Spike groaned as he walked to class. Only one person called him that - Candy, the bubble brained twit. ""Allo, Candy."
Candyís blond hair swung as she caught up with Spike. "Where ya headed?"
"Class," Spike said patiently. *This could get ugly,* he thought, digging through his pockets for a forbidden smoke.
"Really? Me, too!" Candy exclaimed. "Whatís the class?"
"Myth, Magic and Monsters with Dr. Keeting," Spike replied, lighting up.
"That class is like so cool," Candy gushed. "My friendís brotherís wife had that class, and she said you learned such far out stuff in there."
"Far out, eh?" Spike said, inhaling. *Whereís the Slayer when you need to be killed?*
"Yup. There are even guest speakers that come in. You havenít had anyone yet?" Candy asked.
"Canít say that we have," Spike answered. The two neared the building where class was being held. He put out his cigarette and held the door open for Candy. "After you," he said, politely.
"You are such the sweetie," Candy answered, entering. "This is where I get off," she told him. "Have fun in class!"
"Iím sure I will have a jolly good time," Spike replied, watching the blond bounce away. He sighed heavily, then turned and headed for his own class.
The Winter semester had started two months ago. Buffy and Spike had three classes out of four together. Spike had refused to take anything involving dancing, so Buffy was left on her own for that class.
The first couple weeks of class, the couple had to endure teasing from their friends at the community college about the engagement announcement in the paper. Luckily, they stopped before Spike decided to go Ďgrr,í as Buffy liked to call his demon face, on them.
Spike entered the auditorium like classroom and looked for his woman of the hour. He spotted her chatting in the far, front corner of the room. Spike made his way down to her and slid into the seat she reserved for him with a groan.
"Hey, you," Buffy said, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. "Whatís with the pitiful noises."
"Iíve been ĎCandied,í" Spike told her, using the code they set up to refer to the air-head. "I barely escaped with my unlife."
Buffy chuckled. "Want I should slay her for you?"
"Would you?" Spike asked. He turned his face to her and batted his eyes. "Pretty please?"
"Oh, brother," Buffy said, rolling her own eyes. "Hey, we got a guest speaker tonight," she told him, changing the subject.
"Do you know who it is?" Spike asked.
"Probably some 1-900-psychic," Buffy answered with a chuckle. "If so, after class we can see how psychic she really is by siccing you on her."
"Now that would be interesting," Spike said. The teacher entered the class and they quieted down.
"Alright, class," Dr. Keeting addressed the students. "Tonight, we have the pleasure of having with us the foremost authority on the undead, namely vampires. Please welcome, Mr. Rupert Giles."
Spike and Buffy looked at each other as Giles came forward, briefcase in hand. He opened it and took out some notes. "Hello, I am Rupert Giles, as Dr. Keeting said," Giles told the class. "I have been asked by your professor to-to give you a lecture on vampires. I w-would like to start off with a question. Can someone tell m-me what a Ďvampireí is?"
The two in the front corner of the room couldnít contain it any longer. Buffy and Spike burst out laughing, and all eyes shot to them. Buffy was gripping her sides, doubled over in laughter whereas Spike was trying to wipe the tears that were running down his face.
Giles could not see exactly who the two were that were laughing at him. "I say, do you two find something funny?" he asked.
Buffy calmed enough to answer her Watcher. "Sorry, Giles," she said. "I mean, Mr. Giles. My fault."
"Oh, dear," Giles said when he heard his Slayerís voice. He glanced down at the class list and saw both Buffy and Spikeís names, one right after another. Removing his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose. The class turned back to him. "UmÖdonít mind them," he told the other students. "I have had the not so pleasurable ability of knowing them both in high school."
The class tittered as Buffy and Spike shut up. "I think your Watcher just insulted us, luv," Spike said to Buffy.
"Yeah, well, Iíll get him later," Buffy said. Spike winced at the tone of her voice, knowing the poor tweed clad man was in for it.
"Alright, canÖcan anyone besides my personal peanut gallery answer my question?" Giles asked the class.
Buffy began glaring daggers at Giles, who pointedly ignored her as the class got under way. "I have an idea," Spike whispered, trying to distract his love. "How about after class I scare a few of our fellow classmates by showing them what a vampire really looks like?"
"Better yet," Buffy whispered back. "How would you like to find out what a Watcher tastes like?"
Spike sighed. This was going to be a long night.
"What do I want to be when I grow up?" Buffy asked aloud. She was laying against Spike in bed after a more vicious round of love making.
Spike was thinking about getting Giles to rile Buffy up more often. "What was that, pet?"
"I got a form in the mail asking if I had decided on my major," Buffy told him. "Got me thinking again."
"Oh, no. Anything but that," Spike teased. That earned him a tickle, which he expertly stopped with a deep kiss.
"Mmm," Buffy said. "Maybe Iíll think about this later."
"Good idea," Spike mumbled, moving his kisses down her collar. "I think Iím going to major in the Slayer."
"You do that," Buffy breathed heavily....
"Now, where were we?" Spike asked awhile later, sinking onto the bed next to Buffy.
"I donít know and I donít care," Buffy told him. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and groaned for a different reason. "I gotta go."
"Not so soon, so late," Buffy told him, standing to gather her clothes. "I have to get home so my mom doesnít have a fit."
"Too bad you just wonít move in with me," Spike complained, watching the young woman dress.
"I told you, not until weíre married," Buffy said. "Itís not going to kill us to wait until then."
"So says you," Spike answered. Buffy shot him a look and Spike sighed. "Youíre right, youíre right."
"Good. Now, gimme a kiss," Buffy crawled onto the bed to her lover. After a few minutes, she groaned again and disentangled herself from Spikeís arms. "I gotta go."
Spike stuck out his lower lip earning him a swat. "Ok, pet. See you tomorrow?"
"You betcha!" Buffy replied. She gave him a quick wave, then left.
Spike put his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. *Who would have thought that I, William the Bloody, master vampire, would be shagging the Slayer?* he thought to himself. *Kill her, maybe. Shag her? Not. Oh bother, now Iím starting to sound like her.*
Spike entered the cemetery after hunting for his own meal. It took longer to feed than it use to because he no longer drained anyone. Instead, he had to drink from three or four different people to be completely satisfied. Kicking at some loose grass, Spike continued his search for Buffy. He didnít see the figure detach itself from the shadows of a tree to follow him.
He spotted the object of his desire sitting on a headstone, filing her nails. "Hello, cutie," Spike called.
Buffy looked up from her fingers briefly, then back down. "What are you doing here?"
"Now, I ask you, is that anyway to greet someone?" Spike said to the sky. Buffy grunted at him and continued working on her nails. "Somebodyís in a pissy mood," Spike teased.
"Keep it up," Buffy warned. "And youíll be on the receiving end of Mr. Pointy."
"Is he a stuffed pig, too?" Spike asked innocently.
Buffy scowled and jumped off the headstone. "You know, Iíve been sitting here all night, waiting for some idiot vampire to come along. I guess my wish was finally granted."
Spike bowed mockingly. "Shall we?"
"We shall," Buffy said, and launched herself at him.
The two lovers began to fight in earnest. Buffy spun and kicked Spike in the chest, then arched a punch at his face. Spike blocked it, hitting her with his fist instead. They continued to trade blows, throwing each other about the gravestones, unaware they had a watcher.
Buffy landed on a new grave several feet away from Spike. "You got my new skirt dirty!" She yelled at him. Spike snickered. She was about to get up and attack once more when hands clamped on her waist from under her. "Eew!"
"What?" Spike asked, clearly confused at not being attacked. He noticed Buffy was struggling to stand up. Walking closer, he saw the hands on her waist. "Hey, now!" Spike said, moving to his woman. He held out his hand, which Buffy accepted, and pulled her away from the grave. The newly created vampire finished rising and faced an irate Spike. "You interrupted us, you bloody sot," he told the vampire.
The vampire hissed at Spike, who in return, punched him in the face. "Slayer, stake if you please?"
Buffy handed Spike the stake she was holding, and he plunged it into the new vampireís chest. The vampire exploded, leaving dust all over Spikeís clothing. "Bloody hell," he swore, tossing the stake back to Buffy. "I hate getting dust all over me."
"Aww, poor baby," Buffy cooed mockingly. Spike glared at her and she laughed.
"Youíre too funny," Spike said, brushing himself off. "Just for that, Iím not going to play anymore."
"Well, Iím done," Buffy informed him. "You staked the vamp I was waiting for. I should get you to come out here more often, then I wouldnít have so much work to do."
"Forget it," Spike told her. "Iím not going to become a bloody slayer of my own kind."
"No, youíll just stick to humans," Buffy said. Spike made a face at her, knowing full well she knew he no longer killed for food or sport. "So, what brings you here, anyway?"
"I was bored," Spike said.
"And Iím the entertainment?" Buffy asked. "Spike, you need to get a life."
"I have had one for over two hundred years now, thank you very much," Spike replied. "Besides, canít I just want to see my girl?"
"Now, you sound like a song," Buffy said.
"Oh, bugger off," Spike said. "Iím going home."
Buffy laughed. "Weíll fight more later, ok?" she told him. "I have to check in with Giles, first, then Iím free for the rest of the night."
"Whatever," Spike said, walking away. "Iíll look forward to pummeling your ass later."
"You and what army?" Buffy called after him. She laughed as Spike gave her the finger. Humming a jaunty tune, she turned and left in the opposite direction.
After a moment, the figure in the shadows stepped out into the moonlight. The light captured his pain filled brown eyes as he looked in the direction the Slayer had gone. With a sigh, he turned and followed the path Spike had taken, planning on how to take the other vampire out so he could no longer hurt his love. His Slayer. His Buffy.
Picking up Spikeís trail had been relatively easy. The other vampire was not taking pains to go unnoticed by the general populus. Angel watched as his childe entered a complex of condominiums. He followed and was surprised to see Spike unlock a door on the ground floor level and go inside.
Angel glanced up at the sky. It was still too early in the night for a vampire of Spikeís caliber to be in for the evening. And, sure enough, Spike soon emerged from his home, a pile of books under one arm. Angel watched as Spike taped a note on the door, then turned and headed out into the night. Curious, he went over to read the note.
Went to the library to work on our project for class. Come on in and wait. I should be back by one, unless I get kicked out earlier. Spike.
"Why thank you, Spike, for inviting me in," Angel said, forcing the locked door open. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then stepped inside.
Angel paused in the doorway, surprised at the cheeriness of the softly lit room. Closing the door behind him, he slowly took in his surroundings. To his right was a living room, complete with couch, coffee table, end table, entertainment center and bookshelf. To his left was a kitchen. He could see a hallway straight ahead that led to a bedroom and bathroom.
Angel stepped closer to the pile of books laying on the coffee table. "Advanced Latin, Ancient Philosophers, Adolescent Psychology," he read the textbook covers. Puzzled, he turned to the bookshelf. On it he found more textbooks as well as a variety of other books, including a few paperback romances.
He went to continue his survey of Spikeís apartment when a framed picture caught his eye. Stepping closer, Angel realized it was a drawing of Spike. A very good drawing. "I wonder who did this," Angel said aloud. He looked for a signature, but only found an inscription: A Window to his Soul.
With a shrug, Angel made his way into the kitchen. Opening cabinets at random, he was shocked to see they held all the things necessary for cooking and eating. Food stocked the pantry as well as the refrigerator. "Ok, Spike, whatís the deal?" Angel asked the empty home. "Are you shacking up with a human?"
Shaking his head, Angel went into the bedroom. Turning on the light, he was shocked to see a familiar face sitting amidst the pillows on the bed. "Mr. Gordo?" Angel walked over and picked up the pig, studying it. It was indeed Buffyís stuffed animal. He wondered how Spike managed to snag it and why it was in the bed.
Angelís thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. He tossed the pig on the bed and hurried to the bedroom door, flipping off the lights. He flattened himself to the wall, listening.
"Whatís the big secret?" Angel heard Spike say, then the sound of books landing on the coffee table. "Címon, pet. Please?"
Angel waited for whomever Spike was with to speak, but the only sound was the front door closing again. Curious, Angel hurried to the front door, opened it cautiously and looked around for Spike. He was nowhere to be seen.
"What are we doing here?" Spike asked Buffy as they entered the old mansion where Spike had made his home all those years ago.
"We," Buffy announced with a grand gesture. "Are hunting."
"Hunting?" Spike said. "For what? Rats?"
"No, silly," Buffy replied. She turned on one of the battery operated lanterns she was carrying and set it on the fireplace mantle. "We are hunting for your rag doll."
"My what?" Spike asked, as Buffy grabbed the other lantern and turned it on as well. The main hall was lit enough to see various trunks and other objects scattered around the room.
"Your rag doll. You know, the one you carried around over the years and you donít know whyÖ" Buffy said. She gave him an exasperated look.
"Oh, you mean Floppy," Spike said, looking around the room.
"Floppy?" Buffy started to laugh. "Floppy? You named him Floppy?"
"Watch it, pet," Spike warned. He went over to a trunk and opened it. "I didnít make fun of your Mr. Gordo."
"Sorry," Buffy smothered her laughter. She began searching through another trunk. "Whatís with all these porcelain dolls?"
"They were Druís," Spike answered her, moving to another trunk. "She use to have tea parties with them. Oh, and watch out for bones."
"Bird bones, dog bones, cat bones," Spike said. "She kept them all."
"What in the world did you see in her?" Buffy asked, shuddering at the thought of Drusilla playing tea with dead animals.
"She was my princess," Spike said. "My Black Queen. I did everything for her."
"You didnít answer my question," Buffy said.
"How am I suppose to answer it, pet?" Spike asked her. "You canít control who you bloody love. Look at the two of us."
"I loved a vampire before," Buffy defended herself.
"Yeah, but he was a wuss with a bloody soul," Spike said. "Almost human. Iím not."
Buffy scowled at him. "Donít call him a wuss."
"Well, he was one," Spike said, closing the second trunk with a bang. "All soft and sappy. Made me want to puke."
"Oh, really?" Buffy said, standing. She moved to a pile of clothes and dolls in the corner of the room. "What does that make you, Mr. I-have-a-doll-named-Floppy-and-am-in-love-with-the-Slayer?"
"Sick," Spike replied, digging through the contents of the velvet lined trunk. "Demented. Off my rocker."
"Tell me what you really think," Buffy said, laughing. "What do the other vamps call you?"
"Unless they are in the habit of reading the Sunnydale Times, I doubt they know, luv," Spike answered. "I still feed and fight you from time to time."
"I thought youíd stopped killing?"
"I did," Spike said. "Which is a bloody nuisance. It takes me practically all night to get a decent meal."
"Poor baby," Buffy said, moving once again. "Iím gonna check in there," she motioned to a room next to the fireplace.
"Be my guest," Spike said, holding Miss Edith in his hand. He sat on his haunches and let the memories of Drusilla wash over him.
Buffy went into the room and held the lantern up high. It was a bedroom, complete with all the trappings of one. With a grin, she saw an object in the corner and hurried over to it, not pausing to think why it was in the bedroom rather than in the great hall.
Spike, meanwhile, was deep in thought and didnít notice another vampire approaching. Angel paused in the broken window outside the hall and watched as Spike sat holding Miss Edith. *Now, whyíd he come here?* Angel asked himself. He was about to make his presence know when he heard a familiar voice call from the bedroom.
"Oh, Spike?" Buffy called. Spike looked up from the doll and to the bedroom door. Buffy came rolling out of the bedroom in the wheelchair that he had been trapped in for so many months. "Looky what I found."
"Oh, joy," Spike said, putting Miss Edith back into the trunk. "I did so want to be reminded of when you dropped a bloody organ on me."
"Hey, it wasnít just me. Kendra helped," Buffy said cheerfully, wheeling towards him.
"Happy much?" Spike asked, glaring at the smiling blond.
Buffy started to chuckle. "You sound like me," she told the vampire. "I think Iím going to have to report that to Giles."
"Bloody hell," Spike said. "Another thing that your Watcher can rib me about. You should have heard him while I was researchiní for our project."
"Just remind him that heís doing the watoosi with Willow. Thatíll shut him up," Buffy told him, spinning in circles.
"Is that what itís called nowadays?" Spike arched an eyebrow. He stood and walked over to her, stopping the wheelchair with his hands on the handles.
"Yup. Itís less crude than Ďgetting pelvicí as Xander puts it," Buffy said. She tilted her head back to see her man.
"I really donít like that boy," Spike told her. "Are you positive I canít eat him?"
"Sorry, luv," Buffy said, mimicking his accent. "Heíll leave a bad taste in your mouth."
"Cute," Spike said. He then smiled devilishly down at her. "Hold on tight."
Spikeís grin widened and he took off at a run, pushing Buffy in the wheelchair. Buffy squealed, grabbing the arms of the chair tightly. They rounded a corner on one wheel and ran down another hall.
Angel couldnít believe his eyes or ears. Spike with Buffy?! It must be some kind of sick joke. Maybe he was still in hell. He watched as the two careened back into sight, laughing.
"Oh, hey," Buffy said as soon as she was able. "Is this Floppy?" She held up a well-worn rag doll.
"You found him!" Spike said, snatching the doll from Buffyís hand. Buffy started to laugh again at the deliriously happy expression on Spikeís face. "Where was he?"
"In the bedroom on the chair," Buffy told him. She glanced at her watch. "Címon. I have to be home in another hour. Tomorrow mom, Will, Cordy and I are going dress hunting."
The two lovers left the mansion, arm in arm, chatting about the type of dress Buffy was looking for. Angel stood in the darkness as the silence descended upon him. His mind was awhirl with all he had discovered.
"My Angel," Drusillaís voice came out of the darkness behind him. "Welcome home."
"Dru," Angel said, turning to the female vampire. "What are you doing here?"
"I felt you come home," she said. "Home to me." Drusilla began to dance around the garden.
"Why arenít you with Spike?" Angel asked patiently. He knew the best way to deal with the female was to humor her.
"Heís in love with the Slayer," Dru told him in a sing song voice. "Itís all dark where she is. Make her go away."
Angel sighed, his own heart heavy. Drusillaís visions were always accurate. If she said Spike was in love with Buffy, it was undoubtedly true. But what about Buffy?
"Iím going to be a psychologist," Buffy declared upon entering Spikeís condo.
Spike looked up from the paper he was writing. Buffy removed her coat, hanging it on the rack behind the door, then walked over to him in the kitchen. "When did you decide?" Spike asked.
"Just today," Buffy told him, kissing the top of his peroxide blond head. She pulled a soda out of the refrigerator and sat down. "I was working on the Adolescent Psych homework when I realized that I went through a lot of the stuff the book was talking about," she said, taking a sip. "That, plus all my slaying duties. If I survived, I could help others survive, too."
"Thatís wonderful, pet," Spike said. "You do know youíll have to have a lot of schooling before youíre licensed."
"Yeah, I know," Buffy answered. "But you have the money." She grinned at him.
"At the rate you go through it, Iíll be broke before our first anniversary," Spike told her. "Speakiní of which, howíd dress hunting go?"
"Great! After five stores and getting dresses and undressed fifty times, I finally found one," she replied. "Itís so beautiful. Youíre gonna love it!"
"Can I see it?"
"No! Not before the wedding. Itís bad luck."
"And falling in love with a vampire isnít," Spike said with a devilish grin.
"Well, if you put it that wayÖ" Buffy trailed off with a screech as Spike attacked her. He picked her up and threw her over one shoulder, carrying her to the bedroom. Once there, Spike proceeded to show Buffy just how lucky she really was.