Chapter One

Some people hated moving, especially in high school. High school, they would complain, is a four-year experience that has to be lived in the same town, with the same people, same environment, same, well,… everything, basically. Otherwise, life would utterly be ruined and you would die. More or less.

Strangely enough, this wasn’t the case with a particular girl that went by the name of Buffy Summers.

At the moment, she was staring at the full-length mirror at her polo-shirt and khaki pants claden body, reminiscing the old days. Well, not so much with the reminiscing, and more with the shuddering-at-the-dreadful-memory. It all started on a bright sunny morning on the first day of kindergarten. A day that all kids looked forward to…

**flashback – kindergarten**
……………………………………

“Hi, I’m Melanie, what’s your name?” the dark-haired, bouncy girl asked Buffy with a toothy grin. Buffy grinned back, happy to have made a friend so quickly.

“My name’s Buffy!” she replied happily.

Melanie wrinkled her nose. “Buffy? Like huffy Buffy? Shmuffy Buffy, Fluffy Wuffy!”

Buffy blinked. She didn’t understand the girl’s problem. “Yeah!”

“I hate you,” Melanie decided, turning her back on the blonde in pigtails. “Buffy’s a stupid name.”
……………………………………

**end flashback**

And so it had continued through first grade, elementary school, intermediate, and when she thought junior high would change all things… it hadn’t. First off, she tried out for the cheerleading squad. Big mistake that turned out to be, earning her the name of “Kluffy” – an ingenious mix of ‘klutz’ and ‘Buffy’. Cheerleaders were so original.

After that incident, she had become a pronounced nerd who’s only friend was her brand new TI-83 calculator, silver edition to boot. And of course,… once a nerd, always a nerd. Throughout junior high and into high school. Well that is, until the summer before junior year.

Which brought her back to standing in front of her full-length mirror, staring back at the class loser in the reflection.

While most normal teenagers would have kicked and screamed at the notion of moving halfway through high school, Buffy welcomed it with open arms. The way she saw it – new school, new image, no more loser-Buffy. Sounds like a plan to me, she thought with a small smile, carefully fingering her messy locks of brown hair and thick, wire-rimmed glasses.

New school, new image, new Buffy.

Sunnydale High School, beware.

…………………………

Buffy stared at the racks of clothing in front of her at Armani Exchange and immediately felt completely lost. With her mother’s credit card safely tucked into the wallet that she was clutching with a sweaty hand, she was reminded, again, that this was the first time she had ever gone shopping. Alone. Her mother was nowhere to be found – most likely mesmerized by a wok over in The KitchenWare at the other end of the mall.

“Excuse me, miss,” an sales assistant approached her with a huge smile, “can I help you?”

Turning, Buffy gulped and nodded her head. Oh boy.

………………………………………………………………

Meanwhile

“You’re breaking up with me?” Spike Pratt’s voice was laced with disbelief. He heard a sigh over the telephone line and knew his girlfriend – ex-girlfriend as of a second or so ago – was twirling the cord in her finger and probably rolling her eyes around.

“Yes, William,” she said, sounding a little exasperated, “I’m breaking up with you.”

“Okay…” he drawled out, trying to prolong the conversation, “what exactly brought about this change of heart?”

“Nothing much,” she shrugged, holding the cordless phone between her ear and shoulder as she filed a nail, “Got bored of you, mainly.”

“Bored of me!” Spike roared, leaping up to his feet. Drusilla winced, and pulled the phone away from her ear. “It’s been one bloody month and you’re bored of me?! Do you even know who you’re talking to, Dru?”

Drusilla held her breath and counted to five, listening for the inevitable ’My name is Spike Pratt! My da owns this and that and I’m the blah blah of the soccer team and all these girls would blah blah blah blah’… she had heard it once too many times already.

“I’m Spike,” he emphasized his name, “Do you know how many girls would be dying to be in your shoes right now, you stupid cow? I own the football team, my da owns all the – “

The line went dead.

“- companies… Dru?” he asked into the phone then brought it away from his ear to frown at it. “Drusilla? Dru! DRU!?”

Frustrated, he slammed the phone down in its cradle. Fucking bitch, he glared at it before storming out of his room.

Sod it all. I’ll show her.

…………………………………

“Well… do you love her?” Angel asked, panting a little bit as he moved to the right to hit the ball with his tennis racket.

“Course I do,” Spike grunted as the ball made contact with his own racket and flew back across the net. “Best bloody shag ever, mate.”

Angel backhanded it and sighed. “That’s not what I meant – “

“And her mouth,” his friend continued, not faltering a beat, “wow… that’s the only word. The things she would do – “

The sun was high in the hot afternoon and both boys were sweating from playing tennis for over an hour or so.

“Who does she think she is?” Spike complained as Angel served. The ball came flying to his side neatly, and he swung his racket, not really paying attention. “She can’t just leave me because she’s bored.”

“Actually,… yeah, she can,” Angel informed him. Spike glared. “Is it that hard to believe someone would break up with you, Spike?”

“Uh – “ Spike pretended to think, rolling his eyes up to the top of his head and forgetting to hit the ball that came his way. “Yeah.”

“Has anyone ever thrown the words ‘egotistical bastard’ to you?” Angel asked, sighing and tossing his racket to the side of the court and walking over to his bag to get a bottle of water. Spike shrugged.

“Once or twice…” he counted, nonchalantly, then added, “Though, it mostly came from women, Peaches.”

“Don’t call me that,” Angel growled, annoyed.

“Don’t rightly care, though,” he continued, ignoring his friend, “Egotistical is as egotistical does. I can have anyone in the bloody school and Dru knows that.”

Angel raised an eyebrow and threw a cold water bottle to his friend.

“Right…”











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A/N: kay, there's a start... tell me how you guys like it. so far, at least.

(just so you guys know... Buffy still has brown hair in this chapter. It'll change in a little bit. I also realized that i had her with blonde hair when she was in kindergarten last chapter... My bad. Or... can people start off with blonde hair when they're kids and have it darken to a natural brown?)


Chapter Two

Buffy pulled her Mustang into the visitor’s parking lot in front of the school. She could see students everywhere, getting out of their cars, calling out to their friends, excited – or some, not so excited – to start a new year. Students everywhere who didn’t know who she was… her breath strangled itself in her throat.

Nervously fiddling with the frayed edge of her skirt that covered half of her newly-tanned thigh, Buffy closed her eyes and tried to relax her nerves. She pulled down the mirror from her sun-visor and took one last glance at her appearance. Her straight, brown hair was twisted into two loose French braids that fell down either side of her head and her glasses were just a little bit lopsided. Frowning, she tried to adjust them; contacts were out of the question since she had stuck the mascara wand into her right eye and had spent half an hour washing it out and crying. Today would definitely be the last day she ever tried applying that horrible stuff.

“Okay… rule number twenty-nine,” she said to herself, getting out of the car and smoothing her skirt down over her thighs. “Head up, shoulders back, walk tall. Well… try to walk tall. Give a good first impression.”

With that, she threw her shoulders back, put on a megawatt smile and walked to her full 5’3’’ potential all the way down to the front entrance.

Sunnydale beware, Buffy Summers is here.

………………………………………

“I could name a million birds who would kill to have been Drusilla!” Spike fumed. Angel and Oz gave each other matching faces and rolled their eyes simultaneously.

“He’s still going on about that,” Angel muttered so only Oz could hear him.

“Apparently,” Oz agreed.

“I mean, I gave her everything,” Spike continued, “Beautiful jewels, beautiful diamonds, beautiful dresses with beautiful girls in them – “

“There, my man, is your problem,” Angel cut him off, grinning, “You gave Drusilla dolls? What the hell, man?”

“They were antique! From Italy!” Spike argued, glaring, “Cost a bloody fortune, they did.”

Angel kept grinning and shaking his head. “You probably scared her away. I mean, what,… you went out with her for one month? Pricey gifts are scheduled for the third month anniversary, buddy.”

Spike gave him an incredulous look, then turned to Oz. “Did the big Poof just give me dating advice?”

“Think so,” Oz replied, noncommittally. Angel shot him a look and he shrugged.

“Thought that’s what I heard…,” Spike started laughing and raised an eyebrow in Angel’s direction. “You want to talk to me about shoulder pads and rugby uniforms, that’s all fine and dandy. But when it comes to pleasing women? That’s my expertise there, mate.”

Slapping Angel on the back, he turned his back and swaggered down another hall to head to his first period Calculus class.

Glaring at Spike’s retreating figure, Angel grumbled under his breath, “Well, last time I checked, I wasn’t the one that got dumped after one month.”

………………………

Spike was bored out of his mind. His Calculus BC teacher was even less entertaining than the Calc AB teacher last year. And that was saying something. He felt his eyelids start to droop and his head start to get heavy.

Nice, Caribbean beach with girls in bikinis everywhere… no, make it European beach… with nude girls everywhere… Ah. This was the life... his mind was about to wander off to a happy place when suddenly the door to the classroom swung open.

All heads shot up and turned to look at the intruder. Well, all heads except for Mr. Travers, the teacher. He continued rambling on and on about something… “Blah blah blah derivatives, blah blah integrals, blah blah area, calculus, blahty da da.”

A short, cute brunette girl in a short, cute denim skirt was standing by the doorway, biting her lip and seeming incredibly nervous. She was playing with one of the French braids that hung from her head and glanced around the classroom uneasily. It was obvious she wasn’t sure what she should do and Spike grinned in spite of himself.

“Yo, Mr. T,” a voice called out. Mr. Travers spun around and stared at the black guy in the third row who was waving his hand around. “Some chick by the door,” the hand pointed in the new girl’s direction.

Mr. Travers turned his head and stared at her. She smiled a little and handed him a slip of paper. He took it and squinted.

“All right, just pick a seat,” he said in his monotonous voice and went right back to facing the blackboard and talking about derivatives.

…………

Buffy quickly scanned the classroom for an empty seat and found one in front of a guy with funny-looking bleached hair. She hurried to it and sat down, thankful that the teacher hadn’t made her introduce herself to the class.

The guy behind her was drumming his desk with a pencil. It was starting to get irritating, but she didn’t say a word about it and just reached down to the floor to pick a notebook from her backpack to take notes with.

She realized that she had forgotten to bring a pencil or a pen or any type of writing utensil. Groaning, she put her head in her hand. Nice job, Buffy, she scolded herself, first day of school and you forget a pencil. Real good.

Suddenly, something poked her from behind.

She swiveled around and found herself staring into the bluest eyes she had ever seen in her life. The blue-eyed guy gave her a smirk and held up his pencil for her, lifting up an eyebrow as if daring her to take it. In a bit of a dazed shock, she took the pencil, gave him a small smile, then turned back around. To take notes. But for some reason, every time the teacher said ‘function’, she found herself thinking back to the blue eyes and the blonde hair.

Weird.

…………

The bell rang and Spike let out a relieved sigh. The girl in front of him tucked a loose strand of hair that had fallen out of her braid behind her ear and jumped to her feet. Spike smiled, noticing that her short skirt had risen a little bit, giving him quite a pleasant view.

She leaned down to grab her backpack and Spike’s smile grew wider. Feeling confident, he got to his feet slowly and took one step towards her. She didn’t notice his head lowering itself to her ear level and she didn’t notice his hand come closer to her body until it made contact with the small of her back.

She jumped up with a little squeal and heard a deep voice purr into her ear.

“I see London, I see France,” Spike whispered into her ear, letting his hand run down her back slowly.

She shivered and he fought back the urge to laugh before tugging down on her skirt from behind. “I see Betty’s underpants.”

He saw her face turn a nice, solid shade of fuchsia and awarded her with a little wink and a big smirk. With that, he headed towards the door and out of the calculus room.

…………

Buffy stared at his back with wide eyes.

“Dammit,” she muttered under her breath, swinging her backpack over her shoulder and following him out of the classroom. “Rule number thirty-nine. Always pull your skirt down before sitting as to not give freak behind me an eyeful when I get up. I’m such an idiot.”

Chapter Three

Buffy followed the swarms of students making their way to the lunchroom. So far, her plan hadn’t gone as well as she had hoped. She had met absolutely nobody and talked to … you guessed it, absolutely nobody. Well, that is, If you didn’t count the pervert who pulled on her skirt. Jerk.

She got to the red double doors and paused, weighing her options. One. Sit at a table by herself… Two. Find a random table and join whoever was in it… Three. Run to the library and eat lunch alone.

Glancing around the packed cafeteria, Buffy decided to go with option three and make a run for it. But, before she had a chance to turn around, she felt her arm being grabbed from behind.

“Hi, I’m Cordelia!” a brown-haired girl with a bouncy ponytail chirped, flashing Buffy a wide smile. “I heard you’re the new girl from L.A.! So, how do you like Sunnydale so far?”

“How-“

“Oh, news travels real fast,” Cordelia cut her off, then started leading her through the throng of students to her lunch table, “You know how it is. Small town, people gossip, before you know it, you have no secrets. Or at least, no secret that nobody knows about.”

They got to a table that was already half full. The occupants looked up at them and Cordelia happily began the introductions.

“Everybody, this is Buffy. Buffy, this is everybody.”

Then, she plucked out a seat for Buffy to sit in and dropped into the chair next to her. The people at the table just laughed at Cordelia’s flippant ‘introduction’ and a dark-haired boy decided to take the initiative.

“That’s Cordy for ya… Hi, Buffy, I’m Xander,” he grinned, “Alexander when you’re mad at me, Alex if you’re my grandmother, Xanman if you must, … and Xan-the-man when you feel real– “

“Xander,I’m the only one that’s allowed to call you that,” a blonde cut in, sending Buffy a warning look. Xander put his arms around her and whispered something in her ear, making her eyes widen. She shook her head at him, “No, Xander, I only call you Pookie when you’re about to give me orgas-“ he clamped his hand over her mouth and the rest of the word came out muffled.

“The girl with the big mouth is Anya,” a girl with a slight accent, pale skin, and dark hair said. She raised her chin and tilted her head. Buffy fought the urge to gulp at the girl’s even gaze. “My name’s Drusilla. It’s nice to meet you, Buffy.”

…………

Spike spotted Angel and Oz sitting with a few soccer players at the far end of the cafeteria and carefully made his way through the crowd of students walking around with hazardous lunch trays begging to be tipped over and dropped down someone’s shirt. Some girls called out to him and waved, some guys slapped his back, other people greeted him and he grinned back at all of them. So far, being a senior felt bloody great. It was about time to rule the school.

“Hey Spike,” a hand trailed up his arms and Spike turned his head to see Harmony looking up at him through long lashes. His eyes moved passed her head and he noticed Drusilla sitting at a table, staring at the two of them. Well, well, well… he turned back to Harmony and flashed her a melting smile.

“How’ve you been, Harm?” he slipped an arm around her waist and she pressed herself against him, lavishing up the attention he was giving her.

“Better now that I’ve seen you,” she flirted, flinging her hair back and bringing her face closer to his. “I heard about you and Drusilla. Gosh, that must really suck being dumped like that, Spikey. If you ever want somebody to talk to… you know where I am. Here. Right… next… to you.”

He sent her off with a peck on the cheek then looked around to see if Drusilla was still watching. Disappointed to see her caught up in an animated conversation with the new brunette girl he had met earlier in Calculus, he sighed and walked up to his lunch table.

…………

“Dude,” Devon said, mouth full of hamburger, “You meet the new girl yet?”

Spike’s eyes flickered in her direction and he shrugged. Angel, Oz, and Riley followed his gaze. Angel gave a low whistle, raking his eyes over as much bare leg he could see from under the table. Riley nodded his appreciation.. he didn’t know how to whistle.

“She’s hot, man,” Angel approved, dipping his French fry in mayonnaise. Spike watched him and pretended to gag, earning himself an annoyed look.

“You know how gross that is?” he pointed at the mayonnaise-drenched French fry hanging out of Angel’s mouth. Angel rolled his eyes.

“I should,” he answered, swallowing and going for another, “You told me everyday at lunch last year.”

“Well, some things don’t change, do they Peaches?” Spike smirked, popping open his soda can and taking a swig.

Angel picked up a fry to chuck at him and grinned. “You’re one to talk, Captain Peroxide.” He threw it and missed, making Spike start laughing again.

“Gotta touch up that aim, now,” he mock-glared, “Seems like you’re a bit lacking.”

Devin cut in their banter and raised both eyebrows at Spike. “Hey Spike, man,” he started, “Angel and Oz told me something interesting this morning…”

“Oh yeah?” Spike asked, “And what would that be?”

“Something about your expertise,” Devin continued, then looked over at Oz, “What was it again?”

“Women,” Oz supplied and Devin nodded.

“Yeah,… so, when did pleasing women become your expertise, dude?” he asked, grinning. He could feel a bet coming up and wanted to see if Spike would fall for the bait.

“Always been,” Spike’s smile turned daring as he leaned back in his seat. “What can I say? I’m quite the charmer.”

“Yeah, and Dru must have been so charmed…” Angel snickered. Spike took an open ketchup packet and flung it at him, hitting him squarely in the chest. Angel jumped up and glared, “What the hell, man?”

“What, you don’t believe me?” Spike put his hands behind his head, shrugging off Angel’s outraged look. “I can have any and every girl in this school on their knees begging for more. And you. know. it.”

Devin saw his opportunity and took it. “So… you’re saying if we pick any girl in this cafeteria – “

“Granted, she doesn’t already have a fellah,” Spike cut in. Devin nodded and continued.

“So, if we pick any single, free, available girl in this cafeteria… you’ll have her on her back in record time?”

“Give me a week or two, and she’ll be more than just on her back,” Spike said, smugly. “You can bet on it.”

Angel gave Devin a look of comprehension and slowly started to smile, despite the state of his red-stained shirt. Riley and Oz looked on in silence, sensing what was about to take place.

“I think I will,” Angel looked Spike straight in the eye. “I’ll pick any girl I want, and I’ll give you two weeks to get in her pants. If you do, you win. If you don’t… ”

“Oh, don’t fret, Forehead. I won’t lose. Pick your lucky girl.”

…………

“No,” Spike shook his head, setting his fist down on the table. “There’s no way.”

“Aw, come on, man,” Angel grinned, staring at the overweight girl in overalls they had just been assessing. “She’s not that bad. I heard the extra skin’s good for leverage!”

“Bloody hell!” Spike widened his eyes, “That’s not extra skin! That chit can get liposuction and it’d still be more than extra skin! No.”

Angel sighed, and shifted his gaze across the cafeteria. Suddenly, he perked up and pointed out another girl, “Ooh, how about that one?”

Spike followed his hand and groaned. “When I told you to pick out a girl, I meant she had to be straight, you soddin’ prick.”

Tilting his head, Angel furrowed his eyebrows, “Wait, what?” he studied the girl, closely. “I didn’t know she was a lesbian… just… manly.”

“Yeah, you would think that,” Spike grumbled. “Moving on…”

Devin interrupted them. “Hey, Spike, what do you think of that new girl?”

“Virgin,” he said, absentmindedly and took a swig of his soda. He didn’t realize that a small smile had crept up his lips as he remembered the little peak he had gotten of her virginal, white little panties.

Angel looked up, surprised. “How would you know?”

“Trust me, mate,” Spike shook his head. “I know.”

“Hmm,” Angel thought for a moment. Then, he said, slowly, “Think you can bed her in two weeks, Spike?”

Spike’s eyes suddenly lit up as his head automatically turned to watch Buffy as she recrossed her legs and laughed across the cafeteria.

“You bet I can.”




.........................
A/N: Hey, thanks for the reviews guys, i really, really appreciate the support. For those of you waiting on 'Stronger'... i've got the new chapter halfway written. There's a lot of heavy stuff and it's kind of difficult to write it right... so you can probably expect that up within a day or two, give or take.

For the record... this fiction should remain pretty light-hearted throughout MOST of it. I got the idea when i was rewatching "She's All That". It's not going to be the same as that movie at all, but as you can see... there will be some light angst. Nothing so bad that you'll cry your eyes out, though. At least i hope not. I guess i really can't tell from this point in the story. Hope you guys liked this chapter. Review! Yay!

thanks for the reviews guys, they make me feel a lot better about writing. I hope you guys aren't THAT hard on Spike, b/c if you think about it... he's a high school guy... a rich, obnoxious, high school guy... and sometimes when i see some of the guys at my school and the way they talk about girls?... this spike seems like a gentleman.

NOT that i'm condoning his actions... i just don't think people should be saying that "he doesn't deserve" Buffy just yet.

anyways... hope you like this chapter.



Chapter Four

Buffy shifted uncomfortably in her seat as Xander, Anya, Drusilla, and Cordelia talked animatedly about an upcoming party. She really wasn’t accustom to sitting at a lunch table with a group of people, especially if that group of people had willingly accepted her and liked her. It was all a little overwhelming for her. Taking a sip of her juice, she tried to loosen up and appear calm. Rule number fifteen: Nod, smile, relax, be cool, calm, and collected.

“So, you up for the Bronze tonight, Buff?” Xander turned his smile her way and Buffy blinked a few times, trying to comprehend the question.

“Uh… the who?” she asked, confused, looking around the table.

Cordelia piped up. “Oh, you have to go,” she insisted, putting a hand on Buffy’s arm, “It’s like the only club worth going to in this town. As I’ve told you. This town is like, way dead.”

“As opposed to… just a little dead, right Cordy?” Xander rolled his eyes, but grinned nonetheless. Cordy sent him a little glare, then refocused her attentions on the new brunette girl.

“Forgive him,” she smiled, pretending to seem apologetic, “he can’t help it that he’s a spineless worm.”

“Hey!” Anya snapped her head away from Xander’s neck, “He may be a spineless worm, but he’s my spineless worm!”

Xander groaned, “Not helping, Ahn.”

“When’s the last time you’ve seen a worm with a spine?” Drusilla asked, seeming a little bored and swirling her mashed potatoes around in her plate. “You’re just a worm, Xander.”

Buffy smiled at how easily her new friends talked to one another. She had heard somewhere once that you could measure the comfort factor between people by their ability to insult each other without taking offense. Taking a deep breath, she decided to try it out… after all, she was trying to fit in.

“I think you’re a grasshopper, Xander,” Buffy put in her two cents, smiling at the table. She was met with silence from all around. Drusilla stopped playing with her potatoes, Anya turned to stare at her, Cordelia dropped her fork, and Xander gaped. What? Was grasshopper… something bad to say?

Suddenly, they all burst out laughing, choking on their food as they did so. Drusilla covered her mouth with a pale hand. “I think you’ll fit in fine,” she smiled through her fingers.

Buffy sat back, pleased with herself. She had just told her first joke and people had laughed. Granted, it wasn’t really funny, but still. She had made people laugh and that was definitely an improvement from the normal sneers she was used to receiving.

Getting a strange feeling that she was being watched, she furrowed her eyebrows and twisted around in her seat. She had been getting that funny tingling feeling all through lunchtime, as if somebody was staring intently at her.

Glancing around, she found her green eyes locked with the blue of the bleached blonde pervert in her Calculus class. Her eyes widened momentarily and when he lifted the sides of his mouth up in a smirk, she quickly turned back to her table.

…………

Drusilla Capuls walked through the semi-empty halls to her English class, alone. She had left lunch early to meet up with a special somebody by the water fountains. As she walked, she started thinking about the new girl in braids that she had just met and she couldn’t help but smile a little. She had liked her right from the bat – the girl was innocence personified. Buffy had a sort of quick, naïve humor and was easily accepted into the group.

An arm wrapped around her waist and all thoughts of Buffy fluttered out of her mind as she found herself dragged into a familiar janitor’s closet. She stifled a giggle and turned around in Angel’s arms, running her fingers up his chest and into his hair as she pulled him down for a sweet kiss.

“Hey, baby,” he murmured against her lips, pushing her against the hard wall with his body, and groping at the air blindly for the string that turned on the single light bulb overhead.

“Angel,” she breathed, giggling lightly and pulling him closer. She closed her eyes as he found the string and pulled hard, lighting up the little closet. “I missed you so...”

“Oh really?” he grinned, then dipped his head to capture her lips again. His hands moved up her waist from her hips, until they cupped her breast, kneading them gently. She shuddered and he smiled. He took a small step back and studied her breathless face. “I’ve got to stop seeing you like this…”

“Well, you only have to ask – “ she started, but he shook his head.

“You know the circumstances, babe. And on top of that, Spike’s still not over his … ‘how could she do this to me’ tirade,” his face dropped and he looked at the ground. “Really, Dru… you had to choose Spike?”

“What did you expect?” she sighed, bringing her hands to his chest and played with his shirt, “I can’t wait for you forever.”

“You know I love you,” he cupped her face, making her meet his eyes. “It killed me, having to hear that idiot say those things about you… “

“It was only you, Angel,” Drusilla tried to smile, but Angel knew it was forced. “Spike… he… I just wanted to show you that I could be with anyone I wanted. But you know what happened.”

“You couldn’t?” he asked with a hopeful tone in his voice. She shook her head and he pulled her towards him in a tight hug. “Good. I was going to beat his British ass back to where it came from, too.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I ended it,” she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him tenderly on the lips.

She vaguely heard the sound of a zipper as he undid his pants and slid his hands up her thighs. They had been seeing each other for almost a year, not counting the summer. Of course, it had to be in secret, since the Capuls and the Montacs – Angel’s family – had been in a feud since before either Drusilla or Angel were even conceived. She remembered the first time she had met him, the summer before high school. There had been a double booking at Sunnydale Park for two family reunions. It just so happened that the families that double booked were the Capuls and the Montacs, and the rage over the park had heated up to crazy scales. She didn’t remember it all to well, but the one thing she did remember was seeing a tall, brown-haired boy sitting under a tree, his face drawn and deep in thought.

They hadn’t started seeing each other until just last year and whereas she wanted to just say ‘to hell with it’ and publicly announce their dating status, he had her swear to keep their relationship a secret. And there was no telling how much it had hurt her to see his cover-up girlfriend, Darla, hang herself from his arms. So she had resorted to William. Spike Pratt. The Pratt family was in mutual ground and in good standing with all – perfect, so to speak.

And now it had come back to this. Back to square one… private gropings in janitor’s closets and secret meetings far from society’s eyes.

But she forgot to care as she cried out, feeling Angel enter her swiftly and shoving back hard against the wall.

…………

Buffy pitched forward and closed her eyes. Goddammit, her mind groaned as she started falling to the floor… a big, black, scary death. She was wearing heels and in her hurry, had forgotten the last step and here she was, falling down, down, down… she never hit the floor.

“Gotcha, love,” a very British voice was saying. Buffy opened her eyes and found herself staring, once again, into those ocean blue eyes. Stumbling a little, she steadied herself in his arms and got back to her feet, still dazed.

Spike waited for Buffy to let go of his arm before stepping back and taking a look at her. Cor, she’s beautiful, his mind silently mused as he took in her brown, braided hair that was starting to loosen, her wide, green eyes under little black-rimmed glasses, her crooked nose and her lips which were currently being bitten down upon with her front teeth. She was wearing a casual green shirt with that denim skirt with a frayed hem that he had grown to love. And of course, irrational heels that would make anybody fall flat on their face.

Finding himself starting to wander off in a dreamland staring Buffy, he almost visibly shook his head, scolding himself for his awed reaction. She’s just cute. Just cute and definitely worth a shag, he told himself.

“Do I have something on my face?” Buffy’s voice brought him back to earth. He snapped to attention.

“What? No!” Spike told her, a little shaken up. She scrunched up her nose a little and he amended his earlier reaction by giving her a smirk.

“Oh,” she said, then paused. “Okay.”

“Where you headed off to, pet?” his smirk grew wider and he gallantly held out an arm towards her. She just stared at it, blankly.

“Uh…” Where am I going, where am I going? she racked her brain,.. Oh right, Physics!. “Physics!” Then she added, “Is your arm okay? You’re holding it kind of funny-like.”

He just chuckled, although she surprised him a little. “I’ll be your noble escort, m’lady,” he bowed, making her blush.

Buffy felt her face turn red. Here was this guy, who was totally hot – and perverted, holding his arm out for her to take, and telling her he was escorting her to class. This had never happened before, and she had to take deep breaths to keep herself from jumping for joy. And then she remembered… Oh my god… he saw my underwear!

“Oh,… uh,” she stammered, smoothing down her skirt unconsciously, “um… it’s not that far, we’re almost there, I can make it myself.”

“Now what’s the fun in that?” he took a step closer, smiling when he saw her shiver. “Cold, love?”

“Nope, just nervous,” she blurted out, then instantly slapped her hand down on her mouth. Rule number twenty-three: Never tell a guy he makes you nervous.

Spike was a little taken aback and a lot proud. “Nervous of big, bad Spike?” he grinned at her.

“Spike?”

“That’s what they call me,” he told her.

“Oh.” She tilted her head, obviously in thought, “Why Spike?”

“You’ll find out in time,” he waggled his eyebrows and she jumped away. He laughed inwardly. It was evident that she had caught on and was now incredibly embarrassed. And now, she was running off.

“Oh, well, look at the, you know, time,” she scampered away, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll see you later, Spike.” Before he could realize what was happening, she disappeared around a corner.

Bollocks, he silently cursed, turning around to head for his study hall period.

When Buffy turned the corner, she took a deep breath. Now… where is my classroom?

…………

Drusilla and Angel emerged from the janitor’s closet after making sure there was nobody coming down the hall. They fixed their hair and straightened their shirts, casting each other secret, shy glances every once in a while.

“So,” Angel said, after clearing his throat, “Spike’s thinking about asking Buffy out…”

“Oh really?” Drusilla looked around, a little distracted. “That’s nice.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking away, “Real nice.”

And they went their separate ways.




..........................
I had to add the "Romeo and Juliet" thing for Dru and Angel. I just had to. I think they're relationship will be the second major thing in this story... at first, i was just going to mention it a little, but i think maybe it'll be better if i bring more attention to it.

Also, Dru's going to be a major factor in this story.

AND... Just so ya'll know, Buffy WONT simply let Spike walk all over her. She'll give him a run for his money. Definately.

I hope you guys enjoyed this.

Reviews! Yayy!

Chapter Five

With one hand on the steering wheel and another hand sticking out of the window, a cigarette propped between his thumb and index finger, Spike cruised across the parking lot looking for his braided, brunette target with the cute nose and the green shirt.

“She has to be here somewhere,” he muttered to himself, squinting through the crowded lot of students streaming out of the building. He had made up his mind that if he wanted to get her in his bed within a week, he had better start acting quickly. And, by the few meetings he had with her, getting her to agree on a date with him might be just a little challenging. Nothing he couldn’t handle though, he thought.

Finally, he caught sight of a short form scrambling out of the school doors with her face buried inside her knapsack, obviously searching for something. Spike couldn’t help the grin from growing on his face and he watched happily as Buffy pulled out car keys with a triumphant smile and zipped up her bag.

She started walking towards her car and Spike followed, slowly, in his vintage black Desoto, keeping a distance, but getting close enough as not to lose her. He noticed her adjust her skirt repeatedly as she made her way around the car-filled lot and he nearly laughed out loud. So his comment had gotten to her after all, he thought, smugly.

“Figures the bird would have a Mustang,” he shook his head when he heard the beep from a nearby car as she pressed the unlock button on her keys. Oblivious to her observer, Buffy pulled open the driver’s seat door and threw her backpack onto the backseat.

When the backlights of the Mustang lit up, Spike decided to make his move, gassing his car until it blocked her exit, trapping her in her parking spot.

…………

“Oh shit!” Buffy cursed at herself when she saw a old-looking black car speed up towards her and slammed onto her brakes. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again, glancing up to her rear-view.

Oddly enough, the black Desoto was directly behind her car. She narrowed her eyes then sighed to herself. Stupid, annoying people who don’t know how to drive, she thought, glaring at the car in the mirror. There was a car across from her and now she was blocked in. Great.

Suddenly, Buffy heard a rapping nose on her window and jumped, turning her head to see who was out there. And stared straight into the smiling, blue eyes of the familiar, annoying, handsome Spike Pratt.

He waved at her and she rolled down her window, a little bit confused.

“Hello, cutie,” he drawled, leaning down to the window.

“Uh,” she began, flustered, “I, uh,… did you want something?”

Spike smirked and let his eyes peruse her body slowly before meeting her eyes again. She blushed brilliantly. “Well now that you mention it,” his voice lowered a few notches and his eyebrow raised.

Buffy was speechless. She had little to no experience with boys whatsoever and this… well this was a bit overwhelming, to tell the truth. Her eyes widened at his innuendo and she opened her mouth, then closed it again when she could think of nothing to say.

“But really,” he continued, seeing her dilemma and enjoying her discomfort, “I think that’d be moving a little fast, don’t you, pet? How about we start off with a date?”

**flashback**

”Hello, … Buffy,” Michael stressed the last part of her name as he took a step closer to her, causing her to back into the lockers.

“Um, Hi!” she replied brightly, shifting her eyes up and down the hallway nervously, noticing a small crowd forming around them. He put a hand against the top locker and moved even closer. She could feel his breath on her face and now her heart was pounding harder than ever.

So, yeah, she’s had a crush on him since fifth grade, but…

“So, what are you doing this Saturday?” he asked her, lowering his voice, but keeping it just loud enough so the people closest to them could catch onto his words. They started whispering amongst each other immediately and a few girls giggled.

“Probably, uh, homework…” she said, meekly. He raised his other hand and brought it to her hair, running his fingers through the long strands until they got stuck onto a knot. Buffy winced, feeling a few strands of hair getting pulled out and nearly passed out right then and there as he tried to pry his fingers away from the tangled mess.

When his hand was finally free, he gave her another smothering smile and leaned down.

“Do you want to go out with me?”

She was surprised. More than surprised. There was something deep inside her heart that felt like it was exploding into magnificent fireworks. A boy asked her out! This was the first time… She didn’t know what to reply. What if she made a fool out of herself? What if she… wasn’t good at dating? What if – But, if she said no… what if she never got asked out again?

Setting her jaw in place, she raised her chin and said, “I’d love to.”

The seconds passed like hours and he finally backed away, a smile still plastered on his face. “That’s great, but I just remembered, I’m not free on Saturday. Or any other weekends, actually. I just wanted to know if you wanted to, and now that I know that you do… that’s just fucking hilarious!”

Her cheeks burnt up as the students surrounding them started to laugh along with him…

**end flashback**

“Uh, I’m busy,” she said, forcing herself to look somewhere other than his beautiful, blue eyes. He was just like any other… he’d make a joke out of it and she’d seem like a fool.

“What?” he furrowed his eyebrows, not expecting that… “But I never told you what day! How can you be busy?”

“I just… am?” her voice faltered when she heard the confusion in his tone. Buffy bit her bottom lip and fiddled with the steering wheel. What was it about him?

Spike tilted his head to the side, studying her profile. “What are you doing tonight?” he asked her, not giving up. There was something in her eyes that told him she was scared, and he wanted to break down her defenses. As each moment passed, he felt more and more determined to get passed the wall she had built around her.

“Homework,” was her automatic reply.

“Didn’t work, love,” he shook his head, grinning again. “First bloody day of school, isn’t it? No homework.”

“Oh,” she managed after a brief pause. She turned around to look at him again and once again, was trapped in his steady gaze. Maybe,… maybe he was being serious. No.

Her mind dueled with itself and she finally stood on a middle ground. “Cordelia said something about a Bronze… and I think I might be there tonight,” she said, shyly.

“Then I’ll be there, too,” he raised himself up from her window and winked at her. Spike backed away from her car, pleased with himself. “Until next time, kitten.”

Then he got into his own car and drove away, leaving Buffy sitting in the almost empty parking lot, stunned and feeling suddenly giddy.

…………

The front door slammed and Joyce looked up from her place at the kitchen table, which was littered with bills and letters, the majority of which from annoying people who wouldn’t give up or take no for an answer. She sighed and rubbed her temple, trying to make the headache go away.

Buffy bounded into the kitchen, dropped her backpack by the counter and immediately set to work on raiding the refrigerator.

“How was school, honey?” Joyce asked, wearily. The only sounds from the other end of the kitchen was food items being moved around. Finally, Buffy surfaced with a carton of milk and leftover spaghetti in both hands. Grinning, she kicked the refrigerator door closed and sauntered over to the microwave.

Joyce leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. Okay…, “Good day, I take it?”

“Better than good,” Buffy sang, stuffing the spaghetti into the microwave. Joyce smiled. It wasn’t every day that Buffy had a good day in school.

“That’s great, dear -- did I just see you put something plastic in that microwave!” she exclaimed.

“Oops!” Buffy gave her a apologetic smile and opened the microwave door before it started heating. She took off the plastic wrap and stuffed the bowl back in.

“That’s better,” Joyce breathed out. She smiled again, “So tell me about your day.”

Buffy shrugged as she waited for her food to heat up. “You know,… same old, same old,” she said, casually.

“No, I don’t know,” her mother narrowed her eyes a little, “Since this is a different school…”

“Well, there were teachers, pencils, books, and boys,” Buffy grinned as her mom widened her eyes.

“Boys!” Her voice was suddenly stern, and she sighed sadly. “Oh, Buffy… we did have this talk, didn’t we?”

“Yes, we did,” she replied, happily. “No sex, no talking, no seeing, no boys. Oh, mom, can I go to the Bronze tonight?”

The microwave beeped.

“The Bronze?” Joyce asked, confused. “What is a bronze, exactly?”

“Just a little club – no alcohol, I promise,” Buffy said, silently crossing two fingers behind her back.

“Will there be boys at this club?”

Buffy gave her an exasperated look. “No, mom. It’s a nun club.”

Joyce sighed and shook her head. “Okay, fine… I swear you’re growing up too fast. One moment, you’re still a little baby in little diapers and the next moment, you’re going to all sorts of clubs…”

Buffy grabbed her food and swept over to her mother, landing a little kiss to her cheeks. “Thanks, mom. You’re the best!”

Then, she flew out of the kitchen and up to her room.

“You better not get any sauce on the rug!” Joyce frowned. Then went back to the bills.

…………

Half an hour later, the doorbell rang. Cursing it under her breath, Joyce got up to her feet and went to open the front door.

The second it was opened, a brunette girl with sunglasses propped on her head pushed herself inside, both arms full with shopping bags. Flustered, Joyce opened her mouth to protest, but another girl, a pale, dark-haired one, also pushed herself in, carrying a large, makeup bag.

“Hi, Buffy’s mom!” The first brunette said, cheerily.

“Wait - Hello, who are you?” Joyce was more than confused.

“Cordelia and Drusilla. We’re here to get Buffy ready, which way to her room?”

…………

“No.” She said, firmly, shaking her head.

“Yes.”

“Absolutely not.”

“That’s not an option,” Cordelia glared at a defiant Buffy, crossing her arms and sitting Indian-style on the bed.

“Drusilla..?” Buffy desperately turned to the thin, pale-faced girl for help. Drusilla had an eyeshadow brush in her hand and had it raised halfway in the air as she turned to see what Cordelia was holding up.

“I’m going with Cordelia,” she said, then turned back to her job at hand, forcing Buffy to keep her head still and her eyes closed as she did her makeup.

“But – I’ll look like a tramp!”

“Oh, stop being so Victorian era,” Cordelia rolled her eyes. “It’s flattering and you’ll look great.”

“I’ll look naked…”

“And what’s wrong with that?” she raised an eyebrow and put a hand on her hip. “I think it’s gorgeous and you’re going to wear it no matter what.”

Buffy sighed, losing the battle, then opened her eyes – to Drusilla’s dismay – to eye the scrap of cloth in Cordelia’s hand.

To tell the truth, it was beautiful. The emerald green dress was a halter and went low at the back and high at the hem, but it’s shimmer was appealing and it’s cut was flattering. Plus, it cost nearly two hundred dollars.

“Can’t you hold still for one second?” Drusilla growled and forced Buffy’s eyes closed again.

Chapter Six

Spike made his way through the open, marbled floor hallway, not even bothering to stop and glance at the expensive Monets and Rembrandts that littered the pearly white walls. This house wasn’t made for living in, he thought to himself as he passed a glass case with some ancient Egyptian trinket lying on a plush maroon pillow. The so-called house was more like a small museum, built to entertain guests and hold cocktail parties rather than hang out and feel comfortable in. As it was, Spike looked incredibly out of place among the beautifully adorn walls and the well cared for flooring.

“And where do you think you’re going, William?” an upper-classed British accent voice clipped out from behind him as Spike descended down the wide, winding stairway. Spike rolled his eyes at the use of his given name.

“Out,” he said, not bothering to turn around, “… and it’s Spike.”

“I refuse to call you – uh, William, are you aware that your trousers are in need of mending?” Rupert Giles, the Pratt’s butler for almost two generations, squinted his eyes and pushed his glasses up his nose, studying the frayed hem of the jeans Spike was wearing.

“Yeah,” Spike said, nonchalantly. “Don’t worry ‘bout them, Rupes.”

“And for God’s sake, young man, pull them up! I really do not know what has gotten into the children of this generation. No sense of what is proper at all!” he chided him until Spike finally turned to face him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing something, Old Maid?” Spike glared, irritated, “Wipe some wine glasses? Dust some furniture off? I know my father didn’t hire you to stare at my backside all day…”

“What… H- I’m not a maid, you arrogant, overbearing - !” Giles sputtered, “I’ll have you know that I have been around since before you were even conceived and – “

“Yeah, yeah, tell someone who cares,” Spike dismissed with a wave of an arm and descended down the rest of the stairs.

“Your father will hear of this behavior!” Giles called after him, “Disrespect is looked down upon in this – “

The front door slammed and Giles sighed, shaking his head.

“Teenagers,” he muttered to himself.

…………

Buffy glued herself to Cordelia’s side as they entered the crowded club. LA had been useless to her - never had she been in a place like this before, contrary to anyone’s belief. The lights were dimmed to a hazy orange and the sweat from the dancing bodies permeated the air like a thick blanket. The wailing from the stage filled the entire room and the pounding of the drums and the stamping of the feet vibrated the floor. She was terrified.

Cordelia threw her an annoyed look as Buffy tightened her grip on her forearm. “You’re gonna leave bruises,” she glared. Buffy looked a little sheepish and loosened her grip… marginally.

“First day back from school,” Drusilla observed, “it’s not usually this crowded.”

“C’mon, I see a table,” Cordelia pried Buffy’s fingers off and led them to a tiny booth.

Buffy tugged at the hem of her dress, willing it to magically grow longer as she sat down. No such luck. All it earned her was an eye-roll from Cordy and a slap on the arm.

After they were situated, Buffy took a moment to look around at the people surrounding them. Most of the people on the dance floor were teenagers she recognized at school and a few college-guys hung around the back walls gazing hungrily at the jumping, scantily-clad girls.

Xander and Anya magically materialized out of nowhere and appeared in front of them with drinks in their hands.

“Sweet nectar for the beautiful ladies,” Xander grinned and bowed, sliding the drinks onto the table and pulled up a chair. When Anya glared at him, he pulled her onto his lap and whispered something in her ear that made her eyes light up.

“Now?” she asked, smiling excitedly.

“No… later, honey,” he said and she resorted to pouting again.

“Xander Harris, the last time you – “ and he clamped a hand down over her mouth. Buffy’s cheeks reddened and he threw her an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, Anya,” Cordelia gave the couple a pointed look, “no need to advertise how Xander can’t satisfy you, we all know from first-hand experience. And when I say we all, I mean me.”

Anya shut her mouth and stared daggers into Cordelia. Cordelia shrugged nonchalantly and took a sip of her drink, promptly gagging and spitting it back into the cup, “What in the world is this?” she looked down at her drink with disgust and pushed it away from her.

Xander shrugged, “Not sure, exactly. It was the cheapest thing they’ve got on the list, though. Hey, stop with the looks! Does it look like my last name’s ‘Pratt’? Pratt & Co. just fired my dad last week, if you guys must know. They’re just a bunch of evil, stupid – “

“What’s that, Harris?” an unmistakably British accent drifted their way and Xander widened his eyes.

“- generous, kind-hearted citizens out doing the good work of the U. S. of A…” he finished, turning around to give Spike a wide grin.

“That’s what I thought,” Spike slapped his back and slid into the booth, forcing a girl he didn’t recognize to awkwardly shift closer to the wall.

Spike glanced around the table looking for Buffy and frowned when he didn’t see her. To his left was Xander with Anya wiggling on his lap,… then across from him was Cordelia acting all high and mighty as usual with Drusilla sitting next to her, looking a bit bored. Then, there was that gorgeous girl that he had forced to move over. He looked at her curiously, but her sleek brunette waves fell over part of her face and she didn’t look his way.

Cordelia and Drusilla were not-so-subtly nodding between him and the girl, and Spike couldn’t help but wonder …

“Where’s Buffy?” he asked the group and they all looked to his right. The girl looked up, a little surprised.

“What?” she asked, turning to face him and he had to smother down a gasp. This was Buffy. Something inside him stopped working and he felt a flip-flop in his stomach, which made him look down at it curiously. Bloody hell…, he nearly groaned out loud. Spike Pratt did not get butterflies. That was a girl thing.

“You, uh..,” he fought to gain control of himself and forced a smile on his face before finally relaxing. “You look good.”

She blushed prettily and hid her face again. “Thanks,” her voice was practically tinged with uncertainty.

The whole table was silent during the short exchange and everybody leaned in closer, trying to catch what was going on. When it became obvious that neither of the two in question were going to say anything else, Cordelia took the initiative and struck up a new topic.

“Okay, so I totally don’t know whether I want to wear that Versace dress my uncle bought me for homecoming or that Dolce and Gabanna that’s been lying in my closet for like, forever,” she said, loudly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Anya and Drusilla perked up as they got into the topic of homecoming dresses, makeup, plans, … two months in advance.

Buffy idly listened to them chat animatedly about what restaurant they wanted to go to and what hair-dresser was the best to go to for an up-do. She was more interested trying to ignore the guy that was practically burning holes in her head with his blatant stare. Spike’s leg shifted slightly, brushing against hers and she felt a tiny shiver run up her body. He leaned a little closer to her and she got a whiff of the cologne he was wearing; it did nothing to force down this infinitesimal attraction she felt building up towards him.

Spike, on the other hand, was growing more excited by the moment, seemingly indulging in her discomfort. This is too easy,… he smirked to himself, allowing his hand to slide across the seat slowly and brush against her thigh. Buffy nearly jumped up at the ‘accidental’ touch and she slid over an inch closer to the comfort of the wall.

He bent his head down to her ear. “You okay, love?” he whispered and goosebumps spread across her arms when she felt the warmth of his breath blow gently over her ear.

“Yeah,” she muttered, not looking at him. Spike raised an eyebrow.

“That’s good,” he paused, then added, “because you seem a bit… flustered.” At the last word, he inched closer to her and brought his arm slowly around the seat of her booth, letting his fingers graze gently across her back.

Her eyes widened and she finally turned to look at him, uneasily. She turned her head to see the hand that was resting casually by her lap on her other side and felt the arm that was now slung around her body.

Spike continued to stare at her, amused, as she tried to get comfortable in this position. She crossed, uncrossed, and recrossed her legs several times, fiddled with her hands, her drink, and basically did everything short of getting up and leaving to try and calm her nerves.

Cordelia glanced over at the two of them across the table and raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at the awkward scene displayed before her. She contemplated to herself whether she should allow this to go on further or put an end to it or… speed things up. Unsure, she turned to look at Drusilla, but found her staring off somewhere in the middle of the dance floor with blank eyes.

Furrowing her brow, she turned her head in the direction of her friend’s stare and saw Angel, dancing sensually with a blonde girl from another school. Hmm… what’s her name?, Cordelia racked her brain for an answer, Delia? Dory… Dena… Darlene?. She gave up and shook her head, making a decision.

“Come on, Drusilla,” she promptly got to her feet and pulled at Drusilla’s arm. The girl snapped her head around to look up at Cordelia. “Let’s dance.”

Drusilla looked at Buffy, who was turning red and trying to get as far from Spike as possible, and then looked at Spike, who was unashamedly trying to hit on her. Smiling, she shrugged and slid across the seats until she was standing, too.

“Sounds good,” she smiled sweetly at Anya and Xander, who followed them to the center of the dance floor.

Casting another glance at Angel, Drusilla forced down the sick feeling that was climbing up her throat. His eyes were closed and he didn’t get to see the saddened look on her face as she forced her gaze away from him.

…………

Buffy looked up just as the rest of the group were getting up and dancing.

“Wh- where are – “ she started, but by then, they were far out of earshot and she slumped back in her seat, feeling at a loss of what to do. Until she felt the arm that was lying between her back and the red material of the booth. She sat up again.

“Well, Summers,” Spike grinned, “looks like it’s just you and me.”

“Right,” she gulped and grabbed at her drink, taking as much down as possible, accidentally sloshing half of it over herself and choking.

Spike was immediately up and reaching for some napkins as soon as he heard her coughing. He grabbed a handful and started wiping at her face, her neck, her chest…

“Hey,” Buffy sputtered, indignantly, pushing his hand away from her.

“Wha- “ Spike looked confused and realization dawned on him, “Oh. Right. Sorry about that.” He handed her the napkins and she wiped herself down. He hadn’t really meant to feel her up, which was rather surprising. There was a time in the near past where he had spilt water on a girl on purpose so he could do just that, and here was the girl that he was trying to get in his pants, and touching her was the last thing on his mind. Well, not the last thing, but…

Spike stared at a tiny drop running down her neck and down the crevice between her breasts, disappearing under her dress and he shifted around, unsuccessfully trying to look away.

“Do you want to dance?” he blurted out without thinking. She stopped wiping half-way and stared at him.

“I’m not really good,” she said, quietly, going back to her wiping. He stopped her movements and took the wad of napkins away from her, replacing them with his hand.

“I’ll teach you,” he smiled, getting up and pulling her along with him. Buffy looked into his hopeful eyes and slowly nodded.

“Okay.”

…………

The band struck up a slow song almost immediately as Spike led Buffy towards the center of the dance floor. He looked up at the stage and thought he caught a wink from Oz, sitting behind the drums. He’d have to remember to thank him later…

He took one of Buffy’s arms in his hands and placed them around his neck before placing both his hands on the small of her back and pulling her closer to him.

“Just follow my lead, pet,” he said in her ear and felt her nod against him. Her hands clenched and unclenched and he smiled as she began to unconsciously play with the collar of his shirt.

This isn’t too bad, Buffy thought as she began to relax and sway to the music. His arms felt good around her and he smelled so nice. His hair tickled her hands and in a bold movement, she ran her hands through it slightly, enjoying the feel of the short hairs between her fingers.

Spike tightened his hold on her until their bodies were lightly pressing against each other and her head was lying against his shoulder. He turned his head and pressed his cheek against her hair, taking a deep breath and enjoying the scent of strawberries and vanilla.

Somebody whistled and he looked up to see Devon grinning at him from across the dance floor and giving him the thumbs up sign. He glared at him and looked away. At this particular moment, he wasn’t thinking about the bet. He was just enjoying the feel of her warm body in his arms.

…………

Drusilla rolled her eyes when she felt Devon’s hands travel down a little too far down her back.

“Cut it out,” she snapped at him and ground into his feet with her heel, causing him to wince and bring his hands up where they belonged.

“God, woman,” he grumbled and glared at her. Then he grinned as he turned to set his gaze on Spike and Buffy. “Aren’t they something?”

“Who?”

“Spike and the new girl, Bunny,” he smirked. Drusilla saw the couple dancing together. They weren’t feeling each other up like half of the people dancing around them, but their eyes were closed and their heads were touching, making them seem more intimate than the people who were rubbing against their partners.

“Buffy,” she corrected, smiling slightly. “They’re nice. They fit well.”

Devon snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, they’ll be fitting well within two – “

“Hey, man,” a deep voice cut him off and a heavy hand laid down none too gently on his arm. Devon turned his head to see Angel standing next to them, trying not to glare.

“What’s up?” Devon asked.

“Mind if I cut in?”

Angel’s voice was firm and was more of a demand than a question and Devon knew one thing – you didn’t mess with Angel when he had ‘that’ voice.

“Whatever, dude,” he shrugged and backed away from Drusilla. Then went to find another girl, preferably one who let him run his hands all over her.

Drusilla sighed and shook her head when Angel took a step towards her. He stopped and stared at her.

“Wait, you let him touch you and you won’t dance with me?” he accused, crossing his arms across his chest. Drusilla just laughed and whirled around, turning her back on him, not bothering to respond.

Angel wouldn’t let her go and caught her arm before she could run off. “What’s this about, Dru?” he demanded.

“Why don’t you ask Darla?” she shook her arm free and took off for the lady’s room.

Chapter Seven

The song ended too quickly, and with it, ended the comfortable familiarity between their bodies. As the band picked up a catchy, fast-paced rhythm, Buffy began to feel just a little awkward situated in Spike’s arms, somewhat like an out of place appendage – burdensome, unwanted, and weird.

She took a step back and Spike dropped his arms to his side. He was giving her such a strange look and quite frankly, it was unsettling. Her instincts kicked in instantly, telling her Get out of here, Buffy… before you make a fool out of yourself.

“I, um, need to use the – you know,” and without finishing her thought, she whirled on her heel and headed towards where she thought the restrooms should be, leaving Spike staring after her from the middle of the dance floor.

As she shoved her way between bouncing bodies, she received a few dirty looks from the girls and a few appraising looks from the guys. The sweat and heat emulating from their bodies was overwhelming her and her head felt lighter by the moment.

You’d think I just ran a marathon, she thought to herself, feeling her heart pounding it’s way through her chest. But despite the loud music and the gritty reality of the club, she felt like she was floating. It all seemed so surreal, especially the way Spike danced with her. It was almost as if he … really liked her.

She reached the door with the “Women’s Room” sign flashing above it and stumbled in, tripping over her new shoes. High heels were definitely not working for her.

…………

Spike scratched his head, messing his hair up a little bit – something he knew girls loved, as he tried to figure out the complex girl who had just made a run for it. She had distanced herself from him as if he were a disease she was afraid to catch. Complex might not be the word, he sighed to himself. More like… weird. Or insecure. Or really, really hot.

The second her body disappeared in the crowd, he let out a slow breath and looked away, surveying the crowd for familiar faces and, he wasn’t going to lie, good-looking faces that came with good-looking bodies. He spotted Cordelia dancing with a few girls he recognized from school and, judging by the sly smile on Devon’s face, he was on the hunt, Xander and Anya were back at the booth, lip-locked and obviously happy to have the table to themselves.

Suddenly, he felt a tap on his arm and before he knew it, he was face to face with a grinning Harmony.

“Hey, Spikey,” she cooed, showing him her pearly whites. “Dance with me?”

Before he could answer her, she was pressed up against him, grinding herself into him and slithering up and down his body. Which was nice.

For a moment, something in him twang and he remembered the green eyes that made him almost lose himself, but he quickly shook the feeling away and placed his hands on Harmony’s hips. Buffy was cute. Beautiful, even. But she was a bet and nothing else. As he danced with Harmony, he calculated the days until he and Buffy would be in bed, doing the wild thing.

While he breathed in the strong scent of perfume in Harmony’s hair, he thought about the intimacy between him and Buffy when they were slow-dancing to Oz’s song. As soon as the thought entered his mind, he discarded it.

…………

As soon as Buffy emerged from the stall, she noticed Drusilla, standing at the far end of the sinks, staring at herself in the mirror with a blank expression on her face. For a moment, she just stood there and took in the tired, sad slouch of her friend’s back and the pain that was visible on her shoulders. Then, she timidly walked towards the pale, dark-haired girl.

She came up next to Drusilla and their eyes met in the mirror. Buffy offered a small smile and Drusilla looked away.

“Are you okay?” Buffy wasn’t exactly sure what to say in a situation like this. The girl was clearly not okay. Drusilla gave her a wry laugh and shook her head.

“Do you think I should go blonde?” She asked out of the blue. Buffy widened her eyes in surprise.

“What??”

Drusilla turned to face her. “Go blonde. That’s what all the guys seem to like, isn’t it? Blonde girls?”

“It is?” Buffy glanced at her reflection in the mirror and fingered her own brown hair. It always seemed a little bland to her, but still. It was her hair… her Buffy-hair. And Drusilla’s hair was… more than just Drusilla-hair. It was almost black and completely gorgeous. “I don’t think you should dye your hair.”

“Why not? It’d be fun,” Drusilla smiled. Buffy looked back at her and noticed that her expression had changed to a pleasant one. Wow. She hid her pain well.

“I think it’d be less fun when you’re through and realized you ruined your best feature,” Buffy decided to be blunt. Drusilla immediately darkened and sighed.

“Yeah,” she grumbled, “I know you’re right. It’s just… Darla’s hair is blonde.”

“Darla…”

“You don’t know her.”

“Oh.” There was a little silence, which Buffy broke by asking, “So… who is she?”

“Just a slut and a crack-whore who should stuff a shovel up her ass and die.”

“Oh. Uh, okay.”

Drusilla stared at Buffy for a moment, then broke out laughing, infectiously making Buffy laugh as well. A few other girls turned their heads for a few seconds, then ignored them. It was one of those laughs when nothing was funny, but everything was funny.

“You’re not that bad, girl,” Drusilla wrapped an arm around Buffy’s shoulder. “Let’s go. We’re two gorgeous bitches and we can get anyone we want. Starting with the dance floor.”

They strode out of the bathroom confidently, laughing and joking with each other.

The second they were out, Buffy noticed Spike. Spike doing some seriously provocative dancing with a well-stacked blonde girl.

“Uh, Dru…?” She said slowly, keeping her eyes on the two of them. Drusilla twisted her neck around to see what she was looking at. “You know what you said about blonde hair and how guys like it?”

“We’ll go to Walmart tomorrow and bye nine dollar hair dye. Your bathroom or mine?”

“Yours.”





/////////////// Sidenote \\\\\\\\

Please don't hate me. I didn't really want to idolize Spike and make him into the perfect gentleman,... at least not YET.

Remember in this story, he's a jerk... and most importantly, he's a teenage GUY. He doesn't have any real feelings for Buffy YET, besides the fact that he's attracted to her and wants to score with her. So, of course, he feels no obligation to "stay faithful" to her. And most single guys in situations like him would dance with whoever offered themselves up.

The Harmony-drama really isn't drama at all. Just a little road-bump.

Chapter Eight


"AHHH!" Buffy shrieked when she opened her eyes and saw her reflection in the mirror. Drusilla jumped back, surprised.

"What!" She asked, staring, "It's not that bad! Really, it's just… a little streaky, but it's not bad at all!"

"My hair!" Buffy pulled at the damp locks, "It's… it's orange!"

"Not really," Drusilla protested, putting her hands on her hips. "It's more like… a, uh, burnt sienna with an orange tint? And anyways! It's not even dry, yet. I bet it'll look fabulous when it's dry."

"I should've let Cordy do it," the streaky-orange-tinged-burnt-sienna-haired girl looked miserable. Drusilla glared at her through the mirror.

"I'll have you know there's absolutely nothing wrong with your hair. You just have to wait for it to dry. And if Cordelia did it, you'd be lucky if you had any hair left at all!"

After a few more minutes of Buffy whining and Drusilla rolling her eyes, Buffy pointed at Drusilla's dark hair. "You're turn," she said, brightening at the prospect of her so-called hair dresser getting a taste of her own treatment.

"Uh," Drusilla faltered at this, "Blonde looks much better with your skin tone. If I went blonde, I'd look … odd."

"Hey! You said you'd - "

"I said no such thing. I just expressed an idea. I didn't say I'd go through with it."

She finished cleaning up with a smug smile and ignored the grumbling and complaining coming from Buffy's mouth.

………
………

"It's not so bad," Buffy thought out loud to herself, checking out the color of her hair in the mirror of the car's sun-visor. True to Drusilla's word, it had lightened to a nice, warm shade of gold once the hair was dry. She still wasn't used to it and fingered a strand, thoughtfully. It made her feel… different.

Blondes have more fun… so they said. She shook out her straightened hair and brushed her bangs to the side before she smiled at herself in the mirror one more time, snapped the cover shut, and stepped out of the car.

She walked across the parking lot with as much confidence as she could muster, smiling at whoever happened to look her way.

… Until she was halfway to the school doors and realized she had left her backpack in the trunk of her car. Shit! she thought as she did a one eighty and sprinted back to get it.

Okay… maybe not so fun. At least, not fun so far.

………
………


The second Buffy burst into the classroom, cheeks flushed red and backpack swinging, Spike felt his jaw go slack and drop. Well, what do you know?, Spike smirked, leaning back in his seat to get a better view of the girl giving Mr. Travers her tardy card. Little miss Buffy's a little miss Blondie.

Then he frowned, remembering how he had been left looking for Buffy the other night at the Bronze, only to be told by Cordelia that the girl had already left with Drusilla. Then, something peculiar had happened. He had actually started to feel a little - and just a little, mind you - … disappointed. And not just in the 'bloody hell, now I can't hook up with her' way, either. He had truly hoped to spend more time with her and had really looked forward to just, uh, talking to her. And when he found out that she had upped and left, his good mood had been killed, so he pushed off Harmony and any other girl that flung themselves his way and headed back home.

It hadn't occurred to him until he was getting ready to call it a night and crawl into bed that the entire reason he was with Buffy was because of that bet. Thinking about the bet had calmed him marginally, because, obviously, the sinking feeling he had in his gut when she had disappeared only proved that Buffy would be one hard bird to get in bed. Before he had drifted off, a voice in the back of his head laughed at him and sang Or maybe, the sinking feeling might be because the Big Bad Spike's developing feelings, eh?

He pushed the thoughts aside as Buffy nervously made her way to the seat in front of him. Wow, she was looking incredibly beautif-- no, hot, the manly part of his brain protested-- today.

"Hello, Goldilocks," he drawled out, leaning forward when she sat down. She spared him a glance before reaching into her bag to pull out her notebook.

"Spike," she returned, blushing at the nickname. Part of her was wondering if he liked her hair and another part of her chided her for caring. It doesn't matter if he likes it or not! It doesn't!

Buffy sat back in her chair, getting ready to pay attention. Too bad the bleached-blonde moron behind her felt a need to twirl her hair around his finger.

"You left without saying goodbye last night," his voice was light but she thought she heard a trace of hurt. Then again, maybe it was part of her imagination.

She twisted in her seat so she sat sideways at her desk, looking up at the front of the class and answering him at the same time. "Well, I would've," she said, keeping her voice low, "But you were a little busy."

The sight of him dancing up close and personal with the chesty blonde at the Bronze burned in her mind and almost made her want to cringe, but she fought the urge. Why did she want to cringe? Was it because she felt something for him? A little shiver ran up her spine.

His face scrunched up, confused, until he remembered Harmony… Oh… Bloody hell.

Spike smirked, "Jealous, love?"

"What!? Of course not," she sputtered, whirling around to face his smug, satisfied face. His blue eyes locked with her and the twinkle in them made her want to melt.

"You sure? You look a bit… flustered," he tilted his head to the side and continued playing with her hair.

"I'm not jealous," she affirmed, setting her jaw. "Why would I be jealous? I don't care who you dance with. You can - you can dance with whoever you want!" Dance with anybody! Any bottle-blonde, puffy haired, big breasted floozy that walks your way! Do whatever! I care not! I am most definitely, absolutely, positively not jealous.

He traced his finger from her hair to her neck and followed the curve of her shoulder down to her arm, then back up again. His touch sent tingles all over her body and she tensed to keep from shuddering.

"Okay, then," Spike shrugged, then grinned, "But just for the record. Harmony's got nothing on you."

Wait, what?

"Huh?" Buffy crinkled her brow, "What do you mean - "

"Ms. Summers!" a sharp, annoyed voice cut her of mid-sentence. Buffy spun around to face the front to see a put off Mr. Travers staring at her with his hand clutching a piece of chalk poised at the board as if he was in the middle of writing something, which he most likely was. He looked at her over the tops of his glasses and glared, "Do you have something you want to share with the class? Something related to Calculus, perhaps?"

"Uh, no sir," her face turned red.

"No more talking. Next time, it's a referral," Mr. Travers warned before turning back to the board.

Spike didn't bother to hide his soft chuckling. He ripped a sheet of paper from his notebook and scrawled a note on it before folding it up and passing it to Buffy over her shoulder.

She took the note and opened it under her desk.

You, me, Friday night… possibilities?

Buffy stared at it, wondering what he meant. What possibilities? She glanced up to make sure the teacher wasn't watching before scribbling down: Possibilities? Such as… and slipping it onto Spike's desk.

When she felt his hand on her shoulder again, she reached up to grab the folded note, only to have her hand grasped by Spike's larger one. She froze in her seat as Spike squeezed her hand tightly before releasing it along with it's note.

I want you…

.


.


.


.


… to go out with me.

Buffy gulped.

………
………

"So, Summers," Spike stepped up to her as she packed up her stuff. The bell had just rung and all the students were hurrying out of class, shoving and pushing each other aside. "How about it?"

"How about what?" She slung her backpack over her shoulder and started walking down the aisle to leave the classroom.

"Oh, come off it," he rolled his eyes, walking in step with her, "You know what I'm talking about."

"Oh… that."

"Yeah, that," Spike grabbed her lightly by the elbow, slowing her down. Buffy bit her lip and looked away. She was nervous… and embarrassed. Her experience with dates were… wait, she didn't have any experience with dates. And part of her was still on the edge, not sure whether she could trust him, not sure if he actually wanted to date her, not sure if he was just messing around…

"Well, I'm not - "

Spike's face fell marginally and he interrupted her, grumbling, "Would it really be so bad? Going on one date with me? It could be… a friend thing." Bloody hell. He was half a step away from begging…

She paused and turned to look up at his face. There was something… hopeful, something different. When he had asked her out the day before, she'd seen the cockiness, arrogance, and suaveness coming off of him in waves and right now, there was just hope. Maybe it would be okay to say 'yes.' …

"Okay," she finally nodded and held her breath. She almost expected him to start laughing at her and mocking her like the boy had done such a long time ago… But his eyes lit up and he grinned.

"You mean it?"

Before she could reply, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders for a quick hug and started walking backwards to his next class.

"You won't regret it, Goldilocks," he winked, then added, "And I like the hair. It suits you."

With that, he sprinted down the hall… just as the two minute bell rang. Crap… Buffy winced and started to her next class two minutes to go halfway across the school. Great.

…………

Spike couldn't keep the giddy grin off his face as he hurried to his next period class. She said 'Yes'! She bloody said 'Yes'! A hand stopped him and he turned to see Devon standing behind him, not bothering to cover up his laughing.

"So you got her to go out with you?" The boy shook his head, amused, "You've got more game than I thought, man."

Spike shook his hand off his arm and stared, suddenly remembering the bet. For some reason, it had slipped his mind the moment she had slid into the seat in front of him. And for some reason, it made him feel somewhat… guilty…

His friend kept smiling and he tried to shake off the uneasy feeling that was starting to cluster in his stomach.

"Did you ever doubt it, mate?" Spike smirked and tried to stand straighter. Devon slapped his back and they parted ways.

…………
A/N: Hopefully, the next update'll be up within the week. We'll see. =)