him, and until I do I’ll just follow him!”
****
She walked quietly several feet behind him so she would remain unnoticed. She already knew where he was going. It was Friday night, he was obviously going to pick her up. Bastard!
As the dimly lit house came into view, Buffy left the sidewalk and hid behind the tall bushes. She heard the unnatural rustle of leafs and looked up at the nearest tree.
“Oh, God! What a freak!” She whispered to herself at the sight of a bleached teen moving between branches, straining to see what was going on on the front porch of the house.
She picked up a long stem and reached up to poke the Brit on the ass. Startled, Spike lost his balance and tumbled down the tree, falling on his ass with a thud.
“What was that?” They heard Angel ask.
“Probably just the cat.” A clearly feminine voice answered. It was Dru.
Spike looked up to see Buffy cockily towering over him.
“You’re pa-“
A flash of anger coursed through him and in a blink of an eye he was up, his hand covering her mouth his body crushing hers against the tree he had just fallen off of.
They glared silently at one another till Spike felt a sharp pain in the palm of his hand and instinctively pulled his hand away from her mouth.
“Ouch!” He hissed as he checked his hand for any sign of injury. Sure enough he found a small, but deep and flaming red bite mark. “You bit me!”
“You’re pathetic, you know that?” She hissed at him. “Skulking in the dark and spying on your ex.
“I’m pathetic? You mean to tell me you’re not here because you’ve been following the big poofter back there?” Spike countered tilting his head towards the house.
“I-I…”
“You think I don’t know you’ve been walking around the school following him everywhere?” He asked with a cocky grin.
“Well at least I don’t go around climbing trees and making poor little lost puppy eyes every time I see my ex.” Buffy hissed triumphantly.
“I’m love’s bitch and I’m man enough to admit it.” He confessed proudly raising his chin.
Buffy had no quick comeback for that one, so she settled for a pathetic:
“Crazed stalker.”
“I love Dru, I’ve always loved her, ever since I can remember. I’m not gonna lose her to some Yankee ponce.” He stated .
“Oh, now that’s just sad.” The blonde looked at him with pity.
“Like you’re not dying to have you’re big, greased poof back. All he’d have to do is ask and you’d be parting your knees for him.” He growled. But he didn’t have much time to gloat at his not so witty comment as he felt an excruciating pain take over his entire body as her knee connected with his groin.
“Pig!” She snorted, seeing him fall limply to the ground, clutching his privates as he repressed a much-needed howl.
She turned on her heels and walked away.
****
Willow hugged her books against her chest as she walked side by side with Buffy and Oz. She took in a deep breath, exhaling sharply as she entered the familiar building.
“Ah… Monday! Don’t you just love it?” She asked with a huge satisfied grin on her face.
Under heavy eyelids, the blonde threw a glance in her best friend’s direction before shaking her head and sighed audibly.
“You’re in serious need of psychiatric treatment, you know that, right?”
“What? I like school, so?” The redhead shrugged.
“My point exactly. Liking school is one of the clear signs of a very obscure neurological dysfunction that destroys the part of your brain that enables you to distinguish between fun and hard, bad work.” The blonde theorized.
Willow’s right eyebrow cocked up and Buffy continued with a serious tone:
“It’s true. There’s a part of any teen’s brain where we have defined the following logical equation: fun equals good, school equals bad, bad and good are opposites therefore school is the opposite of fun. Hence,” Buffy shook her head emphatically “no happy faces and deep content sighs on Monday mornings, especially at nine am. It’s considered highly pathological otherwise.”
Willow’s brow furrowed further and she finally asked:
“Who are you and what have you done with Buffy?”
The blonde sighed heavily and replied:
“I couldn’t sleep last night. Again! So I stayed up late watching the Discovery channel. Big show on Psychology and Logics, hence the whole theory. Don’t worry, it’ll probably go away in- Spike!” Buffy stopped her explanations as a bleached teen stood in her way and blocked her path.
“Need to talk to you, Betty!” He said with a dry voice, throwing a glance towards Willow and Oz.
“It’s Buffy.” She hissed, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “And I can’t now, I have classes.” She tried to move around him, but he took a step and once again was towering over her.
“It won’t take long.” He grumbled.
It was clear he didn’t want to be there. He scanned the hall and saw the several frowns that surrounded them. It was easy to understand why. Everyone at that school knew the seething hatred that the blonde pair nurtured for one another. Obviously, they expected the usual shouting, swearing and occasional fists flying that usually developed within five minutes of the two being within five feet of each other. This time it wasn’t happening. Why? All the students wondered as they watched Buffy sigh and signal Willow and Oz to go on without her.
“What do you want, bleached-wonder?”
“Talk to you.” He explained.
“I’m here. Talk.”
“Not here.” He frowned, throwing evil glances at all the students that stared at them, before grabbing Buffy by her arm and dragging her out of there.
Chapter 5:
“Ouch! That hurts!” She protested, trying to pull her arm out of his grip but failing. “Let go!” she practically screamed as they rounded a corner and reached the back of the school.
He came to a halt and let go of her arm.
“That hurt, you troglodyte.” She grumbled rubbing her sore arm. She continued a string of curses as she realised that the next day she would have finger-shaper bruises on her bronze skin from his not too delicate handling. “Stupid, idiot, foreign, brainless oaf.”
“Are we done with the cursing, luv?” He asked annoyed.
“No! You’re also a Neanderthal and stop calling me luv.” She protested again. “What do you want?”
“Dru back.” He answered simply.
She paused for a second before speaking.
“Ok, I realise you’re a bit slow and all but…” She began to speak slowly, exaggeration in the articulation of the words: “I. Am. *Not*. Dru.” She tilted her head towards him, as if trying to ascertain if he had understood her.
“Oh, Dru you’re *definitely not*.” He said with a sarcastic tone, which made the petite blonde flinch.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Let’s not go down that road.” He quickly tried to change the subject. If he wanted Buffy’s help, offending her was definitely not the way to get it. “I think we can help each other. You want your big ponce back, I want Dru, we should join forces.” He concluded.
“Two things: I would never, ever join *anything*with you and I don’t want Angel back. I just want him to contract a very painful venereal disease that involves the decaying and falling off of his private parts.” She finished her statement with a huge plastic grin.
Spike couldn’t help but wince at the description. Shaking himself out of that bad place in his mind he spoke:
“You don’t want Angel? You’ve been following him everywhere since you broke up.” The bleached teen pointed out the obvious.
“Just until I find the best way to inflict maximum pain to that cheating bastard.” She explained harshly.
Spike paused for second, pondering the new development. Annoyed, Buffy sighed and began to walk away.
“How about having him head over heels for you again?” He offered.
She cocked an eyebrow, coming to a halt:
“I’m listening.”
“I can help you get him back. Even if you show him you don’t want him, he’ll be grovelling at your feet.” He started to explain.
“Grovelling is good.” She said simply as she waited to hear the rest of the plan.
“And at the same time I can get Dru back.”
“So what do I have to do?” She enquired.
“Pretendtobemygirlfriend.” He said in one breath.
“What?!” she yelped. “Has all that bleach finally sunk into your brain and caused irreparable damage?” She questioned incredulous.
“The moment the 2 of them see us together they’ll go nuts with jealousy. Dru still loves me I know it.” Spike quickly explained.
“What about Angel?” She cocked her head.
“He never could stand seeing me and Dru happy. That’s why he’s after her. If he sees me with you, he’ll want you.”
“You’ve hit your head recently, haven’t you?” She asked sincerely.
“No. I’m telling you it’ll work. Trust me. I know Angel.”
“Trust? You? Oh you’ve definitely lost it pal.” She laughed.
Growling, the bleached teen reached into his pockets and took out a pack of cigarettes, bringing one to his lips and lighting it.
“Hey, hey, hey! No smoking!” She grabbed the cigarette, which dangled from his mouth and dropped it to the floor twisting the sole of her shoe on it.
Spike gave her an evil look, and it was clear he was doing all he could to keep himself from ringing her pretty little neck.
There was a moment of silence. Buffy scanned the outlying football field recognizing the form of the quarterback. In the distance she saw a black clad figure clapping hysterically at each successful pass the teen performed. She felt her stomach twist in disgust. Without turning to look at the bleached boy behind her she asked:
“What do I do?”
“Hang out with me. People have to see us together, holding hands, hugging and such.” Spike explained.
“No, nooooo way it hell!” She shook her head emphatically waving her arms around in a clear sign of disagreement as she turned to face him. “I’m not touching you!”
“You don’t see me hopping around singing ‘oh, joy! Oh, joy!’ either, luv.”
“Ok, deal.” She agreed reluctantly. “But we hang out with *my* crowd.”
“What? No!” It was his turn to shake his head.
“I’m not going anywhere near your monochromatic, Goth pals. No way and that’s final. We do it my way or it’s off.” Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and set her lips in a straight line waiting for his answer.
Eventually, he gave up and shaking his head mumbled:
“Fine, we’ll do it you’re way.”
“Good. When do we start?”
“Hum… tomorrow?”
“Ok, tomorrow we’re officially a couple.”
“One more thing. No one can know about our little deal or it’s off.” He warned her.
“Sure. Otherwise it would defeat the whole purpose of it, now wouldn’t it?”
“Just making sure. No telling Red, or the whelp or anyone!”
“What? Willow’s not gonna tell anyone.”
“I don’t care. No one can know.”
“But…”
“No buts, blondie.”
“Fine!” She agreed looking at her watch. “Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!” she cursed. “I’m late!” looking up at him with a deadly gaze she added: “This is all your fault. I hate you!”
“Same here!” He shouted after her, watching her run to her next class.
****
She exhaled sharply as she entered the house, dragging her aching feet on the floor plopping down on the couch with closed eyes and sighing. Her heavy eyelids shot open when she heard a deep male laughter coming from the kitchen.
“Mom…” she whispered to herself, forcing her tired body to stand.
As she reached the threshold of the tiled room her jaw fell to the floor. There, around the isle, sat her mom and…
“Spike?” She asked incredulous.
The Brit muffled his laughter at the sight of the petite blond.
“What are you doing here?” Buffy inquired as she noticed the mug of hot chocolate set in front of Spike.
“You’re friend William came by to get your notes from English class.” Joyce explained standing and walking toward the counter, picking up a kettle. “More hot chocolate?”
“William?” Buffy mouthed the name and could barely refrain from laughing.
The blonde shot her a dirty look before answering her mom.
“No thanks, Mrs. Summers. I’ll just get those notes from Buffy and I’ll be on my way.”
He stood up as he spoke, walking towards Buffy and discreetly, wormed his long fingers around her arm, dragging her to the hall.
“William?” She repeated, this time she wasn’t able to suppress the chuckle.
“What?” He grumbled.
“Sorry, just forgot you were William. It’s just such a…” Buffy pondered her words. “… delicate name.”
Spike forced a plastic smile on his lips for a glimpse of a second before snarling:
“What’s wrong with William?”
“Nothing. Just forget it.” Buffy shook her head. “What do you want, bleach boy?”
“We have to talk about tomorrow.”
Buffy looked over his shoulder and noticed her mom straining to hear what they were saying. She tilted her head toward the stairs and made her way up, with Spike following her close behind.
Chapter 6:
“Speak.” She said entering her bedroom.
Spike remained silent for a moment, scanning her room. A cocky grin settled on his lips as he saw a stuffed pig on her bed.
“What?” she asked annoyed.
“Nothing.” He mumbled, shaking his head.
“So, what about tomorrow?” She sighed audibly.
“We have to figure out the details.”
“Such as?”
“What do we tell your buddies?” he offered.
“That a piano landed on my head and suddenly going out with you doesn’t seem as revolting as it should?” She quipped looking up at him with a boastful grin.
“You’re cracking me up, luv.” He grunted sarcastically.
Sighing heavily, she let herself fall on her bed.
“I don’t know what to tell them.” She mumbled as she stared up at the ceiling.
“Well, we have to come up with something convincing.”
She turned her head towards him and made a face.
“I don’t think this is such a good idea anymore.”
“Oh, come on, Betty! You can’t back out now. It’s just for a few of days. If I can stand it so can you. I mean, don’t you want to have the poof grovelling and drooling over you. Just imagine him on his knees begging for you to come back to him and you telling him to get a life in front of the whole school.” Desperation was clear in his voice.
Images matching the description the blonde had made flashed before her eyes and she felt the overwhelming rush of power and vengeance course through her veins. She exhaled sharply and sat up on the bed.
“Ok! I’ll do it.” She agreed, causing Spike to sigh in relief. “But first you are definitely going to have to memorise my name. It’s Buffy. Get it through that bleached head of yours. Bu-ffy. It’s not that hard.”
He nodded and sat down on the bed next to her.
“Now… about the guys. I’ll just tell them that… I changed my mind. I don’t know. I’ll just say that…” She looked up at the ceiling as she pondered. “I got it!” She piped up triumphantly. “I’ll say that I was being mugged and that you came in the nick of time and saved me. Brilliant!” She congratulated herself.
“And you think they’ll buy it?” He asked a bit suspicious of their plan.
“They’ll have to.” She shrugged. “Now, one thing’s important, we can’t just announce all of a sudden that we are… you know…” Her index finger danced between them , alternating between pointing at him and at herself.
“Snogging?” Spike offered.
“Yeah.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “It’ll have to take time. Be gradual. Otherwise no one’s gonna go for it. I mean, everyone at that school knows we hate each other’s guts.”
“But that way it’ll take forever.” Spike protested.
“I know Willow and Xander, they won’t go for it if it’s any other way.” She insisted.
“Fine.” Spike reluctantly agreed. “So what do we do tomorrow.”
“We take it slow. You’ll sit with us at lunch. Something like that. No touching, no nothing. Just friendly talking.”
“What do we talk about?”
“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out as we go along.”
****
Joyce Summers let out a deep sigh as she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. They were out of her room, finally. Thank God! She was really starting to feel very uncomfortable with her daughter being in a room alone with a teenage boy.
“So, did you get the notes?” She tried to act nonchalant about it.
“What?”
“The notes you needed from Buffy?”
“Oh, those! Yes, Mrs. Summers.” Spike answered promptly.
An awkward silence filtered between the three and Buffy was the one to break it:
“Well, you gotta go do that… thing. Don’t you?”
“Hum… Yeah! I do. Gotta go. I’m actually late.” He said quickly heading for the door. “Thanks for the hot chocolate, Mr. Summers and good evening.”
Buffy closed the door behind him and turned to jog up the stairs when she heard her mom clear her throat in the international Mom-daughter code for ‘We need to talk’. Sighing audibly, the teen came down the steps and entered the kitchen after her mother.
“Buffy, what was your idea taking that boy up to your room. I mean, he’s a nice boy and all, but you know what I’ve told you about boys in your room. It’s strictly forbidden, I don’t-“
“Mom, calm down. We weren’t doing anything. I promise.” Buffy guaranteed. “We were just talking.”
“It doesn’t matter, you can’t have boy in your room. You never know what might happen and…”
“Believe me, nothing was or will ever happen between me and Spike. I guarantee you. I’m *definitely* not his type.” Buffy tried to explain to her mother.
“What do you mean not his type?” Joyce enquired.
“Just trust me on this one.” Buffy spoke as she recalled the strange affection the bleached teen had for Dru. She had never really understood it. It just seemed psychotic, he followed her everywhere, was constantly concerned with her well being, papering her and doing everything she asked of him. It seemed like an obsession. “I’m definitely *not* his type.”
“Oh!” Her mother brought her hand to her lips as a realisation struck her. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was…” Joyce pondered her words carefully.
“He is mom.” Buffy admitted, as she thought her mom was referring to his being totally head over heel over another girl.
“Oh, in that case it’s ok.” Joyce agreed as she returned to her dishwashing.
“What’s ok?”
“Him being in your room. If he’s gay he’s like a… girlfriend.”
Buffy’s eyes widened.
“What? Mom, he’s not-“
She was cut short as the phone rang. Quickly she went to pick it up, making a mental note to talk to her mom and make sure she got things straightened out.
****
Willow mindlessly shovelled her food around in her plate, her eyes scanning the cafeteria. Suddenly, they widened as she saw a certain bleached teen heading their way and eventually sitting next to Buffy, dropping his tray next to hers.
“Hey!” he greeted.
Everyone at the cafeteria froze, including Xander; his fork dangling from his lips.
“Hey!” Oz calmly replied.
Buffy braced herself as she noticed the questioning looks Willow and Xander were shooting at her.
“Hello, Spike.” She piped up in a low voice; her eyes never diverting from her plate. It wasn’t a very pretty sight, but at least it kept her safe from the hundreds of eyes that fell upon her.
“So…” The Brit tried to start up a conversation, but it seemed impossible considering the near catatonic state Willow and Xander were in.
“So…” Oz repeated. Outstretching his hand he introduced himself. “I’m Oz.”
“Spike.” Spike replied shaking his hand.
“I know.” Oz stated.
The silence at the table seemed heightened by the low whispering that now plagued the cafeteria.
“Why are you here?” Willow finally managed to snap out of her daze.
“Just felt like sitting with the damsel in distress here.” Spike answered shovelling the food into his mouth.
“Damsel in distress?”
“Yep. Betty-“ Spike winced as Buffy kicked him under the table. “Hum… Buffy, here was being mugged on her way home and…” Spike glanced towards Xander only to realise that a fork was still dangling from his mouth. “Ok! That” he pointed at the boy. “Is really starting to freak me out. Is it normal?”
Immediately, Xander pulled the fork out of his mouth and set in on the table.
“Anyway, I happened to be passing by and was her knight in shining armour.”
Chapter 7:
“You saved Buffy from being robbed?” Xander finally asked.
“Oh, he can speak.” Spike mocked sarcastically. “And yep. Beat him up real good. And he wasn’t small either. Big, beefy, six feet and a half. Huge, giant- Ouch!”
He winced as Buffy once again aimed the heel of her boot to the sensitive flesh of his shin.
“He’s exaggerating.” The blonde intervened giving the table a wide, plastic smile.
“No, I’m not. He was huge and he had a gun-“
“No, he didn’t!” She cut him off shooting fireballs from her green eyes.
“Yes, he did. You just didn’t see it.” Spike insisted.
“No, he didn’t.”
“Yes, he did.”
“No, he –“
“Someone please stop them.” Oz pleaded monotonically.
“I-I think that the important thing is that you’re safe and nothing bad happened.” Willow, ever the diplomat intervened.
The two blondes eyed each other in disgust, eventually returning their attention to their plates. The rest of the meal was spent in an awkward silence.
“Well, we better go.” Buffy suddenly stood up as the stillness finally got to her.
“Yeah. Classes and all.” Willow agreed following Buffy and leaving the three men alone to stare at each other.
~+~
“What were you thinking?” Buffy shrieked as she strode quickly down the road.
“I was just doing what you told me to.” Spike defended himself as he quickened his pace to catch up to her.
“Six feet and a half? And with a gun?” She stopped to look at him, incredulous.
“What? So I embellished.” He admitted.
“Embellish? You call that embellish?” She asked with a frown. “I think you should buy yourself a dictionary because *that* was definitely not embellishing.
Embellishing doesn’t even begin to cover it. I mean, do you honestly think that they would believe you. How dumb do you think they are?” She saw the cocky grin starting to spread over his lips and quickly added: “Don’t answer that.”
With a loud sigh she began walking again, her house coming into view at the horizon.
“I wanted to make the story a little more interesting.” Spike tried to explain himself.
“Interesting? I thought we were aiming for believable.” She snarled as she continued to make her way home without dispensing him a glance.
They walked briskly and reached the front porch of her house.
“Look, I’m sorry, alright?” He apologized.
“Sorry?” She started but he interrupted her.
“Ok, could you please stop repeating every word I say? It’s really starting to get to me.”
“Grrr…” She growled pushing the door open and entering the house.
She stomped her way up the stairs and into her bedroom with Spike trailing behind. Her hand automatically reached for the hem of her shirt when she glanced at him with an annoyed look.
“Do you mind? I’m trying to get undressed here.”
“Oh! Sorry, luv! I’ll just wait downstairs.” Spike said awkwardly heading down the hall.
~+~
Angry footsteps echoed through the house as she made her way down the stairs.
“What are you still doing here?” She asked as she saw the Brit sprawled on her couch, TV remote in his hands as he mindlessly flipped through the channels.
“You’ve got cable.” He noted without looking at her.
“I know that. It’s my TV; it’s my living room, my house. What are you still doing in it?” Her words oozed with sarcasm as she stood there, arms folded over her chest.
Spike turned his head and glanced at her before returning his attention to the screen.
“We don’t have cable at home. Da thinks TV is a bad influence. Wants me to read books instead.” He mumbled.
Buffy stomped her way to the middle of the living room, standing between the Brit and the TV.
“You’re blocking the view, luv.” He grumbled looking up at her.
“Glad you noticed, it was the point. What are you still doing here?”
Sighing audibly, Spike sat up and turned off the TV.
“Talk about tomorrow.”
“What about tomorrow? Spike, wake up. It’s over! It didn’t work.” She tried to make him see.
“Of course it did.” He disagreed.
“What reality were you in? Cause in mine people were staring at us like we were two green eyed freaks or something. Everyone knows we hate each other. It’ll never work.” She maintained.
“It’s going to work.” Spike insisted standing up.
“Ok. Which part didn’t you get? Cause I can explain it again if you need me to.”
“I need to make this work, Bet-“
“IT’S BUFFY!” she screamed waving her hands in the air and trudging her way into the kitchen, leaving him behind.
After a few seconds, the Brit was in the tiled room, leaning against the fridge.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.
She just stood there, a warm mug of hot chocolate in her hands, watching him with an annoyed expression.
“I need for this to work…” he started after swallowing hard. “I-I need her back. I need Dru with me or…” The words chocked in his throat.
Somewhere, deep inside, she felt a hint of pity for the poor guy, but before she could stop herself, harsh words escaped her parted lips:
“You’re not gonna cry, are you?”
Spike froze, feeling as if someone had just punched him hard in the stomach. Looking up, he narrowed his eyes, instant anger flashing in them. Without a word, he turned on his heels and exited the house, slamming the door behind him.
She stood there for a second, a pang of regret causing her to ponder going after him. In took a few seconds, but eventually it disappeared and she turned towards the sink to wash the cup in her hands.
Chapter 8:
Buffy let her head fall limply to the desk, while in the background Mrs. Finch’s monotonic voice rambled on about the importance of mining being reflected in the prevalence of Crown rights over mineral wealth throughout much of Europe.
“God! Just kill me now and end my suffering.” She mumbled between clenched teeth.
As if someone had answered her prayer the bell rang out. In a flash, the petite blonde straightened up, looking wide eyed at the round clock up on the wall.
“It’s miracle!” she sang out, gathering her books and stuffing them into her backpack. “I survived! Thank God this Friday’s over”
“You really do hate history, don’t you?” The redhead asked as she waited for her friend.
“More than anything in the entire world.” Buffy answer as she walked out of the classroom followed by Willow. The small blond came to a halt as she saw the familiar bleached teen further down the hall. “Correction: it’s the second thing I hate most in the world.”
Willow sighed audibly as they made their way down the large corridor stopping by Buffy’s locker.
“So we are back to hating Spike?” The redhead asked.
“What?” the blond teen asked absentmindedly as she rummaged trough the contents of her locker.
“Hating Spike. Back on the priority list?”
“Oh, top priority! I’m definitely over my momentary lapse of reason on that one.” she nodded emphatically handing her books to Willow. “Hold these for a second.”
“Good, cause that little episode in the cafeteria yesterday just seemed… wrong.”
Buffy smiled reaching to take the books back from her best friend when the conversation going on a few feet away from them caught her attention.
“Come on, luv. Just for a second. I need to talk to you.” Spike’s begging tone made Buffy’s stomach crunch up as she turned to see the blonde teen leaning on the row of lockers lined up against opposite wall of the corridor.
She watched as the bleached Brit pleaded with an unyielding, black clad Dru.
“Please, just for a sec. I just need to talk to you, luv. Please!” He practically implored while the dark haired girl remained unaltered, arms crossed over her chest, staring annoyed into nothingness, occasionally letting out a disgusted sigh.
“Are you done yet? I told you Spike. It’s over I have nothing to say or hear from you. Get a life already, you’re starting to border on extremely pathetic.” She spat out turning on her heels to leave while everyone in the hall eyed the public humiliation of the Brit. But he didn’t care. He needed to talk to her, get some sense into that pretty little head of hers, so he grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him.
“Please, luv…” He begged once again.
“Let go of me!” Dru bellowed freeing her arm from his grip. “I-“
“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.”
The entire hall froze in place, watching the petite blonde snake her arms around Spike’s and give him a light peck on his chiselled cheek. Turning to Dru with a wide grin o her face Buffy greeted politely:
“Hey, Dru!”
The dark haired girl’s response was a deep frown, while Spike simply gawked at the small that now held hands with him.
“Well, we better go.” She said, practically dragging a dumbstruck Spike by his hand as she made her way down he hall. “Bye, Dru.” She waved lightly at Willow as she passed her by. “Bye, Willow. I’ll call you later.”
The redhead was left behind, gawking at the odd couple, her jaw glued to the floor along with everyone else’s.
~+~
Her arms snapped away from his the moment her feet touched the concrete on the other side of the street, away from prying eyes. She cringed a bit and doubled her pace as she noticed the bleached teen still staring at her. After a few painfully silent steps she came to an abrupt halt and turned to face him.
“What?” Buffy asked trying to sound as annoyed as she could, but the dominant emotion in her was definitely unease.
He cocked his head and his lips curled to one side for a light smile. Nodding, he said softly, setting his mouth in a straight line:
“Thanks, luv.”
She was a bit thrown by his reaction, it actually bordered on sincere. This was novelty. She shook her head nervously as if trying to push down the strange feeling that crept up her spine.
“You’re welcome, but don’t expect me to do that for you again anytime soon. I can feel a strange allergic reaction coming just from touching you.” She tried to sound convincingly disgusted but failed miserably and she could tell he wasn’t buying it as his trademark smirk crept over his lips.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and restarted to walk alongside her.
“Whatever you say, pet.”
“And don’t call me pet!” She snapped at him as a deep frown settled over her eyebrows in a frustrated attempt to emphasize her discontentment.
“Sure, luv.”
There it was again! On his face! That stupid, obnoxious, cocky grin that was making her… nervous? What?! No! Stupid, obnoxious, cocky grin was supposed to make her angry, disgusted not… nervous. Never nervous. Buffy kicked herself mentally as she realised too much time had passed since his last reply for her to come up with a successful comeback. “Stupid distracting grin!” she thought to herself as she kicked a pebbled that laid in her path.
Once again they walked in a nerve-racking silence, making her fidget with the straps of her coat. Suddenly, she whipped her head around to face him.
“Why are you here?” She asked out of nowhere.
“Because my da and mom were really horny about 18 years ago?” He offered with a smirk.
“Stupid, distracting… Concentrate!” She scolded herself mentally.
“Oh, you’re funny!” She replied sarcastically.
He smiled at her and eventually answered her question, matter-of-factly:
“Walking my girlfriend home.”
Somehow, that simple phrase made it impossible for her to control her breathing and swallowing at the same time and she was practically coughing her lungs out as she choked.
“Are you ok, luv?” He asked a bit concerned as he watched her bend over, trying hard to breathe.
At his question, she looked up at him, flushed face, shooting daggers at him.
“Don’t *cough*… call me *cough*cough*…”
She wasn’t able to finish her sentence as another onslaught of coughs took over her.
“Here. Drink some of this.” Spike handed her a silver flask and without thinking the petite blonde tilted into her mouth, spilling its contents down her throat. It took a few seconds for her brain to register the strong burning sensation that seemed to smoulder her entire oesophagus. Instantly, she dropped the flask and restarted another coughing fit. Spike watched in panic as the petite blonde’s face changed from red, to purple, to blue and finally back to infuriated scarlet as she began to scream at him:
“ARE YOU INSANE? WHAT THE HELL WAS IN THAT THING?”
“I-“
“Do you want to kill me? Is that it? I know we hate each other but…” The anger built so far up that she wasn’t even able to construct coherent, logical sentences anymore, so she simply started to march her way down the street and up the steps of her front porch with a panicked Spike trailing closely behind.
Chapter 9:
Spike watched with a deep frown over his eyebrows as Buffy, with her head tilted backwards, vigorously gargled before spitting into the kitchen sink. She turned to face the bleached teen with a disgusted look still plastered all over her face.
“God, I can’t-“ spit “get that horrible” spit “taste out of my mouth.” She whinged, moving towards the refrigerator.
She quickly picked up the first available bottle, tilted its content into her mouth, gulping loudly as the liquid passed her throat. Setting the glass on the table she waited for a second, smacking her lips together and cringing as she realised the awful taste was still in her mouth. It was no use and with a resounding sigh she plopped down on a nearby stool.
Spike remained at the doorway, leaning slightly into the wooden frame there. After a few moments, Buffy looked upwards throwing him a murderess glance.
“I hate you.” She grumbled as she smacked her lips together once more.
“Same here, Betty.” He answered, crossing his arms over his chest.
She opened her mouth to protest, but gave up half way. She was too tired. It was Friday afternoon and she’d had a full week, she just didn’t have the energy to spar with the annoying Brit. So she chose to remain there, perfectly still, occasionally letting out a sigh or two in the feeble hope that he might take a hint and simply leave. To her misfortune he did no such thing. On the contrary, in a sluggish pace, with the same exasperating grin plastered on his face, he made his way to the counter and took a stool opposite to hers.
“What do you want, bleach boy?” She grumbled as she held her head between her hands, her fingers buried in her blonde strands, her eyes staring down at the whiter counter. Before he had a chance to answer, she let out a heavy a sigh and looked up to stare at him under hooded eyes. “Why do you insist in torturing me? Just go. Go. Away. Be free.” She waved a tired hand at him, but he paid no attention to it.
“You know it’ll work. That’s why you helped me out today.”
“No, I helped you out because the spectacle was just so painfully pathetic, that it just wasn’t fun to watch anymore.” She replied, standing up, taking the bottle into her hand and placing it back in the refrigerator. She turned and leaned on its door as she continued: “Are you a masochist or something? Is that it? Cause I can’t understand why in God’s name you would put yourself through that embarrassing public humiliation just for her. What do you see in that skanky vapid-“
She wasn’t able to finish her sentence as the bleached teen was on his feet and towering over her small form in an instant.
“You hold your tongue when you talk about her.” He growled between clenched teeth.
A hint of fear sent a chill down her spine as she looked up at him, but her facial _expression never testified to it. Her strong, obstinate look was still on and it didn’t falter for a second, even though she couldn’t help letting out a small sigh of relief when he backed away moments after:
“Look, I’m sorry… I- Just don’t talk about Dru that way.” He finally managed to say as he moved back to the counter to lean on it.
With her hands held up in the air in a sign of surrender she moved away from him and replied:
“Fine.”
They stayed in an awkward silence for a few desperate minutes, both trying hard to find a topic that would put an end to their torment. Spike was the first to try:
“So…”
“So…” she replied.
“What about the plan? Is it back… on?” He dared to ask.
She couldn’t help but smile slightly.
“You really like her that much, huh?”
He simply nodded. It wasn’t necessary for him to say anything. Sighing once more, she shook her head as she couldn’t believe what she was about to say:
“Ok. Fine. I’ll do it.” She grumbled in a low voice.
An instant spark flashed in his eyes.
“What?” He asked incredulous.
“Are you deaf or something?”
He shook his head.
“I said I’ll do it, ok?”
In a flash he was off the counter and had his arms wrapped around her, smashing her small form against his chest in the process. Buffy froze, her paralyzed arms were glued to her sides, her blonde head popping out just over his elbows. She didn’t know what to say. She was in shock. Eventually, when she realised he wasn’t going to let go of her any time soon, she dared to pipe up:
“Hum... Spike? What are you doing?”
The simple question was enough to bring the teen down from his heightened emotions and in an instant he let her go, took a step backwards and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his duster in an awkward motion.
“Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.” He apologized.
“Next time you have an euphoria-induced brain spam, let me know, ok?” She said with a deep frown on her forehead.
He simply nodded and slumped back onto the stool.
“Why are you sitting down?” she asked, giving him a discontent glance, a perfectly shaped eyebrow cocking up.
“Hum...” He mumbled confused. “We have to plan.”
“Plan what?”
“What we are going to do tomorrow. You know. How we are supposed to act.” He tilted his head to emphasize that he was stating the obvious.
“Oh...” She frowned for a moment, pondering which would be the limits and finally answered: “We’ll walk together and hold hands.” And with that she turned around and concentrated on washing the two dirty dishes that her mom had left in the sink.
“Hold hands? That’s it?” He asked incredulous, coming to stand next to her.
Buffy’s eyes were fixed on the plate she held in her hands. Scrubbing it incessantly as the nervousness took over.
“Y-Yes.” She replied in a faltering tone.
“Oh, come on! Dru and Angel are never going to believe it if they don’t see some snogging.” He protested.
“Hey! I’m not going to-“ She struggled with the strange word as the jitteriness seemed to affect her ability to speak coherently. Finally, she managed to yelp as she shook her head emphatically: “There will definitely be no snogging. And there will be no one watching me and... you and... I- NO SNOGGING!” Her eyes dropped to the sink. ‘Damn it! No more dishes! What do I do now?’
Spike smiled as he realised what she was thinking.
“Snogging, luv. It means making out, french kissing. Nothing else.”
“Oh...” She sighed in relief when suddenly realisation came. “Wait! You want me and you to kiss? French kiss?!”
Spike nodded.
“Oooooh no! No way! I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole, let alone let you stick your slimy tongue down my throat. Yuck.” Her face contorted and cringed in all sorts of ways as she walked about the room, nervously searching for something to ocuppy herself with.
“We’re just supposed to hold hands?! They’ll never believe it and you know it!” He insisted.
“I. Am. Not. Kissing. You.” She said flatly.
“But-“
“Take it or leave it!” She stood tall, her chin held high in a sign of resolve and he couldn’t help but sigh, shaking his head as he mumbled.
“Fine... We’ll hold hands...”
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