Chapter VIII

Buffy let her head fall limply to the desk, while in the background Mrs. Finch’s monotonic voice rambled on about the importance of mining being reflected in the prevalence of Crown rights over mineral wealth throughout much of Europe.

“God! Just kill me now and end my suffering.” She mumbled between clenched teeth.

As if someone had answered her prayer the bell rang out. In a flash, the petite blonde straightened up, looking wide eyed at the round clock up on the wall.

“It’s miracle!” she sang out, gathering her books and stuffing them into her backpack. “I survived! Thank God this Friday’s over”

“You really do hate history, don’t you?” The redhead asked as she waited for her friend.

“More than anything in the entire world.” Buffy answer as she walked out of the classroom followed by Willow. The small blond came to a halt as she saw the familiar bleached teen further down the hall. “Correction: it’s the second thing I hate most in the world.”

Willow sighed audibly as they made their way down the large corridor stopping by Buffy’s locker.

“So we are back to hating Spike?” The redhead asked.

“What?” the blond teen asked absentmindedly as she rummaged trough the contents of her locker.

“Hating Spike. Back on the priority list?”

“Oh, top priority! I’m definitely over my momentary lapse of reason on that one.” she nodded emphatically handing her books to Willow. “Hold these for a second.”

“Good, cause that little episode in the cafeteria yesterday just seemed… wrong.”

Buffy smiled reaching to take the books back from her best friend when the conversation going on a few feet away from them caught her attention.

“Come on, luv. Just for a second. I need to talk to you.” Spike’s begging tone made Buffy’s stomach crunch up as she turned to see the blonde teen leaning on the row of lockers lined up against opposite wall of the corridor.

She watched as the bleached Brit pleaded with an unyielding, black clad Dru.

“Please, just for a sec. I just need to talk to you, luv. Please!” He practically implored while the dark haired girl remained unaltered, arms crossed over her chest, staring annoyed into nothingness, occasionally letting out a disgusted sigh.

“Are you done yet? I told you Spike. It’s over I have nothing to say or hear from you. Get a life already, you’re starting to border on extremely pathetic.” She spat out turning on her heels to leave while everyone in the hall eyed the public humiliation of the Brit. But he didn’t care. He needed to talk to her, get some sense into that pretty little head of hers, so he grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him.

“Please, luv…” He begged once again.

“Let go of me!” Dru bellowed freeing her arm from his grip. “I-“

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

The entire hall froze in place, watching the petite blonde snake her arms around Spike’s and give him a light peck on his chiselled cheek. Turning to Dru with a wide grin on her face Buffy greeted politely:

“Hey, Dru!”

The dark haired girl’s response was a deep frown, while Spike simply gawked at the small that now held hands with him.

“Well, we better go.” She said, practically dragging a dumbstruck Spike by his hand as she made her way down he hall. “Bye, Dru.” She waved lightly at Willow as she passed her by. “Bye, Willow. I’ll call you later.”

The redhead was left behind, gawking at the odd couple, her jaw glued to the floor along with everyone else’s.

~+~

Her arms snapped away from his the moment her feet touched the concrete on the other side of the street, away from prying eyes. She cringed a bit and doubled her pace as she noticed the bleached teen still staring at her. After a few painfully silent steps she came to an abrupt halt and turned to face him.

“What?” Buffy asked trying to sound as annoyed as she could, but the dominant emotion in her was definitely unease.

He cocked his head and his lips curled to one side for a light smile. Nodding, he said softly, setting his mouth in a straight line:

“Thanks, luv.”

She was a bit thrown by his reaction, it actually bordered on sincere. This was novelty. She shook her head nervously as if trying to push down the strange feeling that crept up her spine.

“You’re welcome, but don’t expect me to do that for you again anytime soon. I can feel a strange allergic reaction coming just from touching you.” She tried to sound convincingly disgusted but failed miserably and she could tell he wasn’t buying it as his trademark smirk crept over his lips.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and restarted to walk alongside her.

“Whatever you say, pet.”

“And don’t call me pet!” She snapped at him as a deep frown settled over her eyebrows in a frustrated attempt to emphasize her discontentment.

“Sure, luv.”

There it was again! On his face! That stupid, obnoxious, cocky grin that was making her… nervous? What?! No! Stupid, obnoxious, cocky grin was supposed to make her angry, disgusted not… nervous. Never nervous. Buffy kicked herself mentally as she realised too much time had passed since his last reply for her to come up with a successful comeback. “Stupid distracting grin!” she thought to herself as she kicked a pebbled that laid in her path.

Once again they walked in a nerve-racking silence, making her fidget with the straps of her coat. Suddenly, she whipped her head around to face him.

“Why are you here?” She asked out of nowhere.

“Because my da and mom were really horny about 18 years ago?” He offered with a smirk.

“Stupid, distracting… Concentrate!” She scolded herself mentally.

“Oh, you’re funny!” She replied sarcastically.

He smiled at her and eventually answered her question, matter-of-factly:

“Walking my girlfriend home.”

Somehow, that simple phrase made it impossible for her to control her breathing and swallowing at the same time and she was practically coughing her lungs out as she choked.

“Are you ok, luv?” He asked a bit concerned as he watched her bend over, trying hard to breathe.

At his question, she looked up at him, flushed face, shooting daggers at him.

“Don’t *cough*… call me *cough*cough*…”

She wasn’t able to finish her sentence as another onslaught of coughs took over her.

“Here. Drink some of this.” Spike handed her a silver flask and without thinking the petite blonde tilted into her mouth, spilling its contents down her throat.

It took a few seconds for her brain to register the strong burning sensation that seemed to smoulder down her entire oesophagus. Instantly, she dropped the flask and restarted another coughing fit. Spike watched in panic as the petite blonde’s face changed from red, to purple, to blue and finally back to infuriated scarlet as she began to scream at him:

“ARE YOU INSANE? WHAT THE HELL WAS IN THAT THING?”

“I-“

“Do you want to kill me? Is that it? I know we hate each other but…” The anger built so far up that she wasn’t even able to construct coherent, logical sentences anymore, so she simply started to march her way down the street and up the steps of her front porch with a panicked Spike trailing closely behind. 

Chapter IX

Spike watched with a deep frown over his eyebrows as Buffy, with her head tilted backwards, vigorously gargled before spitting into the kitchen sink. She turned to face the bleached teen with a disgusted look still plastered all over her face.

“God, I can’t-“ spit “get that horrible” spit “taste out of my mouth.” She whinged, moving towards the refrigerator.

She quickly picked up the first available bottle, tilted its content into her mouth, gulping loudly as the liquid passed her throat. Setting the glass on the table she waited for a second, smacking her lips together and cringing as she realised the awful taste was still in her mouth. It was no use and with a resounding sigh she plopped down on a nearby stool.

Spike remained at the doorway, leaning slightly into the wooden frame there. After a few moments, Buffy looked upwards throwing him a murderous glance.

“I hate you.” She grumbled as she smacked her lips together once more.

“Same here, Betty.” He answered, crossing his arms over his chest.

She opened her mouth to protest, but gave up half way. She was too tired. It was Friday afternoon and she’d had a full week, she just didn’t have the energy to spar with the annoying Brit. So she chose to remain there, perfectly still, occasionally letting out a sigh or two in the feeble hope that he might take a hint and simply leave. To her misfortune he did no such thing. On the contrary, in a sluggish pace, with the same exasperating grin plastered on his face, he made his way to the counter and took a stool opposite to hers.

“What do you want, bleach boy?” She grumbled as she held her head between her hands, her fingers buried in her blonde strands, her eyes staring down at the white counter. Before he had a chance to answer, she let out a heavy a sigh and looked up to stare at him under hooded eyes. “Why do you insist in torturing me? Just go. Go. Away. Be free.” She waved a tired hand at him, but he paid no attention to it.

“You know it’ll work. That’s why you helped me out today.”

“No, I helped you out because the spectacle was just so painfully pathetic, that it just wasn’t fun to watch anymore.” She replied, standing up, taking the bottle into her hand and placing it back in the refrigerator. She turned and leaned on its door as she continued: “Are you a masochist or something? Is that it? Cause I can’t understand why in God’s name you would put yourself through that embarrassing public humiliation just for her. What do you see in that skanky vapid-“

She wasn’t able to finish her sentence as the bleached teen was on his feet and towering over her small form in an instant.

“You hold your tongue when you talk about her.” He growled between clenched teeth.

A hint of fear sent a chill down her spine as she looked up at him, but her facial _expression never testified to it. Her strong, obstinate look was still on and it didn’t falter for a second, even though she couldn’t help letting out a small sigh of relief when he backed away moments after:

“Look, I’m sorry… I- Just don’t talk about Dru that way.” He finally managed to say as he moved back to the counter to lean on it.

With her hands held up in the air in a sign of surrender she moved away from him and replied:

“Fine.”

They stayed in an awkward silence for a few desperate minutes, both trying hard to find a topic that would put an end to their torment. Spike was the first to try:

“So…”

“So…” she replied.

“What about the plan? Is it back… on?” He dared to ask.

She couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“You really like her that much, huh?”

He simply nodded. It wasn’t necessary for him to say anything. Sighing once more, she shook her head as she couldn’t believe what she was about to say:

“Ok. Fine. I’ll do it.” She grumbled in a low voice.

An instant spark flashed in his eyes.

“What?” He asked incredulous.

“Are you deaf or something?”

He shook his head.

“I said I’ll do it, ok?”

In a flash he was off the counter and had his arms wrapped around her, smashing her small form against his chest in the process. Buffy froze, her paralyzed arms were glued to her sides, her blonde head popping out just over his elbows. She didn’t know what to say. She was in shock. Eventually, when she realised he wasn’t going to let go of her any time soon, she dared to pipe up:

“Hum... Spike? What are you doing?”

The simple question was enough to bring the teen down from his heightened emotions and in an instant he let her go, took a step backwards and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his duster in an awkward motion.

“Sorry. Wasn’t thinking.” He apologized.

“Next time you have an euphoria-induced brain spasm, let me know, ok?” She said with a deep frown on her forehead.

He simply nodded and slumped back onto the stool.

“Why are you sitting down?” she asked, giving him a discontented glance, a perfectly shaped eyebrow cocking up.

“Hum...” He mumbled confused. “We have to plan.”

“Plan what?”

“What we are going to do tomorrow. You know. How we are supposed to act.” He tilted his head to emphasize that he was stating the obvious.

“Oh...” She frowned for a moment, pondering which would be the limits and finally answered: “We’ll walk together and hold hands.” And with that she turned around and concentrated on washing the two dirty dishes that her mom had left in the sink.

“Hold hands? That’s it?” He asked incredulous, coming to stand next to her.

Buffy’s eyes were fixed on the plate she held in her hands. Scrubbing it incessantly as the nervousness took over.

“Y-Yes.” She replied in a faltering tone.

“Oh, come on! Dru and Angel are never going to believe it if they don’t see some snogging.” He protested.

“Hey! I’m not going to-“ She struggled with the strange word as the jitteriness seemed to affect her ability to speak coherently. Finally, she managed to yelp as she shook her head emphatically: “There will definitely be no snogging. And there will be no one watching me and... you and... I- NO SNOGGING!” Her eyes dropped to the sink. ‘Damn it! No more dishes! What do I do now?’

Spike smiled as he realised what she was thinking.

“Snogging, luv. It means making out, french kissing. Nothing else.”

“Oh...” She sighed in relief when suddenly realisation came. “Wait! You want me and you to kiss? French kiss?!”

Spike nodded.

“Oooooh no! No way! I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole, let alone let you stick your slimy tongue down my throat. Yuck.” Her face contorted and cringed in all sorts of ways as she walked about the room, nervously searching for something to occuppy herself with.

“We’re just supposed to hold hands?! They’ll never believe it and you know it!” He insisted.

“I. Am. Not. Kissing. You.” She said flatly.

“But-“

“Take it or leave it!” She stood tall, her chin held high in a sign of resolve and he couldn’t help but sigh, shaking his head as he mumbled.

“Fine... We’ll hold hands...” 

Chapter X

“What do you mean she walked away with him?” Xander asked incredulous, staring wide eyed at the redhead who walked alongside him.

“I mean she just slid her arm around his and dragged him out of school .” Willow explained for the 100^th time.

“And you haven’t spoken to her the whole weekend?” The teen continued to question.

“Nope. Tried to call her but no one answered.”

“But-“ Xander trailed off as the subject of their discussion came up from behind the duo.

“Hey, guys.” Buffy greeted with little enthusiasm.

“There you are! Where were all weekend?” Willow questioned as they continued to walk down the hall.

“Don’t ask. My mom’s maternal instinct decided to kick in full force this weekend. End result, some major mother/daughter bonding overload. Had to spend the whole time going through family photo albums, cooking and baking lessons. God! She even felt the need to chit-chat about those little fornicating birds and bees. If I have to her my mom say the word penis one more time I swear I’ll shoot myself.” Buffy cringed as she remembered a few gory details.

“Sorry to hear that.” Willow gave her best friend a sympathetic look and Buffy sighed.

Suddenly, looking more closely, she realised everyone in the hall was gawking at her.

“Oh God! Do I have like a giant pimple on my face?” Buffy asked in a panic, to which Xander and Willow both shook their heads. “Then why is everyone staring at me?”

“Maybe because of the weird Spike-loving event back on Friday afternoon?” Xander offered with a hint of sarcasm.

“Oh, that...”

“Yes, that! I thought we were back to “hating Brit boy’s boney ass” mode.”

“Well, we-“

Buffy wasn’t able to finish her sentence as two strong, long arms wormed their way over her shoulders to settle over her waist and a hard chest now pressed against her back. ‘A definite male chest!’ Buffy mentally noted. Before her brain had time to question who it belonged to, a low, whispering voice in her ears gave her the answer.

“Morning, luv.”

Buffy’s froze, her heart seemed to leap up to her throat, while Willow and Xander’s eyes were just about to pop out of their sockets.

“Hey...” she greeted back with much less enthusiasm.

She could feel herself blushing, her skin heating up. ‘God, this is just so strange. WRONG! WRONG! Go away! Don’t touch me! Yuck!’ A squeaking voice screamed in her head, but she forced it into the background as she put on her best imitation of a smile.

“So, how are you?” She asked as she turned her head to face him, his arms still wrapped around her, her back still glued to his front.

“I’m fine.” The Brit answered.

Buffy was suprised to find a perfectly calm and cool Spike grinning back at her. For a second she seemed to zone out and when she was back to full attention the last thing she heard was:

“...do you have now?”

“Huh...? What?” The petite blond asked, shaking her head as she realised she was still staring up at the teen who was now idly playing with the edge of her shirt. ‘Stupid distracting smirk!’ She thought as she turned to face Xander while Spike repeated his question:

“What class to you have now, luv?”

“Hum...” Buffy struggled with her memory, but for some strange, disturbing reason, the feel of his chest and his legs pressing against her back seemed to block all her thinking abilities. Thankfully, a life-saving Willow intervened.

“We’ve got History.”

“Yes! History!” Buffy repeated as the bell rang.

“Well, see you in third period. We’ve got English together, right?” Spike enquired as his arms slid away from her and his body untangled itself from hers.

“Hum...” ‘Think stupid! Think!’ she ordered her brain. “Yes, I-I think we do.”

“See you later then.” He shouted as he made his way down the hall, leaving three dumbstruck teens behind.

“What. The Hell. Was that?” Xander tried to ask as calmly as he could manage.

“Uh... It’s... Hum...” Buffy struggled. “We better get going, don’t want Mrs. Finch on our cases. See you later, Xander.” She shouted as she quickly made her way to her next class, a confused Willow trailing behind her.

“But-“ Xander was left standing in the middle of an empty hall as the two girls snuck into their class room.

~+~

Buffy stared at the small, crunched up piece of paper lying on her desk. Written in small black letters, she read:

“What was that all about?”

She looked up and to her right to find a wide eyed Willow staring back at her.

“Later.” The petite blond mouthed.

“Miss Summers!” Mrs Finch’s voice hovered over the class and everyone turned to gawk at the offending teen.

“Sorry, Mrs. Finch.”

The elderly woman nodded slightly and returned to her dull rambling about the effects of the Industrial Revolution on the social structure of the British society.

When she realised she was off the hook, Buffy turned to whisper:

“I’ll tell you later, I promise.”

~+~

The bell rang and, in a flash, Willow was standing next to Buffy, books pressed against her chest, eyes staring widely at her friend, anxiously waiting for an explanation.

“What’s happening, Buffy?” The redhead asked as her patience ran out.

The petite blonde paused for a moment when she finished packing her books and looked up at her best friend. She really didn’t want to lie, but she had promised. The teen swallowed hard and, in one low and quickly breath, worded:

“Spikesmyboyfriend.”

With that she quickly made her way to the door.

“What?!” A  stunned Willow shouted after her.

Buffy never had a chance to answer as she entered the hall she bumped into someone, her books tumbling to the floor.

“I’m sor-“ She stopped in mid sentence as she finished gathering her books and looked up to find a black clad Dru staring arrogantly down at her.

“Watch where you’re going!” She snapped.

“I said I was sorry.” Buffy apologized as she stood up straight.

With a chesty turn of her head, the black clad teen walked away, leaving the two best friends alone to talk.

“Explain.” Willow said simply.

“Spike and I are going out.” Buffy tried to sound as nonchalant about it as possible.

“Since when?”

“Since... Last Friday.”

“How?”

“We figured out that we have a lot in common.”

“Like what?!” Willow promptly asked.

“Like... I don’t know... A lot of stuff. Like...”

“An intense reciprocated loathing for one another?” Willow offered with a hint of sarcasm.

Buffy shook her head as she opened her locker.

“I can’t explain it to you. We’re together now. Things changed.”

Willow opened her mouth to say something, but Buffy cut her off.

“Just trust me, Willow. I know what I’m doing.”

And with that the bell rang and the two teens headed their separate ways.

~+~

Buffy nervously tapped her pencil on her desk as she heard the teacher read the same poem for the second time. Every once in a while she dared to throw a glance in the bleached teen’s general direction and almost every time she found him scribbling something on his notebook. What did he write in that damned thing. Every Monday morning was the same thing. He’d come into class, sit in his place and just scribbled away the whole time. Could he be taking notes? In English class? Buffy shook her head as the ringing of the bell snapped her out of her thoughts. She was putting her books into her backpack when she saw someone approaching her from the corner of her eyes.

“Ready to work on your acting skills, pet? Cause you sure as hell are long way from an award winning performance. What was all that staring about back in the halls, by the way?” He asked.

“What staring? I don’t stare.” Buffy said simply as she continued to stuff her things into the bag, before turning to leave the classroom.

“Whatever.” The teen sighed as he snaked his arm around her waist.

“Hey!” she instinctively slapped his hand away from her.

“You better get used to it, luv. Our overnight passion won’t look very believable if you keep jumping up every time I come near you, now will it?” He asked tilting his head.

Buffy rolled her eyes and sighed, taking his hand in hers she dragged him out of the classroom and into the hall where everyone turned to look at the odd couple.

“They’re staring. They’ll never believe this.” Buffy said between clenched.

“They’ll believe it. Trust me, pet.” He answered her in the same fashion.

“This is a stupid plan. It’ll never work.” She grunted stopping in front of her locker and opening it.

“Will you stop being so- Your pals are coming our way.” He warned her as he watched Willow, Oz and Xander coming down the hall.

“Oh, great! More questions. God, I hate my life!” She grumbled as she closed the locker and turned to smile at her friends. “Hey, guys!”

“Hey!” Xander greeted back, eyeing Spike as the bleached teen once again wormed his hands around Buffy’s waist.

“How was Math?” Buffy asked as she tried to break the odd silence that began to form between the group.

“Painful.” Was Xander’s short answer.

“Oh...”

Silence. Incredibly uncomfortable silence. Oz was the only one who didn’t seem affected by the strange situation. He idly played with one of Willow’s auburn strands as he scanned the hall. It wasn’t hard to realise everyone was staring at the small group, especially the blond couple that was now holding hands.

A general sigh of relief was heard as the bell rang.

“Well, see you at lunch.” Buffy said as she tried to walk away from the Brit but he held onto her hand:

“I’ll walk you to your class.”

Xander threw the Brit a look. This was just... Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! And it was making him extremely nauseous. He swallowed hard as he watched the duo walk away.

~+~

They sat in silence, the entire cafeteria stared at their table.

“So...” Cordelia was the one to break the stillness. She had been waiting the entire day to ask a question, ever since Xander had told her the news it had become an itch she was just dying to scratch. So, being Cordelia, she did: “Since when are you and Buffy here going steady?”

The food that had been in Xander’s mouth was suddenly splattered all over his tray. The boy practically coughed out a lung as he heard his girlfriend’s blunt question.

“I didn’t think the food here could look more disgusting than it already did. I was wrong.” Oz stated monotonically as he looked at the mess displayed in front of Xander.

Spike frowned watching the teen sitting oposite to him, who continued to have a coughing fit. With the most serious tone in the world the Brit asked:

“Are you sure he’s house broken?”

Buffy couldn’t help a smile as a bright red Xander looked up to shoot daggers at the bleached teen. After a few moments, after drinking about a gallon of water, the brunette was able to sit up straight and actually breathe. He stood up, picking up his tray and handed it to one of the cafeteria ladies before coming back to take his place between Cordy and Willow. The growingly familiar silence was back, until:

“You and Buffy are an item, huh?” Cordelia’s voice hovered over the table, closely followed by a loud thud.

Everyone turned to see Xander repeatedly bang his head against the table, muttering something unintelligible between clenched teeth. But this time the distraction wasn’t enough and Buffy was forced to answer:

“Yes.”

“Why?” Cordelia promptly continued her interrogation.

“Why?!” Now that was a smart question. Everyone who had dared to enquire about her choice of ‘boyfriend’ had asked something along the lines of – How, not why. “Well... He and I... and...” Buffy struggled for an explanation.

“It’s physical!” Spike aka Night in Shining Armour stepped in. “She just couldn’t resist my darn sinister attraction.” He said with the most serious tone in the world. “I think she fell for me when I saved her.”

“From being mugged?” Cordelia asked as she recalled her conversation with Xander on the subject.

“Yep.”

Buffy just sat in her place, trying hard not to roll her eyes. ‘God! The nerve of some people!’ In her mind a string of curses was directed at the Brit, who now stretched his arm across the back her chair.

Cordelia frowned a little but decided to accept the explanation, especially since her boyfriend was currently kicking her in the shin under the table and the resulting ache was starting to make itself known. They continued their lunch and this time the stillness between the group didn’t seem as dreadful or as uncomfortable as before.

Suddenly, extreme silence took over the entire room as all the kids gawked at the entrance to the cafeteria. Buffy and Spike turned around to find the object of everyone’s attention and the two blondes couldn’t help but gulp as they watched Dru and Angel walk into the room. The two couples exchanged electrically charged glances as they remained perfectly still for a second. Everyone watched as the quarterback crossed the room towards the blond duo, his heavy arms draped over Dru’s shoulders. He came to a halt and looked down at the sitting couple.

“Buffy.” He greeted dryly. Turning to look at the bleached teen sitting next to the petite blond he practically spat: “Spike.”

“Angel. Dru.” The Brit greeted back with a plastic smile as he possessively put his arm around Buffy.

Silence. Everyone waited and watched.

“Buffy, I have some of your notes back home.” Angel started. “When do you want them back.”

“Keep them.” Buffy answered dryly as she felt her stomach turn at the sight of Dru pressing herself against the quarterback’s large chest. Her hands traced suggestive patterns on his stomach as she shot Buffy a dirty look. “I don’t need them.”

The teen was taken by surprise by her cold and distant tone, but soon recovered. He stood up straight and mumbled:

“Fine. Suit yourself.”

And with that he turned on his heels and left, dragging Dru with him. 

Next