The days passed and eventually the looks thrown in Buffy’s direction lessened. She walked briskly through the halls, clutching her books against her chest as she looked at her watch. She sighed in relief when she reached her destination and stood quietly peeping through the hole between the large stands. She still caught the last 5 minutes of football practice, cursing under her breath the entire time as she watched the star quarterback run through the field.

“Buffy, there you are!” Willow sighed in relief.

The petite blond jumped up hitting her head on the stand above her.

“Ouch! Willow, what’re you doing here?” Buffy grumbled as she scratched the sore spot on her skull.

“Watching you torture yourself into insanity.” Willow stated tilting her head towards the field.

“I-I wasn’t… I…” She tried to explain but it was no use, she got caught.

“You’ve been following Angel around for weeks now, you have to move on.” The redhead pleaded.

“I’ll move on when I see him on his knees begging me for forgiveness.” Buffy set her mouth in a straight line to show her resolve.

“You still want him back, don’t you?” Willow asked.

“What? No!” The blonde teen answered truthfully. “I just want to seen him suffer and grovel at my feet so I can tell him ‘You’ve missed your chance.’” An evil revengeful glow sparkled in her eyes as she spoke, clearly envisioning her moment of triumph.

“Buffy…” Willow tried to reason with her, but Buffy started walking away.

“Don’t even try to talk me out of this one. I’ll find a way to get him, and until I do I’ll just follow him!”

~++++++++++++++++~

She walked quietly several feet behind him so she would remain unnoticed. She already knew where he was going. It was Friday night, he was obviously going to pick her up. Bastard!

As the dimly lit house came into view, Buffy left the sidewalk and hid behind the tall bushes. She heard the unnatural rustle of leafs and looked up at the nearest tree.

“Oh, God! What a freak!” She whispered to herself at the sight of a bleached teen moving between branches, straining to see what was going on on the front porch of the house.

She picked up a long stem and reached up to poke the Brit on the ass. Startled, Spike lost his balance and tumbled down the tree, falling on his ass with a thud.

“What was that?” They heard Angel ask.

“Probably just the cat.” A clearly feminine voice answered. It was Dru.

Spike looked up to see Buffy cockily towering over him.

“You’re pa-“

A flash of anger coursed through him and in a blink of an eye he was up, his hand covering her mouth his body crushing hers against the tree he had just fallen off of. They glared silently at one another till Spike felt a sharp pain in the palm of his hand and instinctively pulled his hand away from her mouth.

“Ouch!” He hissed as he checked his hand for any sign of injury. Sure enough he found a small, but deep and flaming red bite mark. “You bit me!”

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” She hissed at him. “Skulking in the dark and spying on your ex.

“I’m pathetic? You mean to tell me you’re not here because you’ve been following the big poofter back there?” Spike countered tilting his head towards the house.

“I-I…”

“You think I don’t know you’ve been walking around the school following him everywhere?” He asked with a cocky grin.

“Well at least I don’t go around climbing trees and making poor little lost puppy eyes every time I see my ex.” Buffy hissed triumphantly.

“I’m love’s bitch and I’m man enough to admit it.” He confessed proudly raising his chin.

Buffy had no quick comeback for that one, so she settled for a pathetic:

“Crazed stalker.”

“I love Dru, I’ve always loved her, ever since I can remember. I’m not gonna lose her to some Yankee ponce.” He stated .

“Oh, now that’s just sad.” The blonde looked at him with pity.

“Like you’re not dying to have you’re big, greased poof back. All he’d have to do is ask and you’d be parting your knees for him.” He growled. But he didn’t have much time to gloat at his not so witty comment as he felt an excruciating pain take over his entire body as her knee connected with his groin.

“Pig!” She snorted, seeing him fall limply to the ground, clutching his privates as he repressed a much-needed howl.

She turned on her heels and walked away.

~+++++++++++++++~

Willow hugged her books against her chest as she walked side by side with Buffy and Oz. She took in a deep breath, exhaling sharply as she entered the familiar building.

“Ah… Monday! Don’t you just love it?” She asked with a huge satisfied grin on her face.

Under heavy eyelids, the blonde threw a glance in her best friend’s direction before shaking her head and sighed audibly.

“You’re in serious need of psychiatric treatment, you know that, right?”

“What? I like school, so?” The redhead shrugged.

“My point exactly. Liking school is one of the clear signs of a very obscure neurological dysfunction that destroys the part of your brain that enables you to distinguish between fun and hard, bad work.” The blonde theorized.

Willow’s right eyebrow cocked up and Buffy continued with a serious tone:

“It’s true. There’s a part of any teen’s brain where we have defined the following logical equation: fun equals good, school equals bad, bad and good are opposites therefore school is the opposite of fun. Hence,” Buffy shook her head emphatically “no happy faces and deep content sighs on Monday mornings, especially at nine am. It’s considered highly pathological otherwise.”

Willow’s brow furrowed further and she finally asked:

“Who are you and what have you done with Buffy?”

The blonde sighed heavily and replied:

“I couldn’t sleep last night. Again! So I stayed up late watching the Discovery channel. Big show on Psychology and Logics, hence the whole theory. Don’t worry, it’ll probably go away in- Spike!” Buffy stopped her explanations as a bleached teen stood in her way and blocked her path.

“Need to talk to you, Betty!” He said with a dry voice, throwing a glance towards Willow and Oz.

“It’s Buffy.” She hissed, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “And I can’t now, I have classes.” She tried to move around him, but he took a step and once again was towering over her.

“It won’t take long.” He grumbled.

It was clear he didn’t want to be there. He scanned the hall and saw the several frowns that surrounded them. It was easy to understand why. Everyone at that school knew the seething hatred that the blonde pair nurtured for one another. Obviously, they expected the usual shouting, swearing and occasional fists flying that usually developed within five minutes of the two being within five feet of each other. This time it wasn’t happening. Why? All the students wondered as they watched Buffy sigh and signal Willow and Oz to go on without her.

“What do you want, bleached-wonder?”

“Talk to you.” He explained.

“I’m here. Talk.”

“Not here.” He frowned, throwing evil glances at all the students that stared at them, before grabbing Buffy by her arm and dragging her out of there.

Chapter V

“Ouch! That hurts!” She protested, trying to pull her arm out of his grip but failing. “Let go!” she practically screamed as they rounded a corner and reached the back of the school.

He came to a halt and let go of her arm.

“That hurt, you troglodyte.” She grumbled rubbing her sore arm. She continued a string of curses as she realised that the next day she would have finger-shaper bruises on her bronze skin from his not too delicate handling. “Stupid, idiot, foreign, brainless oaf.”

“Are we done with the cursing, luv?” He asked annoyed.

“No! You’re also a Neanderthal and stop calling me luv.” She protested again. “What do you want?”

“Dru back.” He answered simply.

She paused for a second before speaking.

“Ok, I realise you’re a bit slow and all but…” She began to speak slowly, exaggeration in the articulation of the words: “I. Am. *Not*. Dru.” She tilted her head towards him, as if trying to ascertain if he had understood her.

“Oh, Dru you’re *definitely not*.” He said with a sarcastic tone, which made the petite blonde flinch.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Let’s not go down that road.” He quickly tried to change the subject. If he wanted Buffy’s help, offending her was definitely not the way to get it. “I think we can help each other. You want your big ponce back, I want Dru, we should join forces.” He concluded.

“Two things: I would never, ever join *anything*with you and I don’t want Angel back. I just want him to contract a very painful venereal disease that involves the decaying and falling off of his private parts.” She finished her statement with a huge plastic grin.

Spike couldn’t help but wince at the description. Shaking himself out of that bad place in his mind he spoke:

“You don’t want Angel? You’ve been following him everywhere since you broke up.” The bleached teen pointed out the obvious.

“Just until I find the best way to inflict maximum pain to that cheating bastard.” She explained harshly.

Spike paused for second, pondering the new development. Annoyed, Buffy sighed and began to walk away.

“How about having him head over heels for you again?” He offered.

She cocked an eyebrow, coming to a halt:

“I’m listening.”

“I can help you get him back. Even if you show him you don’t want him, he’ll be grovelling at your feet.” He started to explain.

“Grovelling is good.” She said simply as she waited to hear the rest of the plan.

“And at the same time I can get Dru back.”

“So what do I have to do?” She enquired.

“Pretendtobemygirlfriend.” He said in one breath.

“What?!” she yelped. “Has all that bleach finally sunk into your brain and caused irreparable damage?” She questioned incredulous.

“The moment the 2 of them see us together they’ll go nuts with jealousy. Dru still loves me I know it.” Spike quickly explained.

“What about Angel?” She cocked her head.

“He never could stand seeing me and Dru happy. That’s why he’s after her. If he sees me with you, he’ll want you.”

“You’ve hit your head recently, haven’t you?” She asked sincerely.

“No. I’m telling you it’ll work. Trust me. I know Angel.”

“Trust? You? Oh you’ve definitely lost it pal.” She laughed.

Growling, the bleached teen reached into his pockets and took out a pack of cigarettes, bringing one to his lips and lighting it.

“Hey, hey, hey! No smoking!” She grabbed the cigarette, which dangled from his mouth and dropped it to the floor twisting the sole of her shoe on it.

Spike gave her an evil look, and it was clear he was doing all he could to keep himself from ringing her pretty little neck.

There was a moment of silence. Buffy scanned the outlying football field recognizing the form of the quarterback. In the distance she saw a black clad figure clapping hysterically at each successful pass the teen performed. She felt her stomach twist in disgust. Without turning to look at the bleached boy behind her she asked:

“What do I do?”

“Hang out with me. People have to see us together, holding hands, hugging and such.” Spike explained.

“No, nooooo way it hell!” She shook her head emphatically waving her arms around in a clear sign of disagreement as she turned to face him. “I’m not touching you!”

“You don’t see me hopping around singing ‘oh, joy! Oh, joy!’ either, luv.”

“Ok, deal.” She agreed reluctantly. “But we hang out with *my* crowd.”

“What? No!” It was his turn to shake his head.

“I’m not going anywhere near your monochromatic, Goth pals. No way and that’s final. We do it my way or it’s off.” Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and set her lips in a straight line waiting for his answer.

Eventually, he gave up and shaking his head mumbled:

“Fine, we’ll do it you’re way.”

“Good. When do we start?”

“Hum… tomorrow?”

“Ok, tomorrow we’re officially a couple.”

“One more thing. No one can know about our little deal or it’s off.” He warned her.

“Sure. Otherwise it would defeat the whole purpose of it, now wouldn’t it?”

“Just making sure. No telling Red, or the whelp or anyone!”

“What? Willow’s not gonna tell anyone.”

“I don’t care. No one can know.”

“But…”

“No buts, blondie.”

“Fine!” She agreed looking at her watch. “Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!” she cursed. “I’m late!” looking up at him with a deadly gaze she added: “This is all your fault. I hate you!”

“Same here!” He shouted after her, watching her run to her next class.

****

She exhaled sharply as she entered the house, dragging her aching feet on the floor plopping down on the couch with closed eyes and sighing. Her heavy eyelids shot open when she heard a deep male laughter coming from the kitchen.

“Mom…” she whispered to herself, forcing her tired body to stand.

As she reached the threshold of the tiled room her jaw fell to the floor. There, around the isle, sat her mom and…

“Spike?” She asked incredulous.

The Brit muffled his laughter at the sight of the petite blond.

“What are you doing here?” Buffy inquired as she noticed the mug of hot chocolate set in front of Spike.

“You’re friend William came by to get your notes from English class.” Joyce explained standing and walking toward the counter, picking up a kettle. “More hot chocolate?”

“William?” Buffy mouthed the name and could barely refrain from laughing.

The blonde shot her a dirty look before answering her mom.

“No thanks, Mrs. Summers. I’ll just get those notes from Buffy and I’ll be on my way.”

He stood up as he spoke, walking towards Buffy and discreetly, wormed his long fingers around her arm, dragging her to the hall.

“William?” She repeated, this time she wasn’t able to suppress the chuckle.

“What?” He grumbled.

“Sorry, just forgot you were William. It’s just such a…” Buffy pondered her words. “… delicate name.”

Spike forced a plastic smile on his lips for a glimpse of a second before snarling:

“What’s wrong with William?”

“Nothing. Just forget it.” Buffy shook her head. “What do you want, bleach boy?”

“We have to talk about tomorrow.”

Buffy looked over his shoulder and noticed her mom straining to hear what they were saying. She tilted her head toward the stairs and made her way up, with Spike following her close behind.

Chapter VI

“Speak.” She said entering her bedroom.

Spike remained silent for a moment, scanning her room. A cocky grin settled on his lips as he saw a stuffed pig on her bed.

“What?” she asked annoyed.

“Nothing.” He mumbled, shaking his head.

“So, what about tomorrow?” She sighed audibly.

“We have to figure out the details.”

“Such as?”

“What do we tell your buddies?” he offered.

“That a piano landed on my head and suddenly going out with you doesn’t seem as revolting as it should?” She quipped looking up at him with a boastful grin.

“You’re cracking me up, luv.” He grunted sarcastically.

Sighing heavily, she let herself fall on her bed.

“I don’t know what to tell them.” She mumbled as she stared up at the ceiling.

“Well, we have to come up with something convincing.”

She turned her head towards him and made a face.

“I don’t think this is such a good idea anymore.”

“Oh, come on, Betty! You can’t back out now. It’s just for a few of days. If I can stand it so can you. I mean, don’t you want to have the poof grovelling and drooling over you. Just imagine him on his knees begging for you to come back to him and you telling him to get a life in front of the whole school.” Desperation was clear in his voice.

Images matching the description the blonde had made flashed before her eyes and she felt the overwhelming rush of power and vengeance course through her veins. She exhaled sharply and sat up on the bed.

“Ok! I’ll do it.” She agreed, causing Spike to sigh in relief. “But first you are definitely going to have to memorise my name. It’s Buffy. Get it through that bleached head of yours. Bu-ffy. It’s not that hard.”

He nodded and sat down on the bed next to her.

“Now… about the guys. I’ll just tell them that… I changed my mind. I don’t know. I’ll just say that…” She looked up at the ceiling as she pondered. “I got it!” She piped up triumphantly. “I’ll say that I was being mugged and that you came in the nick of time and saved me. Brilliant!” She congratulated herself.

“And you think they’ll buy it?” He asked a bit suspicious of their plan.

“They’ll have to.” She shrugged. “Now, one thing’s important, we can’t just announce all of a sudden that we are… you know…” Her index finger danced between them , alternating between pointing at him and at herself.

“Snogging?” Spike offered.

“Yeah.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “It’ll have to take time. Be gradual. Otherwise no one’s gonna go for it. I mean, everyone at that school knows we hate each other’s guts.”

“But that way it’ll take forever.” Spike protested.

“I know Willow and Xander, they won’t go for it if it’s any other way.” She insisted.

“Fine.” Spike reluctantly agreed. “So what do we do tomorrow.”

“We take it slow. You’ll sit with us at lunch. Something like that. No touching, no nothing. Just friendly talking.”

“What do we talk about?”

“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out as we go along.”

****

Joyce Summers let out a deep sigh as she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. They were out of her room, finally. Thank God! She was really starting to feel very uncomfortable with her daughter being in a room alone with a teenage boy.

“So, did you get the notes?” She tried to act nonchalant about it.

“What?”

“The notes you needed from Buffy?”

“Oh, those! Yes, Mrs. Summers.” Spike answered promptly.

An awkward silence filtered between the three and Buffy was the one to break it:

“Well, you gotta go do that… thing. Don’t you?”

“Hum… Yeah! I do. Gotta go. I’m actually late.” He said quickly heading for the door. “Thanks for the hot chocolate, Mrs. Summers and good evening.”

Buffy closed the door behind him and turned to jog up the stairs when she heard her mom clear her throat in the international Mom-daughter code for ‘We need to talk’. Sighing audibly, the teen came down the steps and entered the kitchen after her mother.

“Buffy, what was your idea taking that boy up to your room? I mean, he’s a nice boy and all, but you know what I’ve told you about boys in your room. It’s strictly forbidden, I don’t-“

“Mom, calm down. We weren’t doing anything. I promise.” Buffy guaranteed. “We were just talking.”

“It doesn’t matter, you can’t have boy in your room. You never know what might happen and…”

“Believe me, nothing was or will ever happen between me and Spike. I guarantee you. I’m *definitely* not his type.” Buffy tried to explain to her mother.

“What do you mean not his type?” Joyce enquired.

“Just trust me on this one.” Buffy spoke as she recalled the strange affection the bleached teen had for Dru. She had never really understood it. It just seemed psychotic, he followed her everywhere, was constantly concerned with her well being, papering her and doing everything she asked of him. It seemed like an obsession. “I’m definitely *not* his type.”

“Oh!” Her mother brought her hand to her lips as a realisation struck her. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was…” Joyce pondered her words carefully.

“He is mom.” Buffy admitted, as she thought her mom was referring to his being totally head over heel over another girl.

“Oh, in that case it’s ok.” Joyce agreed as she returned to her dishwashing.

“What’s ok?”

“Him being in your room. If he’s gay he’s like a… girlfriend.”

Buffy’s eyes widened.

“What? Mom, he’s not-“

She was cut short as the phone rang. Quickly she went to pick it up, making a mental note to talk to her mom and make sure she got things straightened out.

****

Willow mindlessly shovelled her food around in her plate, her eyes scanning the cafeteria. Suddenly, they widened as she saw a certain bleached teen heading their way and eventually sitting next to Buffy, dropping his tray next to hers.

“Hey!” he greeted.

Everyone at the cafeteria froze, including Xander; his fork dangling from his lips.

“Hey!” Oz calmly replied.

Buffy braced herself as she noticed the questioning looks Willow and Xander were shooting at her.

“Hello, Spike.” She piped up in a low voice; her eyes never diverting from her plate. It wasn’t a very pretty sight, but at least it kept her safe from the hundreds of eyes that fell upon her.

“So…” The Brit tried to start up a conversation, but it seemed impossible considering the near catatonic state Willow and Xander were in.

“So…” Oz repeated. Outstretching his hand he introduced himself. “I’m Oz.”

“Spike.” Spike replied shaking his hand.

“I know.” Oz stated.

The silence at the table seemed heightened by the low whispering that now plagued the cafeteria.

“Why are you here?” Willow finally managed to snap out of her daze.

“Just felt like sitting with the damsel in distress here.” Spike answered shovelling the food into his mouth.

“Damsel in distress?”

“Yep. Betty-“ Spike winced as Buffy kicked him under the table. “Hum… Buffy, here was being mugged on her way home and…” Spike glanced towards Xander only to realise that a fork was still dangling from his mouth. “Ok! That” he pointed at the boy. “Is really starting to freak me out. Is it normal?”

Immediately, Xander pulled the fork out of his mouth and set in on the table.

“Anyway, I happened to be passing by and was her knight in shining armour.”

Chapter VII

“You saved Buffy from being robbed?” Xander finally asked.

“Oh, he can speak.” Spike mocked sarcastically. “And yep. Beat him up real good. And he wasn’t small either. Big, beefy, six feet and a half. Huge, giant- Ouch!”

He winced as Buffy once again aimed the heel of her boot to the sensitive flesh of his shin.

“He’s exaggerating.” The blonde intervened giving the table a wide, plastic smile.

“No, I’m not. He was huge and he had a gun-“

“No, he didn’t!” She cut him off shooting fireballs from her green eyes.

“Yes, he did. You just didn’t see it.” Spike insisted.

“No, he didn’t.”

“Yes, he did.”

“No, he –“

“Someone please stop them.” Oz pleaded monotonically.

“I-I think that the important thing is that you’re safe and nothing bad happened.” Willow, ever the diplomat intervened.

The two blondes eyed each other in disgust, eventually returning their attention to their plates. The rest of the meal was spent in an awkward silence.

“Well, we better go.” Buffy suddenly stood up as the stillness finally got to her.

“Yeah. Classes and all.” Willow agreed following Buffy and leaving the three men alone to stare at each other.

~+~

“What were you thinking?” Buffy shrieked as she strode quickly down the road.

“I was just doing what you told me to.” Spike defended himself as he quickened his pace to catch up to her.

“Six feet and a half? And with a gun?” She stopped to look at him, incredulous.

“What? So I embellished.” He admitted.

“Embellish? You call that embellish?” She asked with a frown. “I think you should buy yourself a dictionary because *that* was definitely not embellishing.

Embellishing doesn’t even begin to cover it. I mean, do you honestly think that they would believe you. How dumb do you think they are?” She saw the cocky grin starting to spread over his lips and quickly added: “Don’t answer that.”

With a loud sigh she began walking again, her house coming into view at the horizon.

“I wanted to make the story a little more interesting.” Spike tried to explain himself.

“Interesting? I thought we were aiming for believable.” She snarled as she continued to make her way home without dispensing him a glance.

They walked briskly and reached the front porch of her house.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright?” He apologized.

“Sorry?” She started but he interrupted her.

“Ok, could you please stop repeating every word I say? It’s really starting to get to me.”

“Grrr…” She growled pushing the door open and entering the house.

She stomped her way up the stairs and into her bedroom with Spike trailing behind. Her hand automatically reached for the hem of her shirt when she glanced at him with an annoyed look.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to get undressed here.”

“Oh! Sorry, luv! I’ll just wait downstairs.” Spike said awkwardly heading down the hall.

~+~

Angry footsteps echoed through the house as she made her way down the stairs.

“What are you still doing here?” She asked as she saw the Brit sprawled on her couch, TV remote in his hands as he mindlessly flipped through the channels.

“You’ve got cable.” He noted without looking at her.

“I know that. It’s my TV; it’s my living room, my house. What are you still doing in it?” Her words oozed with sarcasm as she stood there, arms folded over her chest.

Spike turned his head and glanced at her before returning his attention to the screen.

“We don’t have cable at home. Da thinks TV is a bad influence. Wants me to read books instead.” He mumbled.

Buffy stomped her way to the middle of the living room, standing between the Brit and the TV.

“You’re blocking the view, luv.” He grumbled looking up at her.

“Glad you noticed, it was the point. What are you still doing here?”

Sighing audibly, Spike sat up and turned off the TV.

“Talk about tomorrow.”

“What about tomorrow? Spike, wake up. It’s over! It didn’t work.” She tried to make him see.

“Of course it did.” He disagreed.

“What reality were you in? Cause in mine people were staring at us like we were two green eyed freaks or something. Everyone knows we hate each other. It’ll never work.” She maintained.

“It’s going to work.” Spike insisted standing up.

“Ok. Which part didn’t you get? Cause I can explain it again if you need me to.”

“I need to make this work, Bet-“

“IT’S BUFFY!” she screamed waving her hands in the air and trudging her way into the kitchen, leaving him behind.

After a few seconds, the Brit was in the tiled room, leaning against the fridge.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled.

She just stood there, a warm mug of hot chocolate in her hands, watching him with an annoyed expression.

“I need for this to work…” he started after swallowing hard. “I-I need her back. I need Dru with me or…” The words chocked in his throat.

Somewhere, deep inside, she felt a hint of pity for the poor guy, but before she could stop herself, harsh words escaped her parted lips:

“You’re not gonna cry, are you?”

Spike froze, feeling as if someone had just punched him hard in the stomach. Looking up, he narrowed his eyes, instant anger flashing in them. Without a word, he turned on his heels and exited the house, slamming the door behind him.

She stood there for a second, a pang of regret causing her to ponder going after him. In took a few seconds, but eventually it disappeared and she turned towards the sink to wash the cup in her hands.

Next