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


Chapter Two

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

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

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

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

Sunnydale beware, Buffy Summers is here.

………………………………………

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

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

“Apparently,” Oz agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

………………………

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…………

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

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

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

Suddenly, something poked her from behind.

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

Weird.

…………

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

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

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

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

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

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

…………

Buffy stared at his back with wide eyes.

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





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