The next morning at school, Buffy opened her locker and got out her books for Miss Beekman's class. Willow stood by her and, seeing the look on her face, was concerned.
"I mean, I just can't stop thinking about us," the blonde told her best friend. "And I can't help thinking that I've gotten the short end of the stick and he took off with my long end. I just want to take the stick away from him and stab him with it."
"Well, Buffy, maybe he's done being all evil and he'll come back to you," Willow said cheerfully. "Valentine's day is a day for lovers, and Angel might think twice about harming you and all."
"Uh-huh," Buffy said not convinced, "because killing Theresa last week and turning her into a vampire to send me a message was just a one-time thing."
"Well...maybe he won't," Willow said sheepishly. Both girls started walking toward Miss Beekman's class as the red headed girl tried again.
"Maybe you'll find another guy," she offered.
"I'd have to be looking for one to find one," Buffy said matter-of-factly, "and I'm so not with the lookage."
"So, if one came up to you and he was cute in a non-grrr..." Willow held up her hands and arms like claws then put them down again, "...sort of way, you wouldn't even introduce yourself?"
Buffy was thinking about cute guys all of a sudden. For a split second, none came to mind. Suddenly, unbidden, her thoughts inexplicably flew to a peroxide vampire with sexy, blue eyes, a snotty attitude, and a Cockney accent. She let her mind drift for a moment, picturing his lips on hers as their tongues fought for dominance. The Slayer shook away her thoughts. What in heaven's name was wrong with her?
XXXXXXXXXXX
A brunette beauty was having similar thoughts as she walked into the school wearing her Louis Vitton dress. Cordelia Chase was wondering what had possessed her to start dating the disaster that was Alexander Harris.
Forget that those two had absolutely nothing in common, except for their make-out fests. Forget that he was so not the kind of guy that one took home to one's richer-than-God parents. Why was she even letting him hang around her air space when she could have any boy she wanted?
Her friends, the Cordettes, were only too happy to reiterate and punctuate that point. Ever since Cordelia had started dating Xander they'd only been too happy to rub her face in it. This morning, though, they had sunk to new lows. They came through the same gate not behind her like they always had but several feet in front of her as though she was a virus they desperately didn't want to catch.
Cordy ran before them, shouting teasingly, "Hey! Where's the fire?"
Her friend, Harmony Kendall, gave a big show of noticing her for the first time. "Oh, it's you," she said almost disdainfully. "I didn't see you."
**Yeah, right,** Cordy thought, **if you didn't see me, then you need contacts!**
"Why didn't you give me the buzz on what you're all wearing for the dance at the Bronze tonight? I'm wearing red and black, the two power colors, so you'll have to wear something of the understated," Cordy told her friends.
"Oh," one of the Cordettes said snidely, "is that what your geek boyfriend likes?"
Cordelia didn't have to hear his name to know who they were talking about. "What's Xander got to do with this?" she asked, sticking her face out just a little and putting her hands on her hips.
"Well, you probably want to wear matching outfits so that you can be spotted easily in a crowd," Harmony joked, adding, "Mr. and Mrs. Puke!" The other girls tittered.
Cordy was stunned. Sure, she knew her friends wouldn't welcome Xander with welcome arms, but she didn't think it could be this bad! The dark haired girl let them walk on and went to her locker to check on her mascara. She couldn't afford to let them see how hurt she was. She had to do something, and fast. As she rounded the corner to Miss Beekman's classroom, Cordelia decided on her course of action and hoped it was the right one.
XXXXXXXX
The classroom was abuzz with talking about Valentine's day and what everyone was getting from their prospective partners. Some boys talked about getting nookie later; some talked about scoring even more than that. Girls showed their little presents or said how their boyfriends were gonna give them something great at the dance.
Buffy and Willow took their seats on either side of Amy, a deep blonde haired girl that the Slayer had befriended last year.
Willow waved at Amy, greeting, "Hey, Amy! How's it going?"
Amy smiled and waved back. She had always liked Willow. "Hey," she said. "Are you guys gonna be at the dance at the Bronze? It's gonna be fun, I can feel it."
Buffy looked across at Willow. The redhead was grinning from ear-to-ear. "Go ahead," Buffy told her, "you know you wanna say it."
"My boyfriend's in the band," Willow said proudly, "so yeah, I'll be there!"
"Coolness!" Amy said. "How about you?"
"Well..." Buffy said, "I was thinking about seeing who's available. You know, I'm too young to be tied down. Besides, Valentine's day is just a gimmick to sell cards and chocolates!"
Amy saw right through Buffy's slight tirade. "Bad breakup huh?" she inquired.
Buffy nodded, answering, "Believe me when I say, uh-huh."
She pictured feeding Angel some poisoned chocolates, or, since he didn't eat them, some tainted blood and watching him writhe in pain before turning to dust. The Slayer stole a look at Amy, thinking, **too bad I can't get her to help me.**
Another part of Buffy was egging her on, making her dream about the possibilities. Maybe a spell that would make the evil vampire see what he'd truly missed. It would be like a cheap movie, or something.
"Buffy," Angel would say in his deep voice as they embraced each other, "I'm sorry. I just want you back! I know it took awhile, and I know I can never completely regain your trust, but I'll do anything to prove myself to you...".
Before Buffy could continue her fantasy, the teacher said, "Okay, class, let's settle down. Now, about the papers on verbs and syntax: anyone who doesn't hand me one at the end of this period is looking at a failing grade. Trust me when I say that this will have incalculable consequences on your going into the next grade."
She fixed all of her students with a pointed look before continuing.
"I believe we were discussing present and past participles..." she said, writing on the blackboard.
The period droned on before the bell for the next class rang. Xander and half of the class woke up, earning a droll look from Miss Beekman.
She held her hand out expectantly for all of the papers, saying, "Hopefully this batch will be better than the first sets were during our first weeks together. If not, well..." she smiled evilly, "...there's always the test on word origins coming up later this year."
The students groaned, handing in their papers as Xander murmured at his desk that his paper was an upgrade from an "F" to a "D-plus".
Willow had handed in her paper and left; Amy got up and stood behind Xander; Buffy bringing up the rear.
Xander handed in his paper to Miss Beekman, who said, "I sure hope you've done better on this one, Mr. Harris."
Xander smirked, saying earnestly, "I think I can guarantee I've reached new mediocre heights this time."
The English teacher sighed softly, then turned her fat head toward Buffy and Amy, who were the last two students. Miss Beekman held out her hand for Amy's essay, but the deep blonde haired girl stared at her. Buffy watched as a blank look crossed the rotund woman's features, then she smiled as if she didn't have a care in the world.
"Thank you, Amy," she said, accepting a handful of air instead of a paper. Buffy looked nonchalant as Amy promptly walked out of the class. The Slayer gave the teacher her paper and hurried to catch up to Xander and Willow.
"Hey, did you guys see Amy work some witch stuff on Miss Beekman?" Buffy asked. She clutched her books close to her chest. "To quote my Mom, 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree'."
"No, we didn't see that," Xander responded. He wondered aloud, "maybe I could use that on me and Cordy's love life."
"Can you say 'amateur psycho's daughter'?" Willow shrieked. She lowered her voice when other students started staring and said lowly but dramatically, "Amy shouldn't really be messing with that stuff! I'd hate to think if she kept doing that and it became an addictive thing!"
"Maybe we should talk to Giles or something," Xander suggested.
"About our love lives?" Buffy asked. "I don't think so." Xander gave her a look.
Before Buffy or anyone said anything more, Rupert Giles emerged from the library, his face buried in a book. He glanced up at the three students and, as usual, wore a pensive expression.
"Buffy, may I have a word?" he asked.
Buffy shrugged, saying, "You may have a sentence, even."
Giles smiled haltingly at the Slayer's sense of humor. "Yes, well, I have something of great import..." he said, almost reaching his library.
Across the way, Jenny Calendar emerged from the computer room. She bumped into him on purpose.
"Rupert," she greeted, her dark eyes looking at the British man expectantly.
"Miss Calendar," Giles greeted perfunctorily.
He saw that she wore a pretty floral dress which brought out the darkness of her hair. She had also worn a perfume he favored; a scent of jasmine and honey. The librarian and Watcher forced himself to forget all of that and tried to see her for what she was: a betrayer of a young Slayer's dreams; a person who sold a formerly good vampire down the river. His eyes grew slightly misty as he thought about what they could have shared this Valentine's day, but then the ice crept into them.
"Rupert..." she began again, not daring to put a friendly hand anywhere on his person, "I was hoping we could talk about something."
Giles looked back at Buffy, saying, "Not just now. I have duties which command my attention at the moment."
Jenny's eyes were a little moist. She banked down her sadness, saying, "Yes, well, I guess I'll see you around."
She didn't wait for Giles' response before walking back into the computer room. Giles walked into the library; Buffy bringing up his rear looking back at the space Miss Calendar had vacated lest she come back.
When she did return briefly to see him go further away from her, the petite blonde glared at Jenny and crossed her arms. The older woman walked back into her room. Buffy walked into the library, leaving Xander and Willow looking between both rooms, each undecided whether to follow the Slayer and her Watcher or the Computer Teacher. Both friends decided to follow Buffy and Giles to see if there was any Earth shattering news.
"Buffy..." Giles began. Buffy's face had concern all over it.
"Are you doin' okay?" she asked the Englishman. Giles nodded.
"I'm fine," Giles tried to reassure her. "I'm always fine. It's you that I'm concerned about."
Buffy forced a smile, saying, "I'm fine, too." She pointed to her teeth, saying, "See...with the pearly whites? So what's the what? Is it Angel?"
"Yes, I'm afraid so," Giles responded, whipping out a red handkerchief and cleaning his glasses with it. "Ever since he reverted back to evil I have tried to read up on his past activities. I can say with no fear of repudiation that if the Olympic games had a category for making victims suffer, Angel would win a gold medal for his uniqueness."
Giles continued before anyone said anything, "He has a disturbing trend, especially around Valentine's day...".
"I wonder how he is around the Christmas holiday?" Xander asked, earning a glare from Giles.
"No matter the occasion, he likes to send what he terms brutal displays of affection," Giles went on. "To that end, Buffy, I think you should remain inside, at least for a few days."
The tension in the library thickened by several degrees as everyone contemplated what the evil Angelus' next move would be.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
The factory held a special type of charm for vampires residing there. There was a garden, several rooms which could be converted, and the windows, while big, were also high so that one could easily put thick curtains or some other sunlight blocking substance on them.
There was also plenty of room for King sized beds where a vampire could screw his significant other for hours. Unfortunately, that's just what Angelus did with Drusilla.
Spike wheeled around the room, angrily cursing whatever gods there were about Angel's return. He and Dru had been doing so well; then, the git had to throw in with them. The platinum blond revenant slammed a fist down on the table as Dru entered the room. He couldn't wait to pay Angelus back for messing on a daily basis with what was Spike's once he could walk again.
**Oh, yeah, you soddin' wanker,** Spike mentally promised, **you're gonna get yours, grand-sire or no grand-sire!**
"William's cross," Drusilla pronounced in that singsong of hers. She held Miss Edith close up to Spike's face, saying, "Bad Prince. Miss Edith doesn't like it when her mummy's knight in shining armor won't smile."
"Shut it, Dru!" Spike snapped.
Drusilla put the doll back on her bed and mewled softly. The platinum haired blond was instantly contrite. He reached behind him and pulled out an ornate velvet box.
"Sorry, pet," Spike said honestly. **This will fix it,** he mentally promised himself.
He experienced a moment's hesitation before giving the box to Drusilla. The former William the Bloody wanted Dru to like his gift so much that he thought he would throw himself on the Slayer's stake if she didn't.
**The Slayer...** Spike thought, picturing Buffy as she kicked and sliced through the air before staking some hapless vampire. It seemed he was thinking about her more and more these days, and he didn't like where his thoughts were going.
He forced himself to picture Dru instead; her long, dark hair bathed with moonlight; her pale breasts coaxing him to touch them in that sensitive spot she had.
He opened the box, asking, "Fancy it, pet?"
Inside lay a necklace of gold in the shape of a bat, with garnets making the top sparkle, and onyx decorating the bottom.
Drusilla was happy. She looked down at Spike, commenting, "ohh...it sparkles, like your eyes."
Spike smiled a superior grin, happy that he'd hit paydirt. "Nothin' but the best for my girl," he declared.
Drusilla presented her back to him and crouched so that he would be able to put on the necklace. Before Spike could put it on however, an object sailed through the air and landed on top of the velvet box.
Angelus strode boldly into the room, mirking. "Well," he said, "I see fun-on-wheels has finally emerged from his nap." Spike met his eyes with an angry stare.
"We were havin' a PRIVATE moment," the former poet said forcefully. "Do you mind?"
Angelus reached down and grabbed the necklace from the table. He put it around Dru's neck, murmuring, "Cute gift. I was trying to think of the best way I could show my devotion to you too, Dru. Then I got an inspiration: I wanted to give you my heart; well, actually, the heart that I found in a shop girl. But it's the thought that counts, eh, Dru?"
All three vampire's eyes flew to the heart on the table. Spike's lips curled with disgust. Dru was salivating, saying, "Ohh, Angel...it's warm."
"Yeah, nothing but the best for you, Dru," he repeated Spike's line with a touch of sarcasm.
Spike was seething at the way Angelus had turned his sentiments inside out. How dare he mess with Dru. How DARE he give Spike's Dark Princess a gift like that! If the platinum blond had color running in his pale face like a human's, Spike would have turned red as he showed his fury.
**The Slayer would have appreciated a trinket like that!** His traitorous mind supplied.
Spike let his mind go for a moment, wondering what the petite girl's body would be like in the moonlight had her clothes been removed. He saw her golden hair caressed by the silver rays and imagined running his fingers through her curls as they bounced back under his touch. Then he thought of another set of curls he wanted to run his digits through.
Spike groaned as he felt himself get hard. Angelus laughed as he caught a whiff of Spike's ever increasing desire. "Don't worry, Willy, m' boy," he jeered, fingering Dru's raven locks as he misinterpreted the reason for Spike's sexual craving. "I'll make sure that Dru's taken care of."
Drusilla reached out a hand to Spike, whose head flinched away from her touch. "Daddy deserves our respect, my William."
"For what?!" Spike roared. "For keepin' li'l miss Barbie doll alive, an' not killin' her?" He clapped slowly, mocking, "Well, hip, hip fucking hurray! You should be tearin' her lungs out, not lettin' her remain in the world of the livin'."
Angelus looked down at Spike and grabbed his face in a vice like grip so that the younger vampire was forced to stare at him. "For a former bard, you don't seem to grasp the flowery symmetry of leaving the best possible present for your girl," the dark haired vamp told Spike.
"How 'bout a sword in her gut?" Spike suggested, his temper getting more and more riled with each passing second. "Or, are you a coward when it comes to expressin' yourself?"
Drusilla's eyes flew to her childe. "You shouldn't say such things," Dru cautioned. "Daddy's always right."
Her eyes strayed to the heart, not giving the necklace any more thought.
"After all," she said, "Angel always knows what speaks to a girl's heart."
With that, the elder vamp picked up Drusilla and carried her to his bedroom. Spike looked down at the heart and, spying a dagger on the table, stabbed the offending thing with the knife. Fighting off angry tears, the blond rolled off toward his own room.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer: I don’t own any dialogue from Marti Nixon’s wonderful episode, nor do I own any of Joss Whedon’s characters. Just setting the record straight. Please read & review.