Buffy ran, head down, through the hallways of Sunnydale High. She was pissed off. Not only had she seen her ex – not to mention the only guy she’d ever loved – making out with his old girlfriend, Darla, Angel hadn’t even noticed her. No, not only that, but the British guy her mom had apparently hired arrived later that day, her dad refused to come visit that weekend, her sister was mad at her for yelling at her that morning, and she had forgotten her English homework in her locker AGAIN.

Really, she couldn’t be blamed for yelling when a guy ran into her, knocking her down and scattering her stuff – including the notebook that held her recently procured English homework – all over the nearly empty hallway.

Okay, so maybe she could be blamed for kicking him in the shin after he’d gathered up her stuff and handed it to her, before storming away to class without a word, but she didn’t care. Buffy was ANGRY.

***

Spike was annoyed. He had just finished his coach flight from England to the US and so was suffering severe jet-lag, on top of being interrogated by the principal about ‘past misdemeanors’ for an hour. Now he had just escaped into the hallways of Sunnydale High, ready for English, the one subject he enjoyed – and what happened?

He ran into a girl and knocked her over, pissing her off, apparently. Spike had uncharacteristically apologized straight away, bending down and gathering up all the assorted papers, pens, and other school supplies he had knocked out of her arms and handing them back to her. He had been about to introduce himself – hell, maybe even flirt a little; from what he saw, she was hot, even if she did look like some cheer-queen – when she had screamed at him, calling him “another despicable guy that got his kicks out of making her life miserable” and warning him to “fuck off or wake up to find his nuts the property of a squirrel somewhere”.

He decided he liked her. Hot, spirited, unafraid, and capable of coming up with relatively inventive insults. Maybe he’d ask her out later. Getting up from where he’d fallen to the floor, he rubbed his aching shin – oh yeah, and the chit can fight, always a plus – and was about to leave when he caught sight of a purple notebook. Picking it up, he looked at the name in cursive on the front. Buffy Summers, English.

Odd name. Not that Spike could complain… He picked it up and consulted his map, walking off to find his class.

***

Buffy, who had calmed down a little by the time she rushed into class a few minutes late, was horrified to see the guy she’d yelled at – and kicked, remember? – walk into her classroom.

Her face turned bright red. He leaned in the doorway, talking to the teacher. “This the advanced English class then?”

Accent! Sexy voice with a British accent!

The teacher nodded. “Yes, and who might you be?”

The guy grinned, revealing perfect white teeth. “Spike Rayne. New student?”

Buffy’s brain, had it been working, would have connected those words, his accent, and the British student that her mom had hired on recommendation, but sadly, her brain had stopped working the moment Spike began to speak. Drooling female hormones took over as she stared at his clearly defined six-pack easily visible through the tight black t-shirt he wore. Over it, he wore a leather duster that rested easily on him, like a second skin. To add to the black-on-black look, he wore tight black jeans and black Doc Martins.

Contrasting with his clothes was his obviously bleached and spiked platinum blond hair. His left eyebrow had a split scar running through it, and he had an earring in one ear. He wore a chain with a closed lock around his neck, and various silver rings covered his fingers. He also wore bracelets on each wrist; one on the left and two on the right. As he shifted slightly, she noticed that his fingernails were painted black, though the nail-polish was chipped.

Overall: he was hot. And he was obviously not the kind of guy that Buffy Summers, Prom Queen, should like. So – she looked away, turning to talk to her best friend Cordelia. Unfortunately, Cordy was gaping at the punk hottie up in front of the class. Glancing around quickly, Buffy noticed that most of the girls in class were gazing at the so-called ‘Spike Rayne’ with expressions of lust, though some were at least subtle about it.

Sighing, she looked back up towards the front of the class, only to let her own subtly lustful look cross her eyes. He was quirking his eyebrow at Mr. Benson, waiting for permission to sit down. When he gave it, Spike sauntered down the aisles, ignoring the looks cast his way, and sat in a chair at the back of the room, leaning back and putting his boots up on the chair in front of him. Pulling a notebook from his pocket, he began to scribble on it. Buffy doubted that he was taking notes, but what was he doing instead?

She dismissed it as unimportant. He was probably just doodling naked girls or something.

***

Spike sat in the back of the class, ignoring the curious gazes of his classmates, and pulled out a drawing pad, flipping to a blank page. Using a black pen, he began to sketch out the classroom in front of him, roughly shading the people in so that the room looked much harsher and darker than it actually was.

He zoned out for a while, concentrating on his sketch – he was supposed to have something new ready for that lady at the art gallery later – and only began to pay attention to the class when people around the room shuffled with papers and were called up to the front of class, one by one.

He noticed the girl who had yelled at him furiously sorting through her things and making excuses, and a memory jiggled in his brain. Reaching into one of his duster’s many pockets, Spike pulled out a purple notebook and flipped through it. Sure enough, near the middle was an essay written in the same neat cursive as the name and subject on the cover.

He waited until they were all gone and the teacher was gathering up his things before taking him the essay and explaining how he’d come by it. He was thanked and sent away.

***

Spike grinned, striding into biology cockily. He was quickly assigned a lab partner; the guy was taller than he, with dark hair and eyes, and a nervous, goofy manner. After a moment of looking the boy up and down pointedly, Spike snorted, an action that caused a vapid-looking brunette to giggle.

Spike rounded on her, eyes dangerous. “You got somethin’ to say, Cheerleader?” the girl stopped laughing, surprised, and the teacher yelled at them all to sit in their seats.

Spike ignored his lab partner, striding to the last lab table in the room, leaving his new partner to follow. As soon as the teacher began to drone on about frogs, which they would apparently be dissecting soon, the dark next to him spoke to Spike quietly.

“Um, thanks with that whole, getting Cordy to back off a little thing. I’ll give you free membership to the “We Hate Cordelia Chase” club, if you want?” he joked.

Spike, who had been gazing longingly out the window, finally turned back to his lab partner, who was grinning at him foolishly. He frowned. “Name?”

“Huh?”

Spike rolled his eyes, chipping at his fingernail-polish. “Your name. What is it?”

The boy finally understood him and nodded eagerly. “Oh, I’m Xander Harris.”

“Right. Listen Whelp, I’m gonna spend the rest of this period sleeping. You know, jet-lag? You’ll be watching out for me, and if you let the prof know what’s going on, or leave me here after class or some shit, I’ll remove your spleen using those dissecting knives. Goodnight.”

And with that, Spike leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes. For a moment, he remained awake, but then he quickly slipped into sleep…

***

“Spike!” Xander hissed under his breath, tentatively poking the scary guy next to him. There was no response, and he reached out to poke again, but the next moment his finger was in a death-grip, bending painfully back against his hand.

Spike opened his eyes and blinked, taking in his surroundings. He groaned and let go of his new buddy’s hand. “Fuck.”

Straightening, he stuck his hands in his pockets and stood, glancing around the emptying room. “Thanks mate.”

Xander smiled forcedly and left, followed by Spike. The punk Brit headed out of the school straight towards a large black Desoto, but didn’t get in. Instead he paused, cocking his head as he listened to the conversation of two people at the next car.

“…scary!”

“Oh, calm down Xander. Aren’t you supposed to be the big macho brave guy or something? It sounds like he was just cranky.”

Spike chuckled, shaking his head. Cranky? He’d like this chit. Walking around his car, he winked at the two people at their own car. “Yes. That’s me. Cranky. How did you guess?” he said dryly.

The redhead wearing an impossibly fuzzy pink sweater smiled shyly at him. “Oh, because you were sleeping, from jet-lag, right? And when people are tired they get really cranky and they yell at people or are just mean and things like that and since you’re new as well, I’d bet you were also nervous about coming here so that made you act meaner,” she paused to take a breath and Spike finally spoke, lighting up a cigarette.

“She do this often?” he asked Xander, who just nodded warily as Willow went on.

“Oh, you shouldn’t smoke. It’s a really bad habit and it can give you cancer, which I’m sure you already know but I had to say it anyway, you know me… Only you don’t, so hi! I’m Willow Rosenburg.” She smiled and held out a hand, which Spike eyed warily.

“Er… no thanks, Red. Just remembered this; give it back to Barbie, alright?” he held out the purple notebook and Willow took it, before he turned and escaped to his car, blasting out the Sex Pistols in an effort to drown out the echoes of Red’s babbling.

He pulled out of the parking lot and drove away with one hand on the wheel, one holding his cigarette, swerving dangerously around students.

Willow sighed. “Did I make him run away?”

Xander nodded. “You were babbling again. Hey, I wonder who Barbie is?”

Willow looked down at the notebook in her hands and blinked in surprise. “Buffy Summers, English? Why does he have Buffy’s English notebook?”

Xander was too busy laughing to answer. “Barbie! That’s perfect, why didn’t we think of it before?” He doubled over and Willow swatted him with the notebook.

“Come on, let’s go already. And stop laughing, it’s mean.”

***

Spike screeched to a halt, having nearly collided with the white Jeep in front of him.

Opening his window and turning down the music, he yelled, “You okay?”

Much to his surprise, it was the girl whose notebook he’d had whose head popped out of the other car’s window. “Yes, I’m fine, now can you get your stupid fucking big car out of my way and stop driving into people!”

Spike was annoyed with her, and so didn’t answer, just closed his window and pulled away, noticing with amusement that the girl in the other car had driven over the curb as she attempted to get moving again.

Shaking his head, he tried to read his map again. Where is that stupid gallery?

***

Buffy sighed, walking into her mom’s art gallery slowly after her driving adventure. Hope Mom doesn’t notice those scratches on the car... “Mom? Where are you?” she yelled.

Her mother strode out from the back room, dusting off her hands. “Oh hello Buffy. Could you do me a favor and start unpacking those boxes in the back? Just set the pieces on the table, okay?”

Buffy heaved another sigh, but agreed and headed off to the back room. Only five minutes later, a large and slightly beaten-up black Desoto pulled up outside. Joyce Summers looked at her appointment book.

Sometime after 3 – Mr. Giles’ nephew, a British teenage artist, should come by.

Smiling, Joyce looked up at the door, hoping it was the artist. She frowned when she saw who was at the door.

Spike was vaguely hesitant about what he was about to do, but it was his uncle’s condition for living here, so he had to do it. And he’d always wanted to sell his art sometime…

Working up his courage, he flicked aside his cigarette stub and stepped in the door, looking around at the tasteful art. Nice.

His eyes finally found the desk across the room, and he strode over, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops. Swallowing, he spoke to the pretty middle-aged woman on the other side of it, “You Mrs. Summers?”

The lady looked at him skeptically and nodded. Great, this’ll be fun. Spike sighed. “’M Spike Rayne. From England…”

The lady spoke when he trailed off. “Spike? I was under the impression your name was William?”

Spike winced. “Well, yeah, technically… Fine, go ahead and call me William if it suits you.”

Mrs. Summers smiled, “And you can call me Joyce. Mrs. Summers makes me feel old. Now, you are an artist, correct?”

Spike nodded dutifully. “Yeah. I do sketches, paint, charcoal, watercolors… all of that. Most of my stuff’s on its way over, but I’ve got a few sketches with me if you need them. And I was supposed to work here too.”

Joyce nodded. “Do you mind if I see those sketches?” Spike pulled the sketchbook from his pocket and handed it to her silently.

Joyce Summers leafed through the sketchbook silently, her face betraying none of her excitement as she flipped through a series of amazing sketches, some only half-complete, but still wonderful works of art.

She stopped at the last sketch, done in black pen. It was dark and angry looking, showing a very different picture of a classroom than she was used to. Somehow, William had made the teacher up at the front seem inconsequential and strict at the same time. Studious children were hunched over their desks, only their backs and hair visible. Some guys fooled around, their motions seeming somehow unfulfilled and empty. Popular girls laughed, faces shaded so that they seemed harsh and cruel, rather than just enjoying life. Joyce’s face twisted slightly as she saw her daughter in that group of stylish girls.

Spike noticed the change of expressions and began to fidget. However, when Joyce looked up, she smiled at him. “These are very good William. I would love to see your other work."

He relaxed slightly, but still felt awkward, which Joyce noticed. “Right, on to your employment. I’ll want you to help me with the boxes and setting up of various pieces, as well as sales, etcetera.”

She began to lead him towards a back door, explaining the requirements of his jobs as they went.

***

Buffy huffed, dusting off her hands as she looked at the last box. It wouldn’t open, no matter how hard she pulled with the crowbar. She’d have to go ask her mom for help. Then maybe she could get out of this hellhole and go shopping!

She spun around, heading for the door, only to knock into somebody and almost fall over backwards. Yanking herself away, she gaped at the sight of Spike Rayne standing with her mother, smirking at her. “Hello, cutie,” he said with a grin.

“You!” Buffy screeched, stumbling back a step. “What are you doing here?”

Joyce, surprised by her daughter’s vehemence, spoke. “Buffy, I told you about him, remember? He’s the artist I’ve hired, and…”

Buffy interrupted her, speaking acidly to Spike. “Oh, so you think you’re an artist? You’re going to hang out at my mom’s place of work now, too? You’ve already stolen my homework, followed me to class, and nearly killed me in a car crash! God, are you stalking me?”

Spike crossed his arms, leaning back against a wall as he spoke angrily back to her, “Okay, if it would please you to think that everything is not about you, Princess, allow me to explain.” He held up one finger. “One: I gave the teacher your homework and some redhead in a very fuzzy sweater the notebook to give to you, so the first accusation is out.”

Up went the second finger. “Two: I have a fucking schedule, sweetheart, and trust me, I would not bother following you to a class, especially when I’ve only just met you. Also, did you notice that the teacher expected me? Hmm?” A third finger lifted. “And again, I was driving my car when you swerved in front of me. I stopped and asked if you were o-fucking-kay, and you yelled at me – again! Not to mention the fact that you managed to get stuck on the curb all on your own afterwards, which makes me think you aren’t the best driver.”

Spike stood up fully now, and glared at Buffy. “Also, I had no way of knowing that this was your mother’s gallery, as I didn’t know your name until this afternoon, and I had been supposed to meet Joyce since almost a month ago. I am a fucking good artist and I don’t appreciate you making light of one of the things that’s important to me just because you somehow got it into your head that through all three of our meetings in just one day, I was bloody stalking you! Get your head out of your ass, Barbie, and look around! I don’t fucking like self-obsessed, stuck-up girls like you, let alone stalk them. Especially when all they’ve done since I’ve met them is yell at me, kick me, and nearly run me over.”

Turning to Joyce, the angry teen sighed violently, and added, “Sorry, Mum. Not gonna say I’m not insultin’ your daughter, cause I am. But doesn’t mean I don’t like you or anything, and I’m not trying to offend you or some such shit. Listen, I’d better go. You can keep those sketches and I’ll come by later this week with some other stuff – and to work, o’ course.” He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head, muttering, “I need a fag…” as he stomped out of the room.

***

For a moment, Buffy and her mother stood very still, gaping at the empty space where Spike had stood, then Joyce exploded.

“Buffy Anne Summers! What on earth were you thinking, accusing such a nice young man like that! Are you honestly that self-absorbed? And what did he mean, kicking him, yelling at him, and what happened to my car? I thought that you were going to get a ride from Cordelia, seeing as you have no license and are a terrible driver?”

Buffy winced under her mother’s verbal onslaught. Finally, she spoke, cautiously. “I’m really sorry about the car. Cordy’s busy, so I took it this morning. Don’t worry, there’s just a scratch on the side.”

Joyce nodded. “And what about William? Where do you get off behaving like that to such a nice young man, who’s done nothing to you?”

Buffy flushed. “Did you hear what I said? He –”

“Explained everything quite fully, if a little angrily,” Joyce interrupted, “whereas you just spun off a string of senseless accusations. What do you have against him, Buffy? I certainly don’t know. I want you to apologize to him. He deserved none of that – and on his first day here, too.”

Buffy pouted. “But, Mo-om…”

Joyce glared at her. “No ‘Mom’ing me. It’s either that or a grounding.”

Buffy swallowed. “Fine. I’ll go apologize.”

***

Buffy sighed. She couldn’t believe she was here. Maybe I can just leave… But Mom will double-check. Sighing again, she rang the doorbell in front of her. After a few minutes, the door opened to reveal…

“Mr. Giles?”

The school librarian gave her a questioning look. “Ms. Summers, what brings you here?”

Buffy gulped, taking a step back. “Well, I was looking for somebody, but I don’t think…”

Giles smiled. “Oh, are you looking for my nephew?” When Buffy looked confused, he added, “He goes by the name Spike.”

Buffy nodded, “Oh, yeah! That’s who I was looking for…”

Giles stepped away from the door. “Do come in. Would you like some tea?”

Buffy shook her head and was about to answer when she noticed something.

Spike was descending the stairs, wearing only a pair of jeans hanging low on his hips. His torso was dripping, proving that he had just come out of the shower. He began to head towards what looked like a kitchen, not noticing either Buffy gawking at him or Giles sighing and cleaning his glasses.

Finally, Giles called out, “William, you have a visitor.”

Spike emerged from the kitchen holding a soda. He stopped short when he saw Buffy. Rolling his eyes, he turned away from her and began to climb the stairs again, waving at her over his shoulder. Buffy glanced at Giles, before following him.

He led her into his room, waiting until she walked in before closing the door loudly. “All right, what’s it now, Barbie?” he almost snarled.

Buffy gulped, trying to avert her eyes from his torso. He seemed to notice and snarled again, walking over to his dresser and pulling on a black t-shirt before leaning against the wall.

Buffy kept looking away from him, examining the room. One wall was entirely windows, with thick red drapes hung over them. The two walls on either side of the room were painted black, but the last one with the door was a slightly lighter shade, almost gray. The ceiling was black.

He had a large bed, with black blankets spread messily over the red sheets. Directly across from it was an open door that led into a walk-in closet. However, it didn’t look like a closet; apparently he kept all his clothes in the dresser, as the closet, instead of clothing, contained a mini-fridge, and a comfortable chair and TV.

There was another comfortable-looking chair near the window-wall, with a guitar leaning up against it. The last thing in the room that Buffy noticed was the easel and desk covered in papers.

Spike stepped into her line of sight, arms crossed.

“Can you answer a simple question, and tell me why you’re here, or are you just going to ogle” Oh god, he saw me looking at him! Buffy thought, but he continued, “my room? Spit it out and get out, Goldilocks.”

Buffy flushed bright red and turned away from his burning blue stare. “Um… I came to say sorry.”

Spike barked harsh laughter, invading her personal space even more. “Yeah, sure. An’ who made you do that?”

Buffy spun her head to glare up at him, before realizing he was right. “My-mom-did-but-I-really-am.”

Spike blinked. “Care to repeat that, Blondie?”

Buffy flushed further. “My mom sent me… but I really am sorry. I’ve had a totally bad day.”

His eyebrow quirked at her and he chuckled slightly. “As opposed to only partially.”

Buffy frowned at him, uncomprehending, and he shook his head, humor now dancing in his eyes. “Nothin’.”

For a moment they both stood there, but then Spike suddenly stepped back, lighting up a cigarette. Buffy cried out in disgust, “Eww, don’t do that in here!”

Spike laughed at her. “What? In my bedroom? We’re on my turf here, Princess. Only… I’d really rather you weren’t.” He paused, then added bluntly, “That means get the fuck out, by the way.”

Buffy blushed yet again and turned to the door, stumbling out without another word. Spike watched her silently as she went, suddenly leaping forward when she tripped and fell onto the desk, smashing something.

Spike rushed over to her and gripped her harshly by the shoulders, yanking her up and shoving her away from the desk before bending over to examine what was obviously a very broken locket.

She took an instinctive step back at the look in his eyes when he turned around. She racked her brain for anything to say, even as he advanced menacingly towards her. Finally, he was only a step away, hands clenched in tight fists as he tortured and killed her with his eyes.

Finally Buffy smiled weakly. “Whoopsies?” she asked perkily.

Spike grabbed Buffy roughly by the elbow and jerked her out of his room, before slamming the door shut. He grabbed her again when she tried to squirm away, yanking her down the hallway and to the stairs.

Buffy hurried to keep up with him so that she wouldn’t fall as he pulled her down the stairs, across the living room, past a stunned Giles, and shoved her at the door.

“Get. Out. Now.” Spike said, coldly and deliberately.

Buffy flushed bright red. “I–I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

She stopped, cut off by the murderous look in those cool blue eyes, and looked at the ground. “Sorry,” she said in a quiet voice, before turning and leaving, wincing at the sound of the front door slamming behind her.

***

Giles had been watching the exchange at the door, and came up behind Spike, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. Spike spun around, lashing out with a fist at the contact, and just barely managed to pull back before hitting his uncle.

Taking a step back, Spike ran a shaky hand through his hair. “Leave me alone, Rupes.”

Giles ignored both the stopped punch and his nephew’s statement, taking another step forward. “Tell me what just happened, William.”

Spike’s hands clenched into fists again, and he clenched his jaw, one muscle twitching wildly. “Nothing.”

Giles crossed his arms. “Oh, certainly. That’s why you just forcibly threw that girl out of here and nearly broke my nose. Nothing at all.”

Spike growled, tensing up, but suddenly seemed to wilt, losing all energy as he leaned back against the door, closing his eyes, without answering. Giles looked at him for a minute, and then sighed, turning around and heading into the kitchen. “I think a cup of tea is what we need.”

Spike sat down in the living room, waiting until his uncle returned before looking up.

“Here.” Giles handed Spike a cup of tea, which he took, sipping it slowly. Giles sat down with his own tea and eyed his nephew. “Now, tell me…”

Spike interrupted him. “She broke Mum’s locket.”

Giles’ eyes widened in understanding and sympathy, and he nodded, not saying anything else as the two finished their tea.

***

The rest of the afternoon only got worse for Spike. Leaving the living room after he finished his tea without a word, he had headed up to his room and begun to draw, but soon stopped, realizing that the sort of mood he was in called for a more active exercise of his anger.

Heading down the stairs, he checked the phone book until he found what he was looking for. Sunnydale’s only gym, small and independently owned.

He drove the Desoto there at a speed that was very definitely above the speed limits, and could quite probably be classified as reckless, but he didn’t care. Walking into the gym, he obtained a membership and headed into the only room.

It was large, probably converted from a warehouse, but it was all in one place. In one area there was weight equipment, in another there was various endurance equipment, but the part of the room that caught Spike’s eye was the sparring area.

There was a large mat set up, with a line of tape marking out a ‘do not enter’ area around it. Next to the mat was a second one, with various things such as punching bags.

Spike walked over to the second mat, stripping off his duster and black t-shirt and setting them on a bench. Bending down, he unlaced and pulled off his boots as well, finally just standing barefoot in his jeans.

Setting his clothes to the side, and ignoring the few people already in the gym, who had all stopped to look at him, he stretched and cracked his neck, flexing his fingers, before stepping forward and punching the bag. One punch turned into two, and soon he had developed a mind-numbing rhythm, occasionally broken by a flurry of very hard punches and kicks that he subjected the bag to.

Faith arrived at the gym later than usual, pissed off, and ready to beat the shit out of the punching bag. So when she strode into the main area and saw that it was being used, she got angry, storming over to beat the shit out of the guy instead.

However, when she got close enough to observe the play of muscles on that smooth back, the tight ass encased in skin-hugging jeans, and the obviously practiced way the guy hit the bag, her anger faded. Maybe, she could do something else instead…

“Hey, you!” Faith called, loud enough to make him take notice, but not loud enough to bother the few other people doing weights on the other side of the room.

His punches slowed, then stopped. He waited for the bag to stop moving before leisurely turning around. Faith stared at him. Whoa, I am definitely going for option #2: get him in my bed as fast as possible!

He spoke, panting slightly, “Yeah? What is it?”

“Nice accent.” He cocked an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“Thanks. Who are you and what do you want?”

Faith smiled. Time to find out. “I think I should be asking you that.” He smirked in response.

“And why’s that?”

Faith grinned, not answering. “I’m Faith Summers. You?”

“Spike Rayne.”

Faith’s eyes widened at the admission. “Really?”

Spike grinned at her. “Heard of me, have you?”

Faith nodded, trying not to look surprised. “Yeah… Well, just the name Rayne.”

Suddenly, he snarled at her, stepping forward. “Don’t say another word. Not another fucking word.”

Faith smirked at him. “Okay, Blondie. But that’s not what I’m interested in right now.”

***

Three hours later, Spike slumped on the bar, nursing his drink, as he watched Faith attempt to sing something onstage. When she returned to his side, he began to laugh.

“Bloody hell Slayer, you call that singing?”

She flipped him off with one hand, reaching for his beer with the other. “Yeah, well, I can… play the drums! And you can’t do either, Bleach Boy.”

Spike raised an eyebrow, pulling the beer away from her. “Actually, I can sing. I’ve been in a band. And don’t steal my sodding beer.”

Faith gaped at him. “Really? Go sing!”

Spike stared at her. “You’re pathetic when you’re sloshed. No, I’m not going to sing any karaoke. I thought you had taste.”

Faith giggled. “No, really, you asshole. Sing, or I’ll…” her hand found its way to his crotch and squeezed painfully, “make you sing!”

Spike winced, leaping away from her, muttering, “Bloody menace…” Sighing, he stood up, not nearly as drunk as his companion. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he dragged her after him.

“Come on Slayer, I’m taking you home.”

Faith looked up at him, smiling seductively. “Oh, really?”

Spike smirked, “Yeah, wanna get laid?”

Faith smirked right back. “I knew I’d found a kindred spirit.”

***

The next morning, Spike woke up after noon. Faith was gone, but had left a note on his pillow.

Hey, Stud.

Nice going… gotta say, I’m very impressed. Unfortunately, I’m not one for repeat performances… issues. Anyway, you were fun and all, but I don’t wanna do it again.
BUT, you did say something about singing? Cause me and these other guys want to start a band, Dingoes Ate My Baby and you could finish us up, if ya want. And if you’re any good, obviously.

Call me if so. 985-6447

Faith

Spike chuckled, pulling on a pair of jeans and stuffing the note into his pocket as he did so.

Once he was dressed, he walked downstairs, eating some toast as he wandered into the living room.

After watching the news, he took a shower and got fully dressed, finally reaching for the phone.

After three rings, Faith picked up. “Yeah?”

Spike’s low voice rumbled across the line. “Hullo luv.”

In her garage, Faith grinned at the sound. “Hi Spike. You calling about the band?”

Spike chuckled, “Yeah.”

Faith sighed in relief, and replied, “Well, we’re actually meeting at my house right now. Come on over.”

***

Spike arrived only 15 minutes later, pulling his Desoto up to her driveway and hopping out almost before it stopped moving. Faith, and a short guy with blue hair, as well as Xander and Willow, looked up.

Spike slammed the car door and walked over to them. “This the band, then?”

Faith grinned. “I’m the drummer, Oz here’s the bassist, Xander’s the keyboardist, and Willow is supposedly our manager.”

Spike grinned, “And I get to be vocals, eh pet?”

Faith merely raised an eyebrow. “Not until you prove yourself worthy.”

Spike chuckled and pointed back at his car. “Lemme just get my guitar.”

Walking out back to his car, Spike heard someone call his name. Not bothering to turn around, he answered, “Told you, just a sec.”

“Spike? What… Why are you here?”

Spike whirled around at the sound of Buffy’s voice. “What do you mean?”

She flushed. “I mean… at my house?”

Spike frowned, pulling his guitar from the car and slamming the door. “I’m here for Faith’s band.”

Buffy nodded. “Oh.” She said in a quiet voice.

Spike stalked past her towards the garage but stopped when he felt her hand on his shoulder. “Spike… I’m really sorry.”

Spike closed his eyes, still facing away from her as she continued, “I didn’t mean to break your locket, and I get that it was really important to you… I just, I don’t want you to be so mad at me.”

Spike opened his eyes and turned around. “That's nice. Really, it is. But if you hadn't noticed, I'm a little busy right now."

Buffy glared at him. "Fine! I was trying to be nice."

Spike chuckled, and turned, re-entering the garage. Buffy glared after him angrily, but after standing alone for a long minute, she followed.

The band was already set up by the time Spike entered, and he was just hooking his guitar up to the speakers when Buffy walked up and leaned on the open garage door.

Faith gaped at her twin sister. "What are you doing, B? Don't you have some shopping to do?"

Willow and Xander also stared. Oz just raised an eyebrow a smidgen and Spike ignored her. Buffy shrugged. "Riley and Angel and Cordy are on their way to pick me up. I just thought I'd watch you until then."

Faith shrugged. "Whatever."

***

"Okay, I think it's safe to say that you're in the band," Willow smiled, glancing around at everyone else for their agreeing nods. "Give me your phone number and I'll call you for the next practice once I work out when everyone's free."

Spike nodded, and walked over to her, brushing past Xander, who flinched, still somewhat scared of the new guy. Buffy, still leaning on the garage door, frowned at the exchange, but was distracted by her sister walking up to her.

"What's going on, B? And don't tell me you were just waiting for your buddies, because you've never watched us before."

Buffy fidgeted and babbled nervously. "Nothing. I'm just – curious, that's all. I mean, I never watch you guys, and I thought it was about time, now that you have a vocalist, not that that's why I was watching, because it wasn't, but I was curious about how you guys would sound, that's all!"

Faith smirked at her 3-minutes younger sister. "Oh, I get it. You want a piece of the new guy, don't you?"

Buffy jumped. "No! I do not! Why would you – hey look, there's Riley!"

She practically ran away from her sister to leap into the footballer's embrace, planting a kiss on his mouth. "Hey Ry, where are Angel and Cordy?"

Her boyfriend put on a fake-shocked expression. "And I thought it was the guy who's supposed to forget the anniversary!" Buffy gaped, and he grinned. "Relax, I'm just kidding. We both know it's next week. They just decided to go out for a movie, so I thought we could get dinner."

Buffy relaxed, taking his hand and walking with him to the car. "Sounds good to me. Date time it is!"

Neither of them noticed the angry blue eyes watching them from the garage as the car pulled away. Spike shook his head angrily, and nodded to Willow and the others before getting into his own car and driving away – in the opposite direction.

"William?"

Giles opened his nephew's door and sighed when he saw an empty bottle on the floor. He walked up to the figure in the bed and shook him awake. "William! Wake up!"

Spike jerked awake to see his angry uncle hovering over him. "Aah!" he leapt back, hitting his head on the headboard.

Giles picked up the bottle and swung it back and forth. "I thought you were over this?"

Spike clutched his head, trying to focus through his blinding headache and groaning when he saw the bottle in his uncle's hands. "Oh... that."

"Yes, that. Get dressed, I'll be waiting downstairs."

***

Fifteen minutes later, Spike trudged downstairs and accepted a cup of tea from Giles, who watched him expectantly. "So?"

Spike sighed. "I visited that Joyce lady already... I'm gonna go back today to start doing the job part."

Giles smiled slightly. "As glad as I am to hear that, you know that wasn't what I meant. Care to explain the bottle to me?"

Spike's jaw worked silently for a moment, and he gulped down some tea without answering for a few minutes. Then he shrugged. "The whole locket thing reminded me of Mum, that's all. I was drowning my sorrows."

Giles frowned. "And you expect me to believe that? William, you know you can't lie to me. If you could, you wouldn't be here."

Spike shot Giles a look. "Maybe you don't believe it, but that's all I'm gonna say."

His uncle sighed and changed the subject, knowing when to pick his battles. "Fine. I have a letter from your father."

Spike looked up. "Yeah? How's he doing?"

Giles pursed his lips in disapproval. "Apparently he's doing well... though I'm not sure I'd classify prison as 'well'."

Spike shrugged. "Yeah, whatever. Listen Rupes, tell him I still don't want to talk to him."

Giles sighed, "I suspected so. And please, could you refrain from calling me that ridiculous nickname?"

Spike gave his uncle a genuine smile. "But it's the only thing I can do to annoy you anymore! You didn't even yell at me when you saw the wet towels on the floor Friday!"

Giles smirked. "I was too busy picturing using them to tie you up and leave you laying in the tub, since you spend so much time there every morning."

Spike laughed and stood up. "Speaking of which, I need a shower." he turned to go back upstairs, but paused and put a hand on his uncle's shoulder. "Thanks, Uncle. Haven't said it yet, but I knew I could count on you."

Giles smiled fondly after him. "He's going to be fine." Turning back to the table, he frowned when he noticed his scone had disappeared. "William!"

***

Buffy was woken up by something large and heavy falling on her stomach. "Oof!"

Faith grinned, readying herself for another bounce. "Get up! Get up!"

Buffy sat up, knees to her chest to protect herself from her sister. "God, what are you, six?"

Her sister just grinned at her. "So, how was the date? Get any action in that jeep?"

Buffy scoffed. "Yeah, right! I, unlike some people, want my first time to be special. I don't go around boinking in cars!"

Faith sighed condescendingly. "I think we've hit the nail on the head. You need to loosen up or Riley-boy's gonna dump your ass for someone who will."

Buffy laughed. "Riley wouldn't do that. He agrees with me, idiot."

Faith looked shocked. "Are you sure he's male? Maybe you should check!"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Very funny. Um, why are you in my room on a Sunday morning anyway? Don't you normally sleep in until after noon?"

Faith shrugged. "Mom got me up. She wanted us to clean house today while she does her gallery thing with that new guy."

Buffy grumbled. "Oh... Spike."

"Spike's the artist dude?"

"Uh-huh. But who cares? I'll get up then, just give me another minute..."

***

Spike stretched his arms above his head tiredly. "All done, Joyce."

Joyce came into the room and blinked in surprise. "Oh."

Spike raised an eyebrow at her, speaking through a yawn. "Whassat?"

She shrugged and laughed a little. "I generally have my daughters help me. It would have taken them another hour to finish unpacking all of this." She mock-sighed. "What on earth am I going to do with you?"

Spike laughed. "Use me as slave-labor?"

Joyce smiled. "That sounds perfect. Speaking of which, since you've finished with these, why don't you go pick up a painting for me? I was going to pick it up tomorrow, but I don't have anything else for you to do here. I'll let you go for the day afterwards."

Spike shrugged. "Yeah, sure."

***

It didn't take Spike long to find the docks and pick up the painting. Driving back, he slowed and stopped at the sight of a boy walking along the sidewalk.

"Harris, need a ride?"

Xander glanced up at Spike in surprise. "Wha – Why?"

Spike frowned, "What do you mean?"

Xander elaborated, stepping a little closer to the car. "Why are you offering me a ride? Just the other day, you were threatening me with scalpels."

Spike chuckled, "Well yeah, but don't you remember? I was just cranky." When Xander didn't laugh, he shrugged. "I'm just offering you a ride. If you don't want it, fine. If you do, get in now before I leave. I'm not gonna have a long discussion about my feelings just because you have issues with accepting rides."

Xander frowned, but got in.

They drove in silence for a few minutes, then Spike said, "I gotta drop something off first, won't take long." Off Xander's horrified look, he groaned in frustration. "What now?"

Xander shrunk away from the other boy. "You're not... you're not dealing drugs or anything, are you?"

Spike clenched his jaw angrily, and pressed his foot flat on the brake. The Desoto screeched to a halt in the middle of the empty road, and he turned to Xander. "NO! I bloody well am not! Bloody hell, I -" Spike cut himself off, jumping out his door with a curse. Once outside, he lit a cigarette and smoked it quickly, only taking a few drags before flinging it to the ground and crushing it.

After a minute, he rejoined Xander in the car and started it up again, breathing a little heavily. "No. I'm delivering a painting to Joyce Summers, lady that owns the gallery. I think she's Faith's mum, right?"

Xander didn't answer Spike, still staring at him in astonishment, and Spike fell back into silence, tension thick in the air.

***

Joyce took the painting from Spike with a smile. "When are you going to get your own work here from overseas?"

Spike shrugged. "I dunno, within a week. I'll call you, yeah? Then you can come over and pick if you want some or not, and I won't have to bring them all here."

Joyce nodded. "That sounds good. I know Rupert has my phone number, so... And I'll have a work schedule for you when you call me, so that you have proper hours here."

Spike smiled at her and turned to go. "See you, Mum."

Joyce smiled at the nickname she'd received, and turned back to her paperwork with a lighter mood than before.

Spike, on the other hand, tensed up again as he got into his car. Xander sat stiffly in the passenger seat, not looking at the bleach blonde. Both were clearly uncomfortable with the situation, and Spike was regretting ever offering the ride.

Xander directed Spike to a rundown house verging on the worse half of town. Once the car stopped, he got out quickly, but stopped and gave Spike a considering look before slamming the door. "Thanks for the ride."

Spike frowned after Xander before driving away. He shrugged and stuck a cigarette in his mouth, but didn't light it. Driving one handed, Spike, ran a hand through his hair and spoke aloud to himself in an attempt to sum up what had happened since moving into this weird little town.

"I pissed someone off, I got a job, Mum's locket got broken, I pissed someone off again, I got vocals in a band, the person I pissed off repeatedly has a boyfriend, I freaked out a possible friend by acting like a psycho..."

Spike shrugged to himself. "Well, it's a better track record than back home."

He never wondered why he had added Buffy dating Riley to the list. It was obviously just a mistake. He didn't care, or anything. His original thoughts upon seeing her were completely gone. Obviously.

Spike’s eyes narrowed as he watched the scene being played out in front of him. Willow Rosenberg was cowering in front of her locker, backed up against it by one unfamiliar boy, Cordelia Chase, and one person who he’d noticed the other day.

Buffy’s boyfriend.

Spike growled under his breath, slowly ambling up behind the group and listening to what the pretty brunette girl was currently saying.

“…It’s due in two days, and I want an A. And so do Angel and Riley. We’ve all got different topics, so you’d better get to work fast, Twig, or… Well, I’m sure I don’t need to explain the various things big, strong, football players can do to a weak, nerdy, fashion-challenged little–”

“Oi, Red!” Spike had had enough. Shoving roughly past the three, he spoke only to Willow, voice calm though his eyes showed fury. “You need any help?”

The redhead smiled, relieved, and gave Spike a tiny nod. He smirked and turned to the three people who were now glaring at him. “So, I hear, you’ve been botherin’ Red here.”

The larger of the two boys, whom Spike instantly disliked, took a step closer and tried to give him an intimidating glare. “What makes you think that’s any of your business? Who the hell do you think you are?”

Spike didn’t back down. “I’m Spike, and it’s my business ‘cause Red’s my mate. And no one messes with my friends, ‘specially not idiot poofters with ridiculous hair, got it Forehead?”

Angel growled, and drew a fist back ready to punch Spike, when they were interrupted by the bell going off. Angel glanced behind him and swore. “Dammit!” The three began to back off, and Angel glared at Spike. “This isn’t over.”

Spike snorted, turning to Willow, who was frantically gathering all her books from her locker, horrified that she might be late for class. “How long have they been doing that, Red?”

Willow shrugged, finally grabbing the last of her stuff and shutting her locker. “Not that long. It’s really no big deal.”

Spike’s eyes flashed. “How can you say that! They were threatening you!”

Willow bit her lip. “Look, thanks for helping me. But, could you please not tell anyone? Please?”

Spike groaned, knowing he was making a mistake, but… “I’ll keep your secret. Jus’ tell me next time they try, alright?”

Willow beamed. “Thanks, Spike. I knew you were a good guy.”

***

Riley watched silently as Angel paced back and forth angrily. “Who the hell does that idiot think he is? Now I’m gonna get a bad grade on that report, and my dad’s gonna kill me!”

Riley remained silent, not quite as upset as Angel was. He actually liked Willow, even though he couldn’t show it due to their differences in popularity, and he’d never really felt comfortable scaring her or forcing her to do his work for him. So he was a little glad that the new guy had stepped up to her defense.

Angel suddenly stopped pacing and turned to Riley. “You know what, I think we need to teach that dork a lesson. No one stops me from getting what I want, least of all some stupid British freak!”

Riley frowned. “What do you mean? He hasn’t really done anything. I don’t think he really needs a lesson, Angel.”

Angel grinned and Riley’s heart sank. “He’s gonna get in my way sooner or later if he keeps acting like that. I think we’d better take care of him before he does something really annoying, don’t you?”

***

Buffy gossiped with Cordelia at the popular table at lunch, happily discussing the latest trends in fashion and putting down the nerds in the school. At a pause in the conversation, Buffy glanced around, confused. “Hey, where are the guys?”

Cordelia waved a hand in the air. “Oh, somewhere. I don’t know. They’ll get here soon enough… So, what’s the deal with the new guy?”

Buffy blinked in surprise. “Wh-what?”

Cordelia repeated her question. “The new guy, with the weird accent and all-black fixation? You know, who’s currently sitting with the freaks at your goth sister’s table?”

Buffy turned around in her seat and looked at the table. Sure enough, Spike was there, along with Faith, Willow, Oz, and Xander, eating some french-fries and laughing at a joke Xander was making.

Buffy quickly turned back around. “Oh, him. He just joined Faith’s lame-o band.”

Cordelia snickered. “Great, that will really improve their sound.” She rolled her eyes. “God, I can’t believe you’re even related to such a ridiculous slut.”

Buffy swallowed the indignation she felt on behalf of her twin, nodding. “Yeah, well. If I had any choice…” She trailed off.

Cordelia smiled at her, then abruptly changed the subject. “So. Have you heard the dish on Darla?”

Buffy nodded fervently. “I totally saw her macking on Angel Friday.” Not that he didn’t enjoy it… her mind added, but she shook the idea out of her head. It wasn’t any of her business whether or not her ex wanted to get back together with his ex, and besides, she had Riley and Cordelia was obviously going after Angel.

Cordelia nodded. “She is such a ho! It’s obvious Angel wants me, it’s only a matter of time.”

Buffy nodded, trying not to tune out as her best friend began to babble. Still, her mind wandered, and she found herself glancing over her shoulder at her sister’s table, where the group was once again laughing, this time at something Spike was saying. He grinned at them as he finished his story, and Buffy found herself smiling as she watched him. Suddenly, he glanced up and their eyes met, his grin slowly faded as he stared back at her.

She quickly turned around, tuning back into the conversation, which Harmony, who had just sat down, had joined.

“And then he asked me if you were going to be there, and when I said yes, he…”

***

Spike glanced up, feeling eyes on him, and his grin faded when he met the hazel eyes of Buffy Summers. She was staring at him, a small smile on her face. He stared in shock for a moment, but then she spun around quickly, turning away from him and back to her friends.

The rest of the table around him stopped laughing slowly, and he shook his head and looked back at the group. Faith was watching him. “What’s up?”

Spike shrugged. “Nothing. Your sis was staring at me, is all.”

Faith frowned, and looked behind her at the popular table. “Huh. Weird.” Inwardly she was smirking, but she acted like she had no idea why her sister would be staring at the newest addition to the Dingoes.

Spike shook his head, trying to dispel the niggling little feeling of pleasure, and picked up another french-fry, turning slightly as he listened to Willow and Xander reminiscing. He was angry at Buffy, not glad that she was staring at him. She and her pals were all stuck-up snobs. Look at how they were treating Willow!

Spike shook her fully out of his mind and chuckled when Xander blushed. “Quite the little exhibitionist, eh?” he smirked, rejoining the conversation. “Interruptin’ serious meetings by runnin’ in naked.”

Xander looked outraged and mortified. “Did we forget that I was five at the time? And besides, it wasn’t a serious meeting… It was just my mom and aunt and… the mayor… but still!”

Willow sniggered and Faith decided to finally stand up for her male friend. “Hey, don’t you start laughing, little miss ‘I read the library’s Playboy’.”

“That wasn’t – I was not!” Willow blushed and shrunk into her boyfriend’s side. “Oz… tell her.”

Spike grinned at the group’s antics. Why would he bother with Barbie when he had people like this to hang out with? He wouldn’t, it was as simple as that.

***

Spike sat in biology quietly, carving his name into the side of his desk. Xander had apparently lost his hostile attitude for no real reason, and was happily poking at the frog the two boys had been given.

Spike snatched the knife from the other boy and sliced open the frog’s belly, grinning when its guts spilled out. Xander made a face, and then began to attempt to separate them from each other.

“Okay, so this is the stomach… and it won’t come loose... Oh, shit.” Xander looked sheepishly at the now skewered frog and then to Spike. “You think that its stomach being ripped in half is gonna make a difference on our grade?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Smart move, genius.”

Xander defended himself, “Hey, I slipped!”

“Right…” Spike grinned when the bell rang and swiftly stood. “Lets just escape before teach sees the frog, yeah?”

The two left the classroom quickly, and Spike headed out to the parking lot. Xander stopped him. “Hey, Spike.”

The bleached blonde paused, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Xander fidgeted. “Listen… Sorry about the whole drug deal suspicion thing the other day, okay? You just… seem like the kind of guy who’d do that stuff, and you weren’t exactly nice when we first met.”

The words ‘drug deal’ made Spike tense, but he shook it off and smiled. “No problem, mate. Jus’ don’t mention it again.”

***

Giles was waiting for Spike when he arrived home. Spike was grinning, running up the steps three at a time, but slowed instantly when he saw the look on his uncle’s face.

“What’s wrong? Da?”

Giles nodded. “Yes. It’s Ethan. He… was found dealing in prison.”

Spike blanched. “Bloody hell.”

Giles nodded. “He’s not getting out anytime soon now. His sentence has been elongated and he’s been moved to a maximum security prison.”

Spike nodded, head bowed. “Right.”

Giles reached out a hand. “Will…”

Spike jumped back. “Don’t call me that!” He turned and rushed away to his bedroom, locking the door behind him. Shivering, he sank onto his bed as memories assaulted him.

“What’s that, Da?”

Ethan roughly shoved his son away from the bags of white powder. “Don’t touch that! Get out of here!”

Spike blinked in surprise, a hand coming up to his shoulder where he’d hit it when Ethan pushed him. “Why should I?” he asked, instantly rebellious. His father ignored him, snatching up the last bag.

“I’m going to be gone for a few days on business. If anyone comes asking for me, I went to visit your uncle.”

Spike narrowed his eyes at his father. “It’s drugs, innit? It’s got to be. It’s obviously illegal, and I know you don’t have a real job to keep paying the bills.”

Ethan spun around, glaring at his son. “Don’t say a word about this Will, or I swear…”

Spike swallowed hard. “Mum would hate you for doing this.”

His father laughed. “She’s not here now is she? Anne’s gone, and I’m your only parent now. You’ll listen to me, or I don’t care what her last wishes were, I’m giving you away.”

Spike’s eyes closed tightly as he fought back tears. Then he opened them, and they were focused on his father. “Let me help you.”

Spike shuddered, hating his father for what he’d done, and what he’d led Spike to do. “Bloody bastard.” He murmured, tears leaking onto his pillow.

***

Downstairs, Giles paced anxiously, not knowing whether he should go after his nephew or leave him alone. He growled and silently cursed his brother-in-law. He’d always hated the bastard for taking away his little sister Anne, but when he’d learned about the other man’s drug dealing, he’d lost it.

It had been thanks to Spike he’d found out. The boy had never been able to keep a secret from his favorite uncle, who could always tell when he was lying, and so when Spike had mentioned his father, Giles knew something was wrong.

“William, I know something is going on, tell me.”

Spike shook his head. “It’s nothing. Da’s just been… busy.”

Giles growled and went to the kitchen to pour himself a drink. He hated reliving the memories of that time. Spike and he had still been in mourning over Anne, and Spike had thrown himself fully into spending time with his father… Not the best decision.

As time had passed, Spike had grown less and less comfortable talking with his uncle, afraid that he would let it slip that his father was very actively dealing drugs… and that he was helping him do so.

Finally, Giles had become worried enough to pay to fly to England and had known instantly upon seeing his nephew that something was very wrong. Spike had confessed the truth, and Giles had called in the police.

It infuriated him to no end that Ethan had managed to continue his so-called career within prison, and manage to disrupt his son’s life yet again, and even now not care.

Giles shook the thoughts forcefully out of his head. It would do him no good musing on the past, and it would do Spike even less.

Despite deciding this, he couldn’t make himself get up and stop remembering, and Giles took a large gulp of scotch and resigned himself to the memories, knowing they wouldn’t be going away any time soon.

Though Xander now considered Spike to be a friend, he was smart enough to steer clear of him this morning. He wasn’t sure what exactly had angered the bleach-blonde, but whatever it was, Spike’s face was dark with a suppressed rage as he walked the halls of Sunnydale High.

Indeed, Spike was angry. He’d thought that he had left his father – and his father’s dealings – behind him before he’d moved here, and had finally gotten to the point where the only calls he made to his therapist were strictly off the books, speaking from a friend to a friend.

But apparently he’d have to start paying Tara again, because his anger management wasn’t exactly restraining him today. Or at least, the way he was glaring around at the world and the damage he’d done to various things within easy kicking range, wasn’t the way he’d been practicing calming himself. But, reflected Spike, at least he hadn’t attacked anyone yet.

It was just as he was thinking that, and as Xander, walking a wary distance away from Spike, was thinking maybe he should skip science class altogether rather than sit with Spike today, when Spike saw Riley walking towards him, Buffy on his arm.

He actually growled deep in his throat, a deep loathing for the boy – and disgust for Buffy, that she would actually date someone like that – rising up in him, and before Spike knew what he was doing, he had shoved his things at Xander and was striding off towards Riley, a murderous expression on his face.

Riley saw him coming, and blinked in surprise at the look on Spike’s face, but he quickly let go of Buffy and backed up a little. “Spike, I’ve been wanting to talk to you!”

He saw the surprise on Buffy’s face, and felt even more ashamed of what had been happening with Willow, because he knew that she would never stand for it. It was why he and the others had never told her. As Cordelia put it, “Buffy’s great but she’s too soft-hearted. She can’t really be a bitch to people who aren’t mean to her, not even when it’s necessary.”

But not telling her also meant that she had no idea why Spike was advancing on Riley now, promising a painful death with just his walk, not to mention his eyes. And, on the other side of the situation, Xander also had no idea – all he knew was that Spike was angry, and it looked like Riley was a target.

However, and luckily for all involved, Riley’s statement had managed to pause Spike. “What.” He growled, looking none-too-pleased.

Riley shook his head, avoiding Buffy’s eyes. “Not here.” Instantly, he saw understanding in Spike’s eyes, and prayed that the other boy wouldn’t reveal his actions to his girlfriend…

But apparently, Spike also felt guilty about not saying something earlier, because he shot Xander a look, then nodded at Riley. “Alright. Parking lot good?”

Riley nodded, and with a nod to Buffy he walked away, Spike following him and both leaving someone staring after them in shock.

***

“What did you want to tell me?” Spike wasn’t looking at Riley, instead staring out at the parking lot, smoking a cigarette.

Riley glanced nervously around. He already felt paranoid about this meeting, and nothing had even been said yet. But he had a valid reason to be worried; he was basically committing treachery against the popular group – most importantly, against Angel. Riley was under no illusions about what Angel would do to him if he ever found out about this. But he thought it was worth it. And it might just soothe his troubled conscience just a little.

“It’s about Angel. He wants to – well, he called it ‘teaching you a lesson’ because you stopped him and Cordy from making Willow do our homework – ”

Here Spike glanced up, “Don’t you mean because I stopped him, the cheerleader, and you from threatening Red into writing your reports?” His voice was calm, but his hands were clenched into fists, and his eyes were cold.

Riley looked down, blushing. “Right.” He swallowed audibly. “But I – I didn’t really want her to. I was just going along with what he said…”

Spike snorted. “Oh, an’ that makes it perfectly fine for you to do that to ‘er, does it?” His accent thickened with his anger.

Riley opened his mouth to retort, then closed it. “No,” he said with a sigh, “It doesn’t. But I’m trying to tell you: Angel’s going to corner you today. Out in the parking lot, after school. He plans on… well, he was going to trash your car first, then he wanted to beat you up after people left school.”

Spike nodded. “I expected somethin’ like tha – my car?!”

Riley was already headed towards the door to go back inside. “Yeah. Look, don’t tell anyone I told you, okay? I just – I don’t think you deserve it, and I wanted to warn you. And,” he paused halfway through the door, looking extremely guilty, “tell Willow I’m sorry.”

With those parting words, he slipped back inside, rushing away before anyone could see him talking to Spike.

***

Buffy and Xander remained in the hallway, staring off at the two boys walking away. There was a long pause. Then Buffy spoke, still staring in the direction they’d gone. “Do you know what’s going on?”

Xander shook his head, also looking off into the distance. “All I know is that Spike was in a seriously bad mood today.”

Buffy chewed her lips. “Riley was really quiet this morning.”

They both shared a look, then hurried to follow their friend and boyfriend without a word. They reached the back door into the parking lot and shared another look. Xander snuck the door open a few inches, and they pressed their ears to the crack just in time to hear Spike’s angry voice; “Oh, an’ that makes it perfectly fine for you to do that to ‘er, does it?”

Riley’s reply was quieter, sounding almost ashamed, and they couldn’t make out much: just something about Angel and the parking lot. Buffy and Xander stared at each-other, silently agreeing that they had no idea what this was about.

Once again, Spike’s reply was much easier to hear, or at least the last two words, shouted in a panic, were: “…my car?!”

Riley’s voice was becoming clearer and clearer as he said something about Spike not deserving ‘it’ and warning him. Xander’s eyes widened as he realized that Riley was heading toward the door, and he grabbed Buffy’s arm, yanking her around the corner out of sight from the door.

The door opened, and they clearly heard Riley’s voice saying, “Tell Willow I’m sorry.” Then he came in, letting the door fall shut behind him, and rushed off, not even noticing the pair watching him go.

Buffy turned to look at Xander. “What did he mean, ‘tell Willow I’m sorry’? He hasn’t done anything to her! …Has he?”

Xander shook his head, just as baffled. “No. No, Wills would have told me if something was going on… And she hasn’t said anything about Riley.”

Buffy frowned. “I don’t like this.”

Xander nodded. “Anything that involves Riley being sorry to Willow and warning Spike about something can’t be good.”

Buffy furrowed her brow. “Wait – didn’t Riley say something about Angel? Maybe he’s sorry on Angel’s behalf!”

Xander shook his head. “No, Spike definitely said, ‘that doesn’t make it okay for you to do that to her.’ Riley was involved somehow.”

Buffy sighed. “I guess.”

Xander nodded. “We need to find out what happened to Willow. You talk to Riley; I’ll ask Willow herself.”

Buffy nodded, but then caught herself. “No! It’s bad enough having a conversation with you, but I’m definitely not working with you!” She turned to walk away. “Look, Xander… I don’t like you, but… Please, don’t tell anyone about this.”

Xander looked a little offended, but nodded. “This is a secret. The only people I might ask about it is Willow and Spike, and even then…” He trailed off. “But, if it turns out your boyfriend has been doing something to Willow – well, all my friends are gonna find out, and it won’t be fun for him.”

Buffy nodded. “I get it.”

They each walked away in a different direction.

***

Spike quickly made his way to the parking lot. If that bastard had even touched his car…

He stopped dead, staring at his car. Obviously, Angel had been interrupted – but the scratches on the sides, smashed windows, and slashed tires were more than bad enough.

Entering the school again, he stalked through the hallways in search of his quarry, his anger only growing with every step. He shoved his way through the crowds, finally just grabbing one student. “Where the fuck is Angel?” he snarled, and the boy meekly whispered something about the cafeteria.

Spike didn’t even realize that he’d missed the lunch bell, or that attacking Angel in the cafeteria – completely within view of most of the student body and several teachers – was far from a good idea, he was so angry.

Slamming the cafeteria doors open, he stomped straight to Angel’s table, jerking the boy out of his chair. For a single instant, Angel looked surprised and a little afraid – but then a smirk curved his features.

“Hey, what’s your problem, man?”

Spike’s tunnel vision suddenly dissipated – he became aware of most of the cafeteria staring at him, from a confused Faith, Oz, Willow, and Xander at his table to an equally confused Buffy, a surprised but understanding Riley, and a smug Cordelia at the table directly in front of him. But he also found that he really didn’t care.

Drawing a fist back, he slammed it right into Angel’s nose. “You fucking bastard! You fucking wanker!”

Angel stumbled back, hands clutching his nose. It gave Spike a tiny bit of satisfaction to see the smug looks vanish from his and Cordelia’s faces for instant – but it wasn’t enough. He whirled on Riley angrily. “And you too, you asshole! You fucking helped him, didn’t you?”

Riley wasn’t sure whether or not Spike was helping him out – by making it seem that he was in no way on Spike’s side – or was genuinely angry. But either way, he had no desire to get involved in fight with the boy. Though Spike was physically smaller than both Riley and Angel, something about him told you he knew his way around a fight – Angel, clutching his probably-broken nose in pain, was testament to his punches.

Riley backed off. “Hey, I don’t know what you’re talking abo–”

Before he could finish he sentence, he ducked, and Spike’s blow just barely missed him. Okay, thought Riley, I think it’s safe to say he really is mad at me.

Angel’s hands fell from his nose as he rejoined the fight, approaching Spike from behind. Riley sighed, but went to join the boy, knowing that if he hung back a dozen different people would notice and rumors would be spreading insanely even before the teachers, several of whom were approaching from different corners of the room, could break up the fight.

***

When Giles walked into the main office, he didn’t say a word to Spike; he just went straight to the principal’s office and spoke to the man for over half an hour. When he came out, he simply motioned for Spike to follow him to the car, and the boy – wincing in pain as he stood – did so silently.

Giles asked him the first question at a red light, halfway home. “Does this have anything to do with Ethan – anything at all?”

Spike started – in truth he’d forgotten all about the cause of his original bad mood the moment he saw what had been done to his car. He loved the car like a person, and seeing it hurt was something that had driven all other concerns out of his brain.

“No,” he said truthfully, shaking his head. A drop of blood fell from a cut on his chin as he spoke, and he wiped it off his seat with a finger, looking at the dark smear. “No. The bastards trashed my car.”

At this, Giles glanced over in surprise. “What? How – how did you know it was them?”

Giles was still looking at Spike, and had it not been for the boy’s slight unconscious clenching of his jaw before he spoke, Giles would never have known his nephew was lying to him. “I saw him.”

“I see. And why did he ‘trash your car’?”

Again, Giles glanced over; again, the slight clench before Spike spoke. “I insulted his bird. Apparently he didn’t like that.”

Giles nodded thoughtfully, parking at his house and waiting until they had both made their way inside before he turned to Spike and said, “All right William. Let’s try that again, with the truth this time.”

Spike gave him a surprised look, then laughed shortly. “You’ll have to tell me how you do that sometime, Uncle.”

Giles continued watching him. “You have just been suspended for three days; you haven’t been in this school for even a week yet! I don’t think this is the time for lies or jokes.”

Spike sighed heavily, not meeting Giles’ eyes. “Look. I’d tell you if I could, but – ” here he glanced up and met his uncle’s gaze dead on. “I can’t. I promised.”

He looked anything but happy about this, and Giles got the feeling that had it not been for his promise, this would be one of the rare times that William actually approached him for any real advice. But, unfortunately at the moment, Spike considered all promises to be the final word; if he made a promise he kept it, and that was that. Otherwise, he didn’t make them. In fact, Giles could only recall one time Spike had ever broken a promise, and that wasn’t even an explicit promise – when he told Giles what his father was doing, he’d broken their unspoken pact not to give anything away. And that involved major drug deals, his own extremely guilty conscience, and a lot of work from Giles, before he did break it. So when he said ‘I promised’, Giles instantly understood that he couldn’t hope to ever get Spike to break his promise, no matter what punishments were heaped on him, and it was better not to try.

“Well, is there anything you can tell me that won’t break your promise, and that I can tell the principal so that he no longer believes you committed an entirely unprovoked attack on two of his students, in plain sight of many witnesses?”

Spike winced. “Uh… I don’t know. Not much.”

Giles sighed again, and instinctively began to make tea. “Tell me all you can.”

Spike was obviously considering it, trying to figure out how much he could say without breaking his promise or saying enough that Giles would figure it out anyway. “Yesterday, I stopped those two, and that chit – Cordelia Chase – from doing something… let’s just assume it was bad. And I promised not to tell anyone. Then, today, the one of them, Ken – ”

Giles interrupted Spike here. “I’ve managed to decode most of your nicknames, but this one eludes me completely. Tell me, who is ‘Ken’?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Ken, as in Barbie’s boy-toy, as in the boyfriend of Buffy Summers AKA Barbie. Also known as Riley Finn.”

Giles nodded. “I see. Please continue.”

“Right. So, he told me he wanted to talk to me this morning, wanted to tell me something. At first I thought he was just trying to prolong the inevitable – ” he nodded at Giles’ sharp glance. “Yes, I was going to commit an unprovoked attack on him earlier, because I was angry, he annoys me, and he was there, but I didn’t, so that’s hardly the point right now.”

Giles shook his head. “Again, I really think you should try yoga, or some sort of calming method. Half the time painting or working out seems to make you angrier.”

Spike perked up. “Yeah, but I get some amazing art when I’m mad – I drew something last night that I think I might take down to Joyce, maybe ask her to put it up in – ”

“You were explaining things to me, William.”

“…Right. Okay. So, Mr. Finn and I went off to the back door by the parking lot to talk, and he warned me about his friend – apparently he felt guilty about almost doing what I stopped them from doing, and when his Caveman friend made plans with him to ‘punish’ me, he decided to warn me, so I could avoid it.”

Spike scratched his arm, annoyed. “My arm feels a little funny. I think I pulled something, or got a deep bruise that hasn’t come out yet.”

Giles had no sympathy. “Then what happened?”

“He told me that Angel – what kind of a poofter name is that anyway, Angel? – had been planning to corner me in the parkin’ lot after most people were gone and kick me around… which was frankly nothing more than I expected. But then he said somethin’ about Cro-Magnon messing up my car before he left, so I went out to check that everything was okay.”

Spike clenched his hands in anger. “The fucking bastard really messed ‘er up. Keyed the sides, slashed the tires, smashed the windows in… He didn’t take anything out of it, or get the headlights, so I guess either he wasn’t really set on destroying it, or he had to leave in the middle for some reason. But frankly I wasn’t exactly cheering about that at the time.”

Spike shrugged. “I was extremely angry; understandably, I think. So yeah, I was really stupid, going after him in the school at all, let alone at lunch, but I’d say it was anythin’ but unprovoked.”

Giles nodded slowly. “Any chance that Riley Finn would confess his involvement, or at least knowledge, so we can prove they were the ones who damaged you car?”

Spike shook his head. “None. Like I said, I don’t think any of this’ll help me out. But at least you know; I did have a reason.”

Giles sighed heavily, setting two full cups of tea on the table. “I think that perhaps we’ll have to ask Tara to schedule you some anger management classes, or something of the sort. You handled this exactly the wrong way.”

Spike sipped his tea, looking indignant. “I handled it pretty fucking well, in my opinion! Considering everything, that is.”

“Yes, well, neither the school or the court system thinks in terms of ‘considering everything’. They don’t say, ‘Yes, this student killed a teacher because of a remark the man made – but he was an addict, had suffered recent emotional trauma, and had anger management problems; considering everything, he handled it quite well.’”

Spike blinked. “Am I supposed to be that student? I don’t think I’d ever reach the ‘kill a teacher’ stage – and what do you mean, I’m an addict? I don’t do drugs – you know that.”

“Cigarettes; you should quit. And it was simply an example. By the way, what do you think of this tea? It’s new.”

Spike gulped down the rest of his cup with a grimace at the heat. “I like it. Where’d you find it?”

“Joyce gave me some. I’m going to have to ask where she bought it.”

Spike smirked suddenly – with the cut on his chin, his emerging black eye, and general battered appearance, it looked a little scary. “Oh, Joyce gave it to you, did she? Does Joyce happen to be single, by any chance?”

Giles rolled his eyes. “Go clean yourself up. I’m going to call the school and say something about the car. And, William – in the future, please try to stick to words, and not fists, and not do things that provoke boys to destroy your car.”

Spike called down the stairs, as he walked away, “Can’t make any promises, Rupes!”

***

Buffy was not feeling happy with Riley right now. First, he had been quiet during the morning, barely talking to her and obviously preoccupied. She would’ve been perfectly willing to let him think over whatever it was he needed to think through on his own time, though, had it not been for his secret little ‘meeting’ with Spike. After that, she had tried to talk to him, but he’d simply refused to answer her, and since she didn’t want him knowing she’d eavesdropped on him, she couldn’t ask anything specific.

But the fight at lunch was simply the last straw. Riley had been keeping secrets from her; big secrets, and he’d been getting into fights over them, and he still wouldn’t tell her the truth?

He so wasn’t getting an anniversary present.

Especially considering the gigantic fight they’d just had – and maybe she should have taken pity on him because of his concussion, but hey, he’d brought it on himself. And the fight had been therapeutic.

The only problem was, now Buffy didn’t know where to get answers. If Riley wouldn’t tell her, there was really only one place she could go, but for some reason, she really didn’t want to go there right now. Especially considering her previous luck there, which was itself anything but phenomenal.

But still… she really, really wanted to know what was going on, and if visiting him was the price – Buffy was willing to pay.

So she gritted her teeth, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, closed her eyes – and knocked.

***

Okay, just breathe, Xander, you’ve made the right choice. This is the right thing to do – this is the only place you’re going to get those answers – at least you won’t get beaten up this way. Hopefully. Don’t be nervous… Don’t be nervous…

Xander took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for anything that might occur, licked his lips, closed his eyes – and knocked.

***

At the exact same moment, in a remarkable coincidence, two people across the town from each-other opened their doors and asked in shock, “What are you doing here?”

Previously: At the exact same moment, in a remarkable coincidence, two people across the town from each-other opened their doors and asked in shock, “What are you doing here?”

“I mean, how do you even know where I live? That’s just gross.” Cordelia Chase sneered, but Xander just rolled his eyes, not bothered by the insult.

“Yeah, whatever, you’re a bitch; got it. Now that we both understand that, let’s get down to business.” He crossed his arms and glared at Cordelia. “You’re Buffy’s best friend, everybody knows you and Angel are practically dating, and, let’s face it, you’re really nosey. So I’m guessing you know what’s going on with Angel and Riley and Spike. And I want you to tell me.”

Cordelia blinked, surprised; but then she recovered, crossing her own arms and leaning against the door. “Oh look, the Zeppo has a spine! Face it Xander, you’re a first-rate loser, and you aren’t ever going to be at the same level as me. And because of that,” she stepped back inside the house, “I really can’t be seen talking to you. Hey, as long as you’re here, the shrubs could use a clipping. I always knew you’d end up as my gardener someday.”

She flashed him a bright smile, and slammed the front door in his face – only to jump when it slammed right back open and Xander stormed inside. “No, you listen to me, Cordelia! I want to know what’s going on and I want to know now! This is my best friend that’s involved, and I will do anything to help her out! Now, what do Angel, Spike, and Riley know that I don’t? What happened to Willow?!”

At the mention of Willow, Cordelia’s face instantly closed off, and she glared ferociously at Xander. “Get out of my house now, or I swear I will call the cops, you little freak!”

Xander glared right back, refusing to move, but despite the anger in his eyes, his voice was oddly calm when he spoke – so calm that it was actually scary. “Tell me, Cordelia.”

***

Giles raised his eyebrows high upon seeing Buffy standing at his door once more, recovering from his shock. “I mean, uh – you certainly are brave, Ms. Summers – returning to the scene of the crime.”

For a moment, Buffy flashed back to the last time she’d seen the librarian, him watching as Spike roughly shoved her out of the house, and blushed. “Um, I – well…”

Giles smiled warmly at her, “It’s all right, Ms. Summers. I understand what happened was an accident. I presume you’re here about the fight?”

She nodded briefly. “Riley wouldn’t tell me why.”

Giles nodded, stepping aside and ushering her in as he did so. “Well… I’m afraid William isn’t really going to be able to help you in that manner, either.”

Buffy blinked in surprise. “What, you’re actually on his side? He just tried to beat up my boyfriend for no reason!”

Giles nodded, and took his glasses off, wiping them clean with a handkerchief from his pocket. “B-be that as it may, Ms. Summers – ”

“Buffy.”

He blinked. “Pardon?”

Buffy shrugged, “Buffy – my name’s Buffy. It makes me feel like I should be wearing a hoopskirt or something when you call me Ms. Summers.”

Giles chuckled, “Buffy it is then. Er, Buffy… I’ll let William tell you what he can, but let me just say now; he takes his promises very seriously, and it won’t be wise for you to try to force him to break one.” He grinned suddenly, replacing his glasses on his face. “Of course you’re already well acquainted with his temper.”

Buffy frowned, somewhat confused, but nodded. “Okay… Thanks for the tip, Mr. Giles.”

He nodded again, “He’s in his room.”

***

Spike opened his bedroom door with a small smile on his face; it disappeared the moment he saw who was standing in front of him. “Oh, bloody hell.”

He turned and, leaving the door open, walked farther back into his room, heading for the desk where he picked up several pieces of drawing paper and slid them into a drawer, before sitting backwards on his desk chair, raising an eyebrow at her.

Buffy took the not-slammed door as an invitation and walked further into his room, awkwardly perching on the corner of his bed. “Um… hi.” She smiled weakly at him, but Spike just rolled his eyes.

“Relax Barbie, all valuables are safely stored away. Here to defend your boy-toy, I’m guessing?”

Buffy blinked. “What – no! And he’s not my boy-toy. And, uh, I’m still sorry about…” She trailed off upon seeing that Spike was, once again, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, um, I’m here about the fight – and earlier today when Riley dragged you off to that weird pow-wow. I want to know what’s going on.”

Spike grinned mirthlessly, and leaned forward on the back of his chair. “Yeah, right… Well sorry luv, but frankly I don’t care what you want. Is that all? Great – buh-bye!”

He jerked his head toward the door, but Buffy just crossed her arms. “I want to know, Spike. He’s been my boyfriend for a year tomorrow, and he still won’t tell me. Mr. Giles told me you could tell me something – even if he kinda changed the subject – and I want to know what that something is. This affects me just as much as anybody – I deserve to know.”

Spike remained silent for a moment, thinking it over. Much as he hated to admit it, even to himself – Buffy had a point. Sure, she wasn’t nearly as affected as Willow or the three other people involved in threatening her – but she was affected, and probably deserved to know. And it wasn’t like he’d be telling her anything she didn’t know already. She probably just didn’t know that Spike knew – which was why she was confused about the fight.

It didn’t cross his mind to wonder if that was so, why Riley didn’t just tell her. He would never have considered that Buffy didn’t already know what was going on with Willow – after all, her entire group of close friends was involved, including her boyfriend. Why wouldn’t she know?

Spike sighed. “Fine. Bloody hell,” he groaned and wiped his hands across his face, closing his eyes for a moment, before he opened them and looked back at the expectant Buffy. “Right. So… what’s going on with me and your lot of idiots,” He frowned.

“Basically, I found them doin’ that thing you love to do with Willow the other day, and stopped them; I’m sure they told you all about that.” Spike didn’t notice Buffy shaking her head; he was looking at the floor as he spoke. “So today your Ken blowup was apparently feeling guilty – probably why he didn’t tell you – and warned me about that other wanker planning on beatin’ me up. Not a big problem – but he also trashed my car, the direct consequences of which were what happened in the cafeteria. Happy now?” There. Spike thought he’d phrased it perfectly; he hadn’t actually told Buffy what was going on with Willow, and therefore didn’t break his promise – but at the same time, he had let her know what was going on.

Or so he thought.

“Huh? No, I’m not happy – I’m totally confused! What ‘thing we love to do with Willow’? I think I’ve only ever talked to her like, twice! What exactly did Riley do that he had to feel so guilty about? Angel trashed your car? But if it was Angel, why’d you attack Riley too? And… just what exactly is going on?”

Spike blinked, and lifted his gaze, staring at Buffy in shock. “You… don’t know.”

She nodded, “Well duh, that’s what I’ve been saying!”

“No,” Spike was still staring at her, eyes wide. “You don’t know. Nothing. Nothing at all?”

Buffy looked affronted, “Well, by now I’d say I know some things… But what’s going on right now? No. Why?”

Spike cocked his head to the side, studying her intently. “Oh, no reason. It just completely changes my opinion of you, that’s all.” He frowned, speaking almost to himself. “But… why wouldn’t they tell you? Did they think you’d rat them out?”

Buffy raised her eyebrows, but didn’t say anything. Spike stared at her a moment longer before snapping out of his daze and clearing his throat. “Right… Well… Sorry if you don’t understand, but I’ve told you all I can.”

Buffy groaned. “Oh, great. You were a big help.”

Spike glared at her. “Yeah well, at least I tried to tell you something, which is more than your boyfriend did – and I don’t even like you.”

Buffy huffed, but didn’t respond. “Well… This was nice… Not at all helpful and really confusing, but nice – even if you won’t tell me anything actually useful… But I’ve got to go.”

She stood from Spike’s bed, and he quickly stood up too, walking over to her. “Listen, Bar- Buffy.” He looked very uncomfortable, which in turn made Buffy feel nervous. She swallowed when he stepped closer and lowered his voice, even though there was no danger of anyone overhearing them.

“Buffy,” he said, very seriously, “I would like to tell you what’s going on; I really would – but I can’t. I’m sorry, because I know that this affects you a lot and if Riley won’t tell you anything then it’s not likely anyone else will. But I really can’t tell you, no matter how much I want to. I… promised not to tell anyone.”

Buffy had already opened her mouth to speak, but at that she paused, remembering Giles’ earlier statement: “…he takes his promises very seriously, and it won’t be wise for you to try to force him to break one.” Suddenly understanding the warning and why he’d given it to her, she stopped herself from acting on her first impulse, which was to encourage him to break his promise if he obviously wanted to that much, and tell her anyway. Instead, she bit her lip and sighed, but nodded.

“…Okay. Thanks for, you know, making the effort anyway.”

Spike blinked – then grinned, shaking his head. “Gotta say, Summers, you haven’t ceased to surprise me yet. Rupes tell you ‘bout me and promises?”

Buffy correctly guessed that ‘Rupes’ was the school librarian and nodded, blushing sheepishly. Spike just grinned, chuckling a little, and suddenly Buffy noticed how close they were standing. And that, really, Spike had a very nice laugh, all deep and throaty, and his eyes looked really blue from this angle – she was pretty sure she’d never seen eyes that blue before – and he wasn’t really laughing anymore, instead just looking down at her with a slightly confused face. And – they were actually standing even closer now, though she wasn’t sure how that happened, but his lips were really, really close now, and…

Buffy snapped out of her daze, jolting back, face blushing bright red as she realized what had just almost happened. She looked down at the floor, refusing to meet Spike’s gaze as she quickly shuffled around him to the door. He almost let her go – but at the last second, his hand shot out and caught her arm, gripping it tightly and stopping her from escaping.

Buffy cast the door one last desperate glance before Spike spun her back around to face him, one eyebrow raised questioningly as he took in the blush staining her cheeks. And it certainly wasn’t helping said blush to have him still holding her arm – his grip felt hot against her bare skin, and Buffy had to swallow repeatedly before she managed to ask defensively, “What?”

Spike’s eyebrow rose higher, but at a glare and pointed jerk from Buffy, he let go of her arm. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d stopped her from leaving – all he knew was that he could’ve sworn she was about to kiss him earlier.

“Uh… nothing,” he muttered, realizing he really didn’t have a good reason for stopping her. She’d come here for information, and gotten it; or as much of it as he was willing and able to give, anyway. Why should he want her to stay any longer? He didn’t like her anyway. He just felt sympathetic about this whole deal. That was all.

“Just…” he hesitated, but it wasn’t really breaking his promise, so he went ahead and said, “Look, if you really want answers, I’d suggest Willow Rosenberg – but you better be damn nice to her, and if she doesn’t want to talk, you leave her alone, got it?”

Buffy nodded silently, a small smile on her face – and then she was gone, leaving only a very confused Spike behind her.

He sighed, and flopped back on his bed, arms crossed behind his head. He didn’t like Buffy Summers one bit. She was the classic stuck-up, rich bitch, with no qualms about using anyone to get what she wanted, him and Willow included.

…Except she’d apologized pretty sincerely for breaking his locket, and her house wasn’t exactly a mansion from what he’d seen, and he hadn’t actually seen her do anything that really qualified as very bitchy, and she hadn’t even known about the Willow thing, and she’d backed off when he told her he’d made a promise…

Spike groaned, letting his eyes fall closed and kneading his fists into the sockets so hard that little purple and red lines shone against the black of his eyelids. Face it, Spike, he thought, you are well and truly screwed.

***

Buffy had decided to follow Spike’s advice, and as a result headed directly to Willow’s house after leaving his. She only even knew the girl’s address because Faith was friends with her, but luckily, it wasn’t too far away, and so she had reached the house in a matter of minutes.

And stopped to stare in shock.

The Rosenberg’s ‘house’ could more accurately be called a mansion – something that took Buffy completely by surprise. She hadn’t ever really thought about it, but now she realized she’d always sort of assumed that Willow, along with the rest of her sister’s friends (also known as the reject table in the cafeteria) were, if not poor, then at best middle-class.

Realizing her unconscious prejudice now, she blushed, feeling ashamed. Not all rich people were popular. Most of the people who were popular had earned it in some way; by being a star on the football team, or a cheerleader, or having really good taste in clothes, or being rich…

Buffy suddenly realized how shallow her thoughts were turning and flushed even more – then groaned, annoyed at how much she seemed to be blushing today. Which, of course, made her think of the last thing that had made her blush, which was Spike and how she’d nearly –

Okay, she was not doing this right now. Buffy literally shook the thoughts out of her head, then, with a determined nod to herself, strode forward and pressed the doorbell.

Then, because she felt a little fidgety, and the Rosenbergs had some sort of chime rather than a traditional doorbell which sounded somewhat hypnotic, she pressed it again.

And again.

And again.

And – “Aah!” Buffy jumped back when the door suddenly swung open to reveal an annoyed-looking Willow Rosenberg, already speaking.

“I told you to stop with the doorbell, Xander, just because it –” Willow froze mid-sentence, jaw dropping at the sight of one of the most popular people in the school standing in front of her, with a determined glint in her hazel eyes.

Willow’s award-winning brain immediately jumped to several conclusions:

a) Buffy had come on behalf of her boyfriend, and ex-boyfriend, and best friend, and was here to exact revenge for the fight Spike had gotten into with them – even though it wasn’t really Willow’s fault, as he’d told her when she’d called him in tears earlier, saying, “Red, the buggers went after my car. And they did it ‘cause I stood up to them – which would’ve happened anyway. At most you just sped the whole process up; no, they did. They were the ones doin’ the harassin’, after all. None of this was your fault, so stop obsessin’ about it.”

b) Buffy had come on Faith’s behalf, most likely because her mother was within earshot when the question was posed, which meant she most likely had something to give Willow, and didn’t mean any harm but was just annoyed at running her twin’s mail service.

And, because she was Willow and hung out with Xander too much, she thought of a third possibility, c) Buffy had found out about her frog fear and had come to unleash a horde of the evil little slimy monsters into her house.

Luckily, Willow was smart enough to realize just how unlikely this last possibility was, but the images alone made her face tighten with fear as she stepped back into the house – something that Buffy noticed and apparently thought she caused, because she instantly lost her warrior-like stance, instead attempting a placating smile.

“No! No! I-It’s not what you… Wait, what do you think?”

Willow mouthed silently for a few moments, then magically regained her smile and swallowed hard. If Buffy was trying to be semi-nice, then maybe options a and c were out of the question…

“Come on in.”

***

Willow had just gotten Buffy into the living room, when the phone rang and she dashed out of the room, thanking God for the excuse to leave the tense, awkward silence behind. Especially the look Buffy got whenever she looked at Willow – a slightly sick, worried expression that didn’t really bode well for anyone.

“Hello?” Willow pressed her back against the wall, breathing deeply on air that had no scary popular twins-of-really-good-in-fact-best-female-friend’s sisters in its vicinity.

“Red, it’s Spike.” Willow’s brows knit; she wasn’t sure why Spike would be calling, especially sounding so worried, but she remained silent as he continued, “I told Faith’s sis to go talk to you. I’m sorry pet, but I thought she knew what was going on and then apparently she had no idea and I thought that maybe she might not actually be as big of a – I mean, I thought that – she actually… What I’m saying is, she’ll probably be there soon, but I didn’t give her any details, I swear, and I told her to leave if it even looked like you didn’t want to talk to her, but if you want me to come back you up, I can be right there –”

It wasn’t often that Willow heard other people babbling, especially not people that were normally as cool and calm as Spike, so for a while she just listened in fascination, but upon hearing that he was considering driving over, she finally interrupted him. “Spike… Spike!”

He paused, then there was a long moment of embarrassed silence before he cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

Willow couldn’t contain a little giggle at his obvious humiliation, but she quickly sobered, asking, “She really didn’t know? I always thought she just didn’t like, you know… doing the dirty work, or something.”

Spike made a negative sound. “Nn-nnh. She didn’t know a bloody thing, and gotta say – right now she’s incredibly confused. Enough so that she came to ask me what was going on, ‘cause her boy wouldn’t tell her.”

Willow sucked in a sympathetic breath, “Ouch… that had to hurt. They’ve been dating for…”

“…A year tomorrow, yeah I heard. Look Red, I’m sorry luv, I just thought she should know – but it’s your secret, I got that.”

Willow shook here head, even though Spike couldn’t see. “No. No, it’s not really mine anymore. I dragged you into this, and now it’s just spreading everywhere. I mean, they attacked your car and then you got in a huge fight and Buffy’s asking all these questions…”

“You still don’t have to tell her, pet.”

Willow bit her lip, determinedly. “No, I… I think I do. Which means that I should probably tell other people. Like maybe report it. And tell Oz and Xander and Faith. But…” She sighed, “I really don’t want any more fights.”

Spike suddenly laughed, “I sure as hell do! That was the most bloody fun I’ve had in a while.” That made Willow smile, and before it faded, Spike continued, “Besides, we could take ‘em, easy. Faith’s bloody good in a fight, and your boy looks like he’s got some wolf in him, just waiting to get out, and Harris…” Willow could hear the puzzled frown in his voice as he continued, “He could… Harris could…” Suddenly, Spike’s voice sounded triumphant. “Got it! Harris could deal with that blonde bubblehead. Faith and the cheerleader catfight, Oz can go after whichever rugby-wannabe asshole he prefers, I take the other one, and Harris gets the blonde idiot.”

Willow nearly choked. “Harmony? Oh my… I can actually picture that… It would be such a slap-fight…” She began giggling uncontrollably at the mental image, and it was several minutes before she could finally compose herself enough to say goodbye and hang up the phone.

Then her grin faded away as she realized just what she was about to do, and she took several deep breaths in preparation before walking into her living room.

***

Buffy stared. Then blinked, and stared some more.

“Y-you can’t be serious.” Disbelief was written all over her face – had been ever since Willow began to speak. “I mean, I thought maybe it was something bad, but… Riley wouldn’t ever threaten anyone! And Cordy can be… mean, but she would never just say stuff like that! And Angel – no, he wouldn’t do that either!”

Willow bit her lip, but didn’t say a thing.

Buffy was reeling. And yes, she was denying this now, but after the day’s events, she knew it had to be the truth. But… she just couldn’t believe her sweet, lovable boyfriend would actually threaten someone. It was just impossible!

But then, she’d already been wrong about so many things lately…

Buffy stood, clenching her hands so tightly that the knuckles turned white. “Excuse me,” she told Willow calmly, “I need to go think about this.”

Willow nodded, still looking worried. “Okay… but, B-Buffy – no one knows about this. Not even Faith. Please don’t tell her. I’m going to… but I want to do it myself.”

Buffy blinked in surprise. “But Spike knows.”

Willow smiled. “Yeah. He walked in on it. And… he’s kind of hard to keep a secret from.”

Buffy found herself smiling too, and nodding somewhat wistfully, before she knew what she was doing. “Yeah… Uh, I mean, I won’t tell anybody. I promise. Bye.”

She left quickly, before she could do something else entirely out of character, like telling Willow that she was sorry.

***

“What did you do to Willow?”

Cordelia gulped, looking nervously around her. Sure, she might not be afraid of Xander Harris normally, but just because he was a geek didn’t mean he couldn’t hit her. He might; after all, he had just come barging into her house, and he’d never done anything like that before.

Then she realized that she, Cordelia Chase, was actually cowering in front of the schools biggest geek, and straightened proudly. “What, you don’t know?”

Xander just glared, and Cordelia laughed. “You don’t know! That’s a laugh! You and Tree have been best friends since you were born, practically, but she doesn’t trust you enough to tell you when we’re bothering her! That’s gotta sting, huh?”

“Shut up, Cordy.” Xander was glaring at her, but doubt flickered in his eyes. Cordelia saw it and seized her chance.

“No, you shut up, Xander Harris. If your little friend doesn’t like you enough to tell you what’s going on, then don’t come and whine to me about it!”

“You – you did something to her.” Xander’s voice was suddenly less certain. Cordelia smirked.

“Yeah. That’s right. Me and my boys were just soo mean to poor little Leaf, so she ran off to cry in the corner and didn’t tell you about it. Poor Xander, all left out…” Cordelia advanced on Xander, and he retreated, all of his rage and determination suddenly leaving him.

“You know what, Xander, if you’re that upset about what you think happened, why don’t you go talk to your ‘friend’? I’m sure she’ll be willing to talk about it! I mean, it’s not like she’s keeping it a secret or anything, right?” Cordelia yanked the front door open and pointed out of it. “Go.”

Staring at her, Xander actually listened, his eyes wide and his head reeling. Everything Cordelia was saying was true… Willow hadn’t told him. But why? Did she think he wouldn’t care? Did she really not like him? Why couldn’t she tell him? They told each other everything.

He blinked when the door slammed in his face, and he heard Cordelia’s laughter behind it, but strangely, it failed to produce any kind of anger in him. Who cared if she was laughing at him? He had much bigger worries.

Like Willow, not trusting him.

Willow. His best friend since before he could remember. The person he was closest to in all the world. The only person who knew the full truth about his home life. The person who knew him better than he knew himself. The girl he’d always viewed as a sister. And she didn’t trust him.

Xander turned, and walked away, his heart sinking further with every step.