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SUMMARY: Buffy is forced into a prophecy involving Spike. Can they both survive it?
DIST/ARCHIVE: Ask first
DISCLAIMER: Buffy, Spike, and co. don't belong to me, they belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This version has been toned down from it's original NC-17 version for the purpose of posting it on this site. However, it still uses bad language and mature subjects and so is rated PG-15, please read at your own discretion.
Buffy and Spike returned to the Summers' residence around 1 a.m. She and Angel had dusted several vamps as Spike watched, smoking while leaning against a tree. He had the nerve to give her pointers as she fought.
She reminded him that they had to be ready for school by 7:30 in order to pick up the things he'd need from the library, then went to bed, leaving him to do whatever. He tried to get some sleep, but couldn't. The bond was causing a dull pain to throb at his side. Finally giving in to the distraction, Spike grabbed a pillow and slept on Buffy's floor.
His first coherent thought was that someone was standing on his back. Blinking sleepily, he found the Slayer trying to wake him up. "Stop."
"Time to wake up," she sang sweetly. "We have to leave for school in fifteen minutes."
"Bugger off," he swore at her.
"Nope," Buffy said. "I'm not going to question as to why you're sleeping on my floor, but you have to get up. I can't be late or Snyder will nail my ass to the wall."
"That would be an interesting sight," Spike said, coming fully awake. Buffy only glared at him, then left the bedroom so he could get ready.
Ten minutes later, a clean vampire joined the Slayer and her mom in the kitchen. Buffy looked him over from head to toe and sighed. "What?"
"Don't you have any other clothes?" Buffy asked.
"I like my clothes," Spike defended. "And I'll have you know I own several other shirts and pants."
"Yeah, all the same," she chided. Joyce hid her smile in a cup of coffee. "Do you want anything before we go?"
"You have coffee?" he asked, sniffing the air. "Good coffee?"
"It's chocolate," Joyce offered.
He smiled brightly and moved around the island, opening cabinets at random in search of a mug. He found one with rainbows on it and poured himself some of the hot brew.
"Great," Buffy said. "Now he's going to be Mister Bouncy all day."
"What do you mean?" Joyce asked. Spike leaned against the counter, one foot crossed over the other, and drank his coffee.
"He's hyper-boy, mom. They put people on Ritalin for his condition," she said. Spike raised his eyebrow at her, but said nothing. With a sigh, she looked at the clock and groaned. "We have to get going."
"Just let me get my keys," Joyce said, setting her now empty mug in the sink.
Buffy picked up her bag and purse, digging through the latter. She pulled out a pair of sunglasses and slid them on her nose. Then she removed a second pair and handed them to Spike. "Here."
"For me?" Spike asked, incredulously. Buffy made a sound of annoyance, exiting the house and he smiled. Sliding the glasses on his own pale face, he followed the Slayer out of the house. "This is going to be such fun."
*****
Buffy sat next to Spike in Principal Snyder's office, waiting for the little troll to grace them with his presence. "How can you look so calm?" she asked the vampire.
"Practice," Spike answered truthfully. "Centuries of practice."
"Well, I see what you said was true, Ms. Summers," Principal Snyder said as he entered the room. He held the papers Willow had left with the secretary the day before in his hands. "Mr. Chapman...funny, you don't look Brazilian."
"That's because I'm English, mate," Spike answered. "I only lived in Brazil."
"I will not tolerate speaking back, Mr. Chapman. With your grades and record, I will be keeping my eye on you. Seeing that you already know Ms. Summers, I have volunteered her to be your guide. Now, get to class."
Buffy stood and led the way out the door, a coiled predator following behind her. She could feel Spike's irritation coming off of him in waves. When they got into the hallway, she pushed him against the lockers. "Behave."
Spike snarled at her, but forced himself to calm down. Students walked past the two, giving them curious looks, which he met with an evil stare. "Let go of me."
Buffy dropped her arms, took a step back and sighed heavily. "Come on. Let's stow your books and duster in your locker, then get to class. We have history first. Should be a breeze for you."
Trailing behind the Slayer, Spike grumbled to himself about pushy broads and Nazi trolls. They deposited his things in the locker, then went to class. After introducing Spike to the teacher, she dropped her bag on a desk, the headed back for the door.
"Where are you going?" Spike asked, stopping her.
"Chill. I'll be right back. Just take a seat and remember, you're a 18 year old high school student, not a two hundred year old dead guy," Buffy said.
"Undead, pet," Spike corrected. She rolled her eyes and left the room. He sauntered over to the desk next to her bag and slid into the seat. His casual air was in direct opposition to what was going on inside of him. He felt annoyance and nervousness all rolled into one. *I should have bloody killed her when I had the chance,* he thought, staring morosely out the window.
"Who's the hottie?" Harmony asked her friends as they spied Spike sitting by the window.
"Must be a transfer," Aurora said. They smiled to each other and took the chairs surrounding him, moving Buffy's bag onto another desk.
"Hi, I'm Harmony," she introduced herself to Spike, leaning against the front of his desk to show off her cleavage. "Are you new?"
Spike flashed a smile at her. "Yes, luv. Just started today."
At his accent, the other friends practically swooned. Spike tried hard not to laugh at their attempts. After more than two hundred years of experience, these girls knew nothing of the art of seduction. Maybe he'd teach them.
"You're in my seat."
Or not.
Buffy glared at the girl who had taken said seat, then turned her eyes to him. Seeing his droll smile, she seethed inside. This was suppose to be torture for him, too. Suddenly, she came up with an evil plan. "Oh, Spi-ike," she said in a husky voice as she moved past the desk and stopped in front of him. She thrust her lower lip out. "She took my seat, can I sit with you?"
Without waiting for an answer, she slid onto his lap and wiggled her hips as if to get comfortable. She almost lost it when the other girls eyes bugged at her actions. She brought a hand up and touched his cheek, turning her head to look him in the eyes.
And that was her mistake.
Spike's blue eyes blazed with the same fire she'd seen that night. She dropped her hand and gasped as she felt his erection straining against her bottom. Buffy didn't notice the girls move away as she stared at him.
"Slayer, you're going to get burned," Spike said in a low, dangerous tone.
With a small squeak, Buffy jumped off his lap and moved to her own desk. Her mind was racing, her breaths coming in short gasps as the bell rang. *What did he do to me?*
Spike brought his leg up to rest on the opposite knee to hide his arousal. *Bloody hell,* he cursed, shifting in his seat. *I hate that girl.*
The day went downhill from there. Both the Slayer and the vampire shot hateful glares at each other in every class. During the free period and lunch, they stayed as far away from one another as they could get without the distance pain acting up. When school finally ended, they were at they end of their ropes.
Buffy threw her bag and purse on the table of the library. It skittered right off the surface and onto the floor. Stomping into Giles' office, she pushed the Watcher out and slammed the door shut.
Spike, at the same time, dropped his books with a thunk on the counter, then dug out a cigarette and lit it. He glared at Giles when he went to protest.
Buffy emerged a few minutes later, in her workout clothes and scowled at Spike, hands on her hips. "Put that out!"
"Make me," Spike told her, puffing away.
"I was so hoping you'd say that," she said, stalking over to him. She snatched the offending smoke from his lips, turned it around and crushed it into his cheek.
With a roar of pain, Spike backhanded her. Her head snapped with the blow, but she did not stagger. With a predatory smile, she sent a flurry of punches at his face. He reeled, his back hitting the check out counter. Using that for leverage, he brought both legs up, kicking her away with the soles of his boots. She flew back across the room, but landed on her feet.
Snarling on her own, Buffy waiting until he came closer, then sent a spinning back kick to his head. Spike ducked, then grabbed the leg, sending her crashing to the floor. But that did not deter her. With her other foot, she kicked him in the groin and he dropped her leg, cupping himself in pain. She jumped to her feet and sent a cross flying to his face, knocking his head to one side. He punched her back in the gut, causing her to bend as well.
Deciding to resort to chick fighting, Buffy snatched his hair and smashed his face on an upraised knee. Blood shot out of his nose as he clamped on to her wrists, falling backwards onto the floor, sending her sailing once again across the room. She hit the check out desk hard, cutting her head on the edge of the countertop.
Giles watched in panic as his Slayer slowly got up and touched the back of her head. Her palm came away bloody, and she snarled again. He didn't know whether to stop the fight, or to let them go until one of them was unconscious.
Spike arched and leapt to his feet, spinning so he was facing the Slayer. His face had yet to morph into its demon countenance, but it was not because he lacked the fury. He took a step towards her and lashed his foot out in a side kick, hitting her hard. She grunted, but did not fold. She retaliated with her fists, bruising his cheeks and jaw.
She landed another lucky punch at his nose, breaking it. He returned the same.
Blood poured down both their faces and from the numerous gashes on their bodies. Buffy's hair was matted with the thick red stuff in the back from her smashing into the desk. Ribs ground together as they broke from the kicks and punches. Yet, neither of them gave into the pain.
The Slayer stamped on Spike's instep, then grabbed his wrist and threw him over her shoulder. He crashed down on top of the check out counter. She grabbed his hair again and yanked him to the floor. She brought her heel down and smashed his breastbone.
With a growl, he pulled her feet from under her, and she fell with a thud. He moved quickly, pinning her to the ground with his weight. She couldn't throw him over her head, like he did to her, because she was perpendicular to the counter. She tried to get her feet under him to push him away, but couldn't as he grabbed both wrists and held them above her head.
His blazing blue eyes met hers as the blood dripped from his face. He wanted to sink his fangs into her neck, proving dominance, but his face refused to change. Instead, he smashed his cut lips to hers, grinding them together, teeth clashing. He thrust his tongue forcefully into her mouth, drawing her own into a battle of a different sort. The air was ripe with tension, thick, electric. Power radiated from their savage emotions as they continued to fight, not with their fists, but with their mouths.
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!"
Giles paled at the intruder, rushing to his side and practically pushing him out the library doors. "Principal Snyder, I-I-I can ex-explain."
Snyder yanked himself from Giles' grasp and stormed back into the library. The two were still on the floor, not having heard the interruption. With his own anger, he grabbed the back of Spike's shirt and ripped him off of Buffy.
At the sudden loss of weight, Buffy gasped deeply, filling her sore lungs with much needed air. She panted on the floor, eyes squeezed shut, bruises forming and blood drying on her face.
Spike had felt himself being torn away from the Slayer, then thrown to the floor. Snarling, he rose slowly to his feet, ready to destroy. His own face was bloodied and broken, his knuckles raw as he clenched his fists. His eyes had narrowed to deadly slits as he looked at the fool who interfered.
"Ms. Summers, why am I not surprised," Snyder said, looking down at the beaten girl. He did not see Spike standing behind him, poised to strike.
"Spike, don't," Buffy gasped out, struggling to sit up. She saw Giles out of the corner of her eye. "Giles, get him out of here. NOW."
Giles nodded and grabbed Snyder's arm again, instinctively knowing that it was the principal she was speaking about. He let the Ripper come out enough to shove the man out of the library and hold him there.
Buffy used the counter to push herself to her feet. She focused on Spike, rather than the pain, and saw that he had calmed somewhat. She took a step towards him, then collapsed to the floor as her knees gave out.
Spike saw her fall and was immediately at her side. He helped her to stand, then they both hobbled to Giles' office. He released the Slayer gently onto the couch, glad there was nothing on it, and took an ice pack out of the small refrigerator. He gently placed it over her eyes, then sank onto the seat next to her.
"Fuck."
"My sentiments exactly," Buffy said in a rough voice. They both started to chuckle, turning into moans of pain as their bodies protested.
