Again I Go Unnoticed
folder
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
2,147
Reviews:
20
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
BtVS AU/AR › Het - Male/Female › Buffy/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
17
Views:
2,147
Reviews:
20
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Topsy-Turvy Effect
Disclaimer: He is my lover, he is the air that I breath, he is my confidant, my shoulder to cry on, the first person I go to when I’m in need for a dime bag. He is one of 8 possible fathers of my unborn child (see you on Maury!), and he is the creator of the characters that appear in this story. He is Joss Whedon.
**
The Topsy-Turvy Effect
Gingerly, she brought the cup of coffee closer to her lips; the sweet aroma wafting from the mug elicited a contented sigh followed by a giggle of pure happiness. So this is what serenity means – this was Juan Valdez’s mission statement.
Joyce carefully sipped from the mug and allowed her brain to switch into perfectly happy mode; there were deer and tiny bunnies with big eyes grazing and singing Disney tunes and Juan himself was smiling from ear to ear as he continually replenished the coffee maker…
And then as if it were a gift from the bowels of hell, the sound of a door upstairs (undoubtedly Buffy’s) crashing into its frame killed and buried Joyce’s perfect moment. The deer and other woodland creatures frolicking by the refrigerator barreled out of the door for the safety of a busy intersection, and had had stuffed his fine beans into a bag and gave her the finger while cursing in Spanish.
Five seconds after the first earsplitting crash, the door slammed again but this time was, followed by indecipherable, yet loud, arguing.
With another sigh (completely contentment free), Joyce looked down at the rather large, brown stain now decorating the front of her white blouse.
Is it wrong to hope they kill each other?
“I told you to drop it!” Buffy screamed storming into the kitchen; Spike was not far behind and equally as loud.
“Fine! Go on being a sodding sheep! See if I care!”
Finishing off what was left of her coffee, Joyce let her gaze drift in her daughter’s direction. “Morning, honey,” she deadpanned.
“Morning,” Buffy replied absently as she proceeded to rummage through cabinet after cabinet. “I thought we had doughnuts; I remember seeing a huge box filled with glaze-y Krisreamream!” Wild-eyed she turned to her mother and cried desperately. “I need something glaze-y!”
“Lets see – you’ve already plowed your way through two rather large bowls of Lucky Charms and now you’re harping about doughnuts?!” Spike snickered, “Harboring a tapeworm, luv?”
Emerald eyes narrowed into slits. “Those of us in this room who are accented, need to be quiet right now.”
An excruciatingly tense silence hung over the room and Joyce exchanged a look from one seething, bottle blonde to the other, a tiny smile gracing her lips before she carefully slid off of the barstool. Oh yeah, Buffy/William sleepovers are definitely out of the question from now on.
“Wow, would you look at the time!” Joyce loudly spoke up ending the glare-fest the two teens were locked in. “It’s almost 8:10, you guys are going to be late if you don’t hurry. Honey, I’ll grab a box of Krispy Kream on my way home.” Smiling, she breezed out of the kitchen. “Good luck working things out you two!” she called back.
With a roll of her eyes, Buffy sighed, “Give me a ride?”
“Yeah, sure,” Spike grumbled following her out the door.
**
At exactly 8:20 and just in time for the sounding of the first bell, Spike’s Volvo swung into the senior parking lot.
The members of the student body reluctantly heading into Sunnydale’s hallowed halls stopped cold at the sight. The car and its owner that hadn’t been seen for an entire week amidst rumors of bad drug deals and suicide was now here and parked in its oil-spotted space near the back of the lot.
There was an audible gasp from the crowd when Buffy Summers elegantly exited the vehicle and baffled looks were exchanged as she actually waited on William Hall to do the same. Climbing out, he quickly smoothed out his oversized, baggy, brown button-up shirt, pulled the beanie farther down on his head, and adjusted his glasses.
They walked side by side and appeared to be talking!
The moment the pair passed by the slack-jawed members of the ‘Rich Bitches’, Buffy gave a nod and a smile in her friend’s direction.
“Hey guys,” she said casually.
“Good morning, Buffy,” Anya was the only one to reply.
“You all saw that, right?!” Cecily squeaked. “I’m not the only one who saw that?!”
Cordelia shook her head in utter disbelief. “My whole world’s askew.” Looking down at the iced café mocha in her hand, she unceremoniously chucked it over her shoulder. “Never drinking two mochas this early in the morning again. Never. Ever. Again.”
**
“So, is our last official study session still on for Thursday?”
Spike raised a brow as he worked the combination on his locker. “I don’t think it’s really necessary considering this morning’s little revelation.”
Buffy shrugged. “How bout one minus the books?”
He turned to face her fully prepared to shoot off the best sarcastic comment, but the completely earnest look on her features caused the clever witticism to die on lips.
Getting the meaning, Spike smiled. “Sure, we can do that.”
“Cool.” Buffy nodded curtly. “Well, I’m scheduled for an Algebra III related prayer session in homeroom, so I’ll see you later.”
He chortled. “Good luck.”
“You too,” she smiled, “oh and let me know how that chemistry thing goes. I’ve gotta suffer through Mr. Ander’s tomorrow; better yet, just slip me the answers – no one will be the wiser.”
“In your dreams, Princess!” Spike called after her. Closing the locker he made it a grand total of five steps before his books were purposely knocked out of his hands clattering to the ground.
Trying to ignore the chorus of laughter sounding all around him, Spike gritted his teeth and briefly shut his eyes.
“Oh, god, I’m sorry, Willie,” the boy apologized snidely. “Guess I didn’t see ya standing there.”
“Pick. Them. Up,” Spike said, voice clipped.
“Now, I don’t know about that,” He grinned at his friends, “I mean, you’re so much more closer than I…”
The words barely made it out of moutmouth as the boy suddenly found himself slammed up against the row of lockers to the right of them.
“What the fuck, man!” he cried out in pain.
Inching closer to his would be tormentor’s face, Spike growled, “You’ve got five seconds to pick up every single fucking book on that sodding floor, before I get really unhappy.”
“Right, right – no problem, Willie…”
“William,” he coolly corrected him.
“William, I mean. Sorry about that.” Quickly he gathered the books and deposited them in Spike’s arms. “Again, I’m really sorry – I’ll watch where I’m going next time.”
And without another word or another glance in anyone’s general direction, Spike casually strode down the hall towards his homeroom – only this time without interruption.
**
“Nice of you to rejoin us, Mr. Hall,” the teacher greeted as Spike walked in the door. “Please stack your books on the back shelf with the others.”
With a nod, Spike headed towards the back of the room; the gaggle of students crowded around virtually parted like the Red Sea, falling over themselves to get out of his way. Once the books were safely tucked away, he slid smoothly into his seat and smiled to himself:
Bloody good to be back.
To Be Continued…
**
The Topsy-Turvy Effect
Gingerly, she brought the cup of coffee closer to her lips; the sweet aroma wafting from the mug elicited a contented sigh followed by a giggle of pure happiness. So this is what serenity means – this was Juan Valdez’s mission statement.
Joyce carefully sipped from the mug and allowed her brain to switch into perfectly happy mode; there were deer and tiny bunnies with big eyes grazing and singing Disney tunes and Juan himself was smiling from ear to ear as he continually replenished the coffee maker…
And then as if it were a gift from the bowels of hell, the sound of a door upstairs (undoubtedly Buffy’s) crashing into its frame killed and buried Joyce’s perfect moment. The deer and other woodland creatures frolicking by the refrigerator barreled out of the door for the safety of a busy intersection, and had had stuffed his fine beans into a bag and gave her the finger while cursing in Spanish.
Five seconds after the first earsplitting crash, the door slammed again but this time was, followed by indecipherable, yet loud, arguing.
With another sigh (completely contentment free), Joyce looked down at the rather large, brown stain now decorating the front of her white blouse.
Is it wrong to hope they kill each other?
“I told you to drop it!” Buffy screamed storming into the kitchen; Spike was not far behind and equally as loud.
“Fine! Go on being a sodding sheep! See if I care!”
Finishing off what was left of her coffee, Joyce let her gaze drift in her daughter’s direction. “Morning, honey,” she deadpanned.
“Morning,” Buffy replied absently as she proceeded to rummage through cabinet after cabinet. “I thought we had doughnuts; I remember seeing a huge box filled with glaze-y Krisreamream!” Wild-eyed she turned to her mother and cried desperately. “I need something glaze-y!”
“Lets see – you’ve already plowed your way through two rather large bowls of Lucky Charms and now you’re harping about doughnuts?!” Spike snickered, “Harboring a tapeworm, luv?”
Emerald eyes narrowed into slits. “Those of us in this room who are accented, need to be quiet right now.”
An excruciatingly tense silence hung over the room and Joyce exchanged a look from one seething, bottle blonde to the other, a tiny smile gracing her lips before she carefully slid off of the barstool. Oh yeah, Buffy/William sleepovers are definitely out of the question from now on.
“Wow, would you look at the time!” Joyce loudly spoke up ending the glare-fest the two teens were locked in. “It’s almost 8:10, you guys are going to be late if you don’t hurry. Honey, I’ll grab a box of Krispy Kream on my way home.” Smiling, she breezed out of the kitchen. “Good luck working things out you two!” she called back.
With a roll of her eyes, Buffy sighed, “Give me a ride?”
“Yeah, sure,” Spike grumbled following her out the door.
**
At exactly 8:20 and just in time for the sounding of the first bell, Spike’s Volvo swung into the senior parking lot.
The members of the student body reluctantly heading into Sunnydale’s hallowed halls stopped cold at the sight. The car and its owner that hadn’t been seen for an entire week amidst rumors of bad drug deals and suicide was now here and parked in its oil-spotted space near the back of the lot.
There was an audible gasp from the crowd when Buffy Summers elegantly exited the vehicle and baffled looks were exchanged as she actually waited on William Hall to do the same. Climbing out, he quickly smoothed out his oversized, baggy, brown button-up shirt, pulled the beanie farther down on his head, and adjusted his glasses.
They walked side by side and appeared to be talking!
The moment the pair passed by the slack-jawed members of the ‘Rich Bitches’, Buffy gave a nod and a smile in her friend’s direction.
“Hey guys,” she said casually.
“Good morning, Buffy,” Anya was the only one to reply.
“You all saw that, right?!” Cecily squeaked. “I’m not the only one who saw that?!”
Cordelia shook her head in utter disbelief. “My whole world’s askew.” Looking down at the iced café mocha in her hand, she unceremoniously chucked it over her shoulder. “Never drinking two mochas this early in the morning again. Never. Ever. Again.”
**
“So, is our last official study session still on for Thursday?”
Spike raised a brow as he worked the combination on his locker. “I don’t think it’s really necessary considering this morning’s little revelation.”
Buffy shrugged. “How bout one minus the books?”
He turned to face her fully prepared to shoot off the best sarcastic comment, but the completely earnest look on her features caused the clever witticism to die on lips.
Getting the meaning, Spike smiled. “Sure, we can do that.”
“Cool.” Buffy nodded curtly. “Well, I’m scheduled for an Algebra III related prayer session in homeroom, so I’ll see you later.”
He chortled. “Good luck.”
“You too,” she smiled, “oh and let me know how that chemistry thing goes. I’ve gotta suffer through Mr. Ander’s tomorrow; better yet, just slip me the answers – no one will be the wiser.”
“In your dreams, Princess!” Spike called after her. Closing the locker he made it a grand total of five steps before his books were purposely knocked out of his hands clattering to the ground.
Trying to ignore the chorus of laughter sounding all around him, Spike gritted his teeth and briefly shut his eyes.
“Oh, god, I’m sorry, Willie,” the boy apologized snidely. “Guess I didn’t see ya standing there.”
“Pick. Them. Up,” Spike said, voice clipped.
“Now, I don’t know about that,” He grinned at his friends, “I mean, you’re so much more closer than I…”
The words barely made it out of moutmouth as the boy suddenly found himself slammed up against the row of lockers to the right of them.
“What the fuck, man!” he cried out in pain.
Inching closer to his would be tormentor’s face, Spike growled, “You’ve got five seconds to pick up every single fucking book on that sodding floor, before I get really unhappy.”
“Right, right – no problem, Willie…”
“William,” he coolly corrected him.
“William, I mean. Sorry about that.” Quickly he gathered the books and deposited them in Spike’s arms. “Again, I’m really sorry – I’ll watch where I’m going next time.”
And without another word or another glance in anyone’s general direction, Spike casually strode down the hall towards his homeroom – only this time without interruption.
**
“Nice of you to rejoin us, Mr. Hall,” the teacher greeted as Spike walked in the door. “Please stack your books on the back shelf with the others.”
With a nod, Spike headed towards the back of the room; the gaggle of students crowded around virtually parted like the Red Sea, falling over themselves to get out of his way. Once the books were safely tucked away, he slid smoothly into his seat and smiled to himself:
Bloody good to be back.
To Be Continued…