The main hallway was once again packed to the brim, various groups instantly melding into the lockers as she passed. The heels of her sneakers scuffed along the dull tile floor causing small squeaks to raise eyebrows of her supposed betters. It was common knowledge that she didn’t really belong with the Aurelius gang.
In their eyes, Buffy was nothing more than a nerd who by some miraculous chance had convinced Angel and Spike that she was worth something. For the majority, they tolerated her because there was no other option.
It was simply not allowed to abuse anyone from Aureli’s gang; especially any of the women. The only thing worse than ignoring such members was to try and take what was theirs… in the case of Spike, his greatest possession was seen to be Buffy. Unless you were the leader of your own gang, women were considered to be the belongings of their partners. Buffy rolled her eyes in anger at the whole situation. If Angel had ever tried to take her as his officially, no gangs or rules would have stopped her from saying no. The only reason she tolerated the idea of being Spike’s was mainly because he did not treat her like an object to be paraded around. She meant something to him.
If only I knew what.
The first sign that people were slightly afraid was the way their eyes flickered away when she tried to look them in the eyes.
The second and perhaps worst was the haughty glares from those who tried to intimidate back.
Buffy threw her bag to the ground roughly as Harmony all but barreled into her. She had thought that the ditzy girl would have learned to leave her alone but obviously not. People around them moved to the sides, some amused whilst others looked on in distaste. Harmony was being far too sickeningly simpering for anybody to believe it.
The petite blonde opened her locker, relishing the sight of books and useless paper as an escape. Soon the bell would ring and she’d be able to extricate herself from the idiot who was now babbling in her ear. Pudgy arms grabbed hold of her waist for a moment in a false hug before Buffy pushed away the clinging arms with distaste. Everything about her is so fake.
Harmony obviously did not register Buffy’s anger or loathing, grinning down at the other blond. “I’m so happy that you finally came to school Elizabeth!” She waved a hand at Buffy’s surprise, unaware that the petite blond was amazed that Harmony could work out where her nickname came from. “Is it okay that I call you that? I know we got off to a bad start, with me calling you a freak ever since you enrolled at this school but I’m sure that we can overcome that – since now you’ve become cool!” Her fake smile full of impossibly white teeth, if possible widened even further.
Where does she get the oxygen to talk this quickly? thought Buffy deploringly. The girl did not once take a breath except to grin, making her wonder whether Harmony believed that they were stuck in a beauty pageant. It would explain the incessant flourishes of her hands, complete with bright pink fake nails and the dull glimmer of heavily plastered mascara.
Buffy wanted to scream when once more Harmony reached for her shoulders, deciding not to bother with pleasantries anymore. She had never had to deal with this in LA and certainly wasn’t about to start now. No one would’ve dared to try this back then.
Luckily for Harmony, Willow at that moment emerged from among the mass of people who had eagerly been watching the confrontation. The long red hair today was slung back into a prim and proper ponytail, the plaid and colours of brown and tan doing nothing for her appearance. If given the right attire, Willow could be a bombshell, making men like Angel desperate to rid her of that innocent virtue.
Perhaps that was why she insisted on the tweed outfit. It kept her safe from the conflict that erupted over other girls in the school.
Normally meek and shy, the red head nerd wasted no time in sidestepping around Harmony and firmly placing the fool behind her. Indignant sputters and murmurs of surprise could be heard from all around them as the crowd regarded Willow’s brave move. She had been bullied mercilessly and never once showed any sign of retaliation.
Her actions were completely unprecedented.
Plastering a cherry smile onto her face, Willow winked at Buffy, knowing that everyone could hear their conversation. “Did you kill that guy yet or what?” The shoes, black and neat with buckles nervously knocked against each other, the only sign that her friend was nervous. “I heard that he was always harassing you and it was just a matter of time before he ended up all you know…” Willow made an exaggerated movement of being hung by a noose to fill in the end of her sentence.
Buffy could only shake her head in the negative, not having a clue what Willow was talking about but certain that if the red head didn’t explain she would wig. What does she think she’s doing?” Buffy tuned out to the rest of her best friend’s comments as she realised that their audience had all but dispersed. Even Harmony is gone for once.
The two girls shared a look of pure happiness, Buffy grabbing her books from the dingy locker and then walking off to class.
As long as she had Willow she would be okay.
***
The first two classes of Biology and Chemistry barely made themselves known except as extended periods of boredom. Willow, of course, sat in the front, taking notes eagerly into a bulging folder that Buffy was sure contained every sentence Mrs. Elms had ever said. She could even picture the red head’s writing:
”the cell is central to the body’s survival” – pause, deep breath – “pay attention Jeremy! This isn’t a class which you can afford to ignore. As I was saying…”
Buffy rolled her eyes as the bell finally went. She really needed to start doing the homework if she was imagining what Willow was copying down. The whole thing was too ridiculous, but the petite blond knew that she would end up sneaking a peek into the neat, cursive writing of Willow Rosenberg. The opportunity for a friendly tease was too good to pass up.
Now she sat in the classroom devoted to English, her teacher, a thin brittle woman who resembled a bird. Buffy didn’t even bother responding to the customary greeting, knowing that the whole thing was a waste of time. The notion of an ordinary life, free from the perils of her family history or involvement with yet another gang, had long since been dismissed.
Buffy could never be just a normal girl.
When did I stop caring? she wondered.
Mrs. Martin snapped at the class to take a seat, deciding to not remark on Buffy who already was lounging in a chair, looking positively bored out of her mind. The teacher just glared. They all knew that she didn’t want to be there anymore than the staff wanted to be surrounded by future crime lords and their mistresses. The marks that they gave out were half the time determined by the unspoken threat that would befall any teacher stupid enough to fail an Aurelius member. The small brunette only held her tongue because she had seen the small healing wound on Buffy’s neck. She would fall into real trouble if she dared to ignore such an obvious mark.
As if on cue Spike strolled into the classroom ten minutes later, not bothering to give an excuse for his tardiness. The duster billowed behind him, tight clothing emphasising the firm muscles which lay beneath his shirt. More than one girl looked him up and down longingly before darting nervous glances back at Buffy. She had been known as a nerd but the girl must of done something to warrant such devotion from Spike Giles. If the petite blond had been declared as Angel’s girl they would have assumed that her looks had been the major factor but Spike was different.
Buffy looked down at her notebook with a grin as the other girls turned their stares downwards. I wish I could make Willow lie like that more often. The red head’s tale was certain to keep Harmony away for at least a week.
This is paradise.
She moved her foot which had been skimming along the floor to the leg of the chair next to her, hoping that Spike would sit next to her. The legs made a large screech which quickly drew the Brit's attention. Buffy cringed only slightly at the sound, aware that her own chair was capable of making the same awful sound. If she was forced to linger in the stifling classroom then Buffy was going to make certain that Spike had the displeasure of sitting down also.
The metal sides of her seat dug into her back, causing a small groan to escape. Sunnydale High did not have a great deal to offer in terms of classrooms and utensils but they did have an amazing ability as a whole to overlook the odd objects in a student’s clothes or weird phone calls.
The platinum hair of Spike coupled with his larger than life attitude was just another issue that the administration was more than happy to disregard.
The biting remarks of the teacher as she announced that the class would be studying poetry were added to by groans from the people around her. Spike, she noted also made the customary noises of discontentment as he walked down the aisle. Despite this, the comments were not anywhere close to the usual contempt the bleached blond was known to show if something really irked him. Buffy bit her pen, gnawing on the top as she considered this new fact. Poetry and Spike seemed to be completely opposite but there was obviously a link there. She promised to find out what it was before the end of the day. Her attention turned once more to the blackboard as the man sat down beside her, nudging her foot with his army boots in acknowledgement.
The Brit had smirked when he saw the empty seats surrounding Buffy. They must have known that he wouldn’t like another git going near her, particularly after the events with Riley. His gift to Parker had spread through not only the high school like wild fire, but also throughout the town.
He couldn’t suppress the urge to crow his victory. Let the stupid ponce look after Captain Cardboard, he thought victoriously. Maybe it will stop him from being such an utter wanker.
Spike’s hand gently stroked Buffy’s, feeling a wave of relief flow through him when she didn’t reject his touch. The lesson blurred in his ears, the chipped black nail polish on his hand holding more interest than Mrs. Martin who was lecturing on the aesthetic qualities of poetry. Spike snorted with contempt. The woman would know a decent sonnet if it bit her on the arse. Azure eyes rolled backwards in annoyance when another student suggested that they should create their own poetry rather than listen to “some dead guy’s writing.”
The Brit only needed to recall his own attempts to instantly disagree with the idea.
“Oi!” Spike waved his hand from the back of the class, unable to help curling his tongue behind his teeth at the look Mrs. Martin gave him. “Why don’t you just tell us who we’ll be bloody well studying? I for one have no wish to listen to sodding nancy boys dribble on about cheerleaders and their bleeding pom poms.” His voice dripped with sarcasm as he spoke, a few of the aforementioned ‘nancy boys’ cringing in their seats. Serves them right.
Spike jerked his focus away the next moment, shrugging halfheartedly in an attempt to be innocent as Buffy swatted his arm.
“What?”
“You know what” hissed Buffy, with just a slight hint of anger. “You’re being a big showoff!” Her hazel eyes glanced around them, making sure that no one was listening. “Was that really necessary?”
“Not really, but it was funny.” Spike chuckled before spying a glance at his girl. Her expression was like a dark storm cloud, all too similar to the one he had spotted in the car while his music played.
Best to keep quiet.
Wisely, Spike decided to stay silent, and instead pulled out his notebook, sketches of her face gracing the inner pages. He realised as soon as he opened the cover that he had picked the wrong one and cursed himself as Buffy openly perused the pages. Rather than looking at him in disgust or mockery which the Brit was completely prepared for, the girl instead leaned over further, forgetting that just a minute before she had been berating him.
It appeared that the Big Bad could draw.
“Angel’s far better at it” said Spike gruffly. His eyes which had before sparkled with mischief now were full of self consciousness, slightly embarrassed that he had shown her. It didn’t matter that it had been accidental. She’s going to think you’re a right ponce now William. He waited for her to make a comment, utterly ignoring the teacher when she threw a question in their direction. “Please say something pet.”
The petite blond barely heard Spike’s murmur, tracing the lines with her fingers.
It took Buffy a few minutes of studying the paper before she finally comprehended that he had spoken. “They’re wonderful Spike.” Her eyes glimmered, amazed that anyone, let alone Spike Giles had studied her face so intimately and then been able to reproduce it. The Brit had captured every feature including the slight upturn of her nose and the slight pout that sometimes formed when annoyed.
Spike merely shook his head awkwardly. “They’re only drawings” he muttered. “I could never draw you perfectly.” He brushed a blond lock away from her face not caring at the open stares which followed each moment. “Nothing could ever do justice to your beauty Buffy. You’re effulgent.”
He smiled at the way her face quirked at the odd description, surprised himself that he had used such a word. That type of speech had always been more of a William mannerism than Spike. For such a manifestation of what the bleached blond regarded as his poncier side to occur, could only mean one thing. I’m really weakening around her.
***
Willow swung her hands listlessly, mulling over the day’s events. She had been surprised at the ease with which Spike and Buffy interacted, their actions and words not even really needing explanation before the other would respond accordingly. Her best friend could complain all she wanted about them not being connected and the bleached blond hiding his secrets away, Willow didn’t think it really mattered. Their relationship was cemented even without the confessions.
Buffy is so lucky.
The entirety of English had been spent sneaking glances back at the enraptured pair, the entire class taking turns. There was something so pure and interesting in their involvement with each other that not many could bother to pretend that they weren’t intrigued. Willow chose to ignore the fact that half the students would later report the events to one of Parker’s lackeys.
That was something she was privileged enough to forget about.
The long red hair which seemed to cascade down her back swayed gently from side to side as she walked. Willow had tried to go for a more risqué look but ended up wrenching her hair free from its confinement. Besides, she thought wistfully, Xander always said that he liked it down. Her heart seemed to beat faster for a second as she remembered the way the brunette boy had looked at her during his time in Sunnydale. His parents were drunkards and had moved to Sunnydale in order to escape debt collectors and the like. Xander, otherwise known as Alexander Lavelle Harris had enrolled himself at the high school and made instant friends with her.
Buffy knew very little about him, beyond the fact that Willow was hopelessly in love with the man and almost guaranteed never to see him again. After Xander had decided that he liked Cordelia, his fate had been sealed.
Angel did not accept anyone moving in on his territory.
What had followed had been nothing short of an execution; the large muscled gang leader making sure that Xander not only lost any chances with Cordelia but also any relative safety. Aureli and his thugs had hounded the smaller man, beating him mercilessly in his home and then later wounding him with the intent of murder.
Willow didn’t know how Buffy could stand to live in the same house as the monster.
The call to the hospital had been the red head’s only warning that Xander had been injured yet again. They had both thought that in time Angel would simply leave him alone and recognise that Xander was no threat whatsoever. She realised on hindsight that the gang leader would only loose face if not making her crush an example of.
His actions if anything only caused the brooding man to gain more notoriety; a cruel trade considering that Xander lost all sight in his left eye.
Willow shuddered, wrapping her arms more firmly around herself. The police had not even bothered to investigate how a knife had managed to imbed itself in his eye socket. That would’ve only caused trouble for Angel. Instead, to her horror and disgust, Xander had claimed that he had done it, trying to commit suicide. She would always remember the hard stare he gave her as people rushed into the room demanding answers.
Willow still felt guilty about keeping silent.
The odd tuft of grass drew her mind away from the horrible memories, the red head veering up a driveway after five minutes of brisk walking. The pavement she had traversed trailed on for another three blocks, nondescript houses being the only main feature. She breathed deeply for a moment before walking inside her home. The door creaked slightly as she moved over the threshold but no other sound could be heard. Willow sighed in relief, bounding up the stairs and into her room with energy not usually demonstrated. It was needed if she wanted to escape their questions.
The small girl launched herself onto the single bed, winking at her tank full of fish and then flopping onto her back.
Finally I’m home.
Her entire body slumped as the tension from the day waxed away. Thank God I got back in time. Willow knew that if she missed the call she would never forgive herself. It had been so long since she had last seen him, let alone heard his voice. The ringing of the phone on the bedside table caused a shiver fo excitement to course through the girl’s body, Willow jumping up from the bed before grabbing it. Her fingers shook in nervousness, numbly punching the ‘speak’ button.
“Hello?”
Xander’s warm baritone sounded on the other hand, exactly the same as before. “Hey Wills. How is my favourite girl?”
She blushed, biting back the desire to ask whether she really was his favourite. Xander was the only boy she had ever been truly interested in. “I’m fine”, she replied nervously. “How are you?”
“Good. I was wondering whether I could ask a favour…” There was a tinge of desperation to his tone but Willow ignored it.
What could be the harm?
“Sure Xander, I’d tell you anything.” Willow laid back on the bed, her heart thumping madly at the joy that she was talking to him. Xander had never hurt her in the years that she had known him, it was impossible to think he would now. “Ask away Harris, I’m waiting.”
Willow grinned as she heard a rustling of paper from his end of the phone. He probably wants to know how to do a homework question, she thought naively. A warm glow suffused her at the notion of the man calling her for something so simple. It would be typical of Xander. His next words shocked her to the core.
“What do you know about Buffy Summers?”
Willow gaped for a moment, mouth hanging open in mimicry of her fish. She had no idea how he knew anything about her best friend but was instantly worried.
“Why do you care?” she asked.
Xander laughed good naturedly. “Just curious Willow. Some of her family lives in LA and wondered what has been happening with her in Sunnydale.” He chuckled, trying to put the girl at ease. “I promised them that I would find out. You wouldn’t want me to go back on my promise would you?”
Willow shook her head, “no, of course not…” She swore she could hear the glee that her words gave Xander and shuddered. If Buffy finds out, she’ll never forgive me. She told me not to talk about her to other people. The red head bit her lip anxiously as Xander’s voice once more sounded over the line. He was getting impatient.
“You swear you won’t tell anyone but her family?”
The man answered in the affirmative, reminding her of their friendship. “On the yellow crayon, I promise not to tell any other person” he replied.
Willow nodded before spilling all the information that she knew concerning her best friend. She would only realise much later that she had sold Buffy’s safety to the devil, and thus brought trouble for the whole of Sunnydale.
And all for the memory of a yellow crayon.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I was overwhelmed by the amazing amount and quality of reviews for my last chapter. Thank you to everyone who replied, it restored my faith that this fanfic is not boring the hell out of everyone. The next chapter which I PROMISE will be posted tomorrow will contain utter Spuffy and a rather shocking parallel against Faith, Parker and Dru. This chapter was difficult to write.