Again I Go Unnoticed

“Thanks in part to some comments concerning how and I quote ‘F-ing pointless P.E. is on the last week of school’,” Coach Butler shot a very pointed look in the direction of Cordelia, “we’ve decided to give you people a final.”

The gym erupted with load groans from the teenagers.

“Your grade will be determined by the time it takes for you to complete a mile run around the track,” the coach spoke sternly as he paced back and forth in front of the students. Stopping suddenly, he looked down at the clipboard in hand and rattled off the names. “Group one: Chase, Connelly, Hope, Jenkins, Lockley, Lind, Monroe, Porter, and Summers; you’re up, head outside.”

Cordelia smiled sheepishly in an attempt to deflect the glares from the others. “What? It’s not like I knew Coach Butler was standing right behind me when I said that!” she explained as they filed out of the gym.

“And I thought I could avoid communal showers today,” Kate Lockely frowned, storming past the girls. “Thanks a lot, Chase!”

Angrily, Cordelia cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted. “It’s not my fault you have the armpit sweat of a man!” Turning to Buffy and Anya she added, “Biatch.”

Buffy snickered. “Very classy, Cordy.”

“What? Have you gotten a whiff of that girl post-gym?! There isn’t enough degrees in Degree to melt that stink off,” Cordy huffed. “I’m doing her a favor.”

“Buffy!”

The three girls stopped dead in their tracks at the sound of Angel’s voice,

“You guys go on ahead,” Buffy sighed, reluctantly waving her friends off, “I’ll catch up in a minute.”

Quickly, he jogged to her side giving her an awkward smile. “Any particular reason why you’ve been ignoring me all day?”

“I haven’t been ignoring you,” she said nonchalantly. “I’ve just – chosen not to acknowledge your presence at this time.”

Angel frowned. “Which eerily fits the definition of ‘ignoring’.”

“According to some people,” Buffy replied curtly, turning away from him and continuing the hated walk to the track.

Angel hurried to her side once again, falling in perfect step with the tiny blonde. “What is this, Buffy?”

“What is what?”

“This!” he cried out, irritated. “This – this you getting morning rides from Wee-Willie, and picking fights with Cecily, and not calling or responding to any of the fifty or so messages I left on your phone, and now the ignoring me as if I’ve done something wrong!”

Buffy’s feet came to a grinding halt and she stared at her boyfriend with eyes as hard as steel. “You. Told. Her.”

His brow scrunched in confusion. “Told who what?”

“Cecily.” Her teeth clenched. “She knew what happened…” with a snort, Buffy amended the sentence, “what didn’t happen in the janitor’s closet. You told her.”

Angel shrugged. “She’s a friend. I needed to talk to someone about it.”

Fists clenching at her side, Buffy fought the very powerful urge to choke him. “The next time you feel the need to hug and kiss, share and grow, save it for a fucking diary. What happens between you and me is not her business.”

“What is happening between us, Buffy?!”

“Absolutely nothing, Angel!” she threw her hands in the air. “That’s been the problem for the last four years!”

He inched closer to her, closing the space between them, and lowered his voice. “I thought we agreed to take things slow.”

Buffy let out a humorless laugh. “Slow? We’re moving at the speed of a Special Olympics hurdler.”

“So, you’re saying you’re ready?”

“Been ready.”

“Okay,” Angel smiled taking her hand. “My mom won’t be home until six o’clock this evening – you could come over and…”

Her face fell. “I can’t this afternoon – study thing…”

“Right. How could I forget,” Angel sighed heavily.

“How about Saturday night? School’ll be a distant, painful memory, graduation will be over and done for, and most importantly, no forced time with Willie.” Buffy smiled brightly. “I’ll be all yours.”

“Saturday night…” Angel paused, mulling it over before a big grin appeared on his lips. “Sounds perfect.”

**

I’ve won.

The thought sounded good. No, it was better than good – make that great.

I’ve won.

This time an involuntary smile curled on her pouty lips and Buffy found her step to be a bit more on the bouncier side of things as she caught up to Anya and Cordelia. The baking noonday sun, the awful required, standard maroon Sunnydale gym shorts, even the fact she’d forgotten her Lady Speedstick this morning didn’t faze her now.

Come Saturday she would no longer be hymen-challenged and Spike would have to perform whatever task her brain could cook up; personal slave was sounding better and better by the minute…

“Why are you so smiley all of a sudden?” Cordelia asked, studying Buffy closely. Pushing a strand of damp, limp hair out of her face she cried, “Oh god! I’m breaking a sweat! I’m breaking a sweat – I hope Coach Butler gets one of those really bad jock related rashes in a region that’s embarrassing to scratch in public.”

“I take it things are okay between you and Angel,” Anya said rather breathy as she jogged.

“Very, very okay.” Buffy’s smile, widened.

Anya clapped excitedly. “Ooh, great! I have a present for you – but I wasn’t sure if you would need it or not, and now you’ve clearly got a ‘I’m going to get some’ look on your face so everything worked out perfectly!”

Cordelia let out a very unlady like snort and Buffy frowned. “What kind of present? Is the mind-numbing fear I’m feeling right now irrational?”

“Completely irrational.” Anya nodded smiling brightly. “You’re gonna love me, Buffy.”

**

It was like gazing upon the Holy Grail. If the Holy Grail were promised to hold wonderfully dirty, not meant for the good Christians’ eyes, things.

Buffy looked on in pure wondermes Ans Anya pulled the metal box from the confines of her gym locker. Ceremoniously, it was placed in her hands and the blonde teen almost swore she could hear the ‘Hallelujah’ chorus sounding behind her.

“This is the Jenkins Sex Survival Kit,” Anya announced proudly. “Everything you’re sure to need to successfully survive your first time with intercourse.”

Cordelia folded her arms over her chest, lip quirking upwards. “I never got one of those.”

Anya gave her a look. “Oh please, Cordy. That ship had sailed long before I met you.”

Carefully turning the box over in her hands, Buffy asked, “What the hell’s in this thing?”

“You’ve got your standard stuff: condoms -- ranging from small to magnum, flavored lubricant, Monistat Seven…”

Buffy looked at her curiously. “Monistat Seven?”

Anya merely smiled and patted her on the shoulder. “Monistat Seven – you’ll thank me later.”

“What else is in the ‘Anya-Box-O-Love’?” Cordy smirked.

“A few…non-standard things,” she beamed. “Surprises, really. I’ll let you discover those all on your own.” Stern expression settling on her features, she added, “Above all else, Buffy, remember to be safe; and make sure you’re doing this for all of the right reasons.”

Buffy nodded, smiling. “Totally doing this for the right reasons.”

**

“You’re looking smug.”

Shrugging innocently, Buffy piled into Spike’s car. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He quirked a brow. “Uh-huh.”

“There’s no smugness here.” She grinned. “Ready to get reacquainted with the boys of Color Me Bad?”

Narrowing his eyes, Spike turned the key in the ignition and peeled out of the parking lot.

“There will be no sodding Color Me Bad in this car ever again.”

“I could always put on a little Boys II Men,” Buffy laughed cheekily.

“I have half a mind to toss your scrawny ass right out of this car,” he snapped good-naturedly. Smiling, Spike sneaked a glance at the metal box Buffy had practically been holding onto for dear life since the last bell of the day sounded. “Oi, what’s in the box? A kidney?”

She turned away from the window to face him. “Huh?”

“The piece of tin,” One hand left the steering wheel to gesture wildly, “you’ve been smothering it as if it were your long, lost puppy or something.”

“Just a present from Anya,” Buffy said simply.

“Oh, a present from Anya…” he smiled lasciviously, tongue curling behind his teeth, “given you a ‘Kong’ of your own, huh?”

She sighed disgustedly, “No you pig…”

“That’s disappointing.”

“It’s a survival kit.”

Spike gave her a look. “Survival kit?”

“I don’t know everything that’s in it, but Anya says it’s ‘essential and very helpful’.”

“So open it.”

“Here?! With you?!” Buffy squeaked.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Yeah, here with me. I’m not gonna be bothered by any feminine hygienic products. Go ahead, dump out the Tampax mountain.”

“Tampons would be a walk in the park,” Buffy mumbled as she unhooked the tiny lock and flipped the lid. Eyes widening to comically huge proportions, she took in the sight before her. Everything was arranged so nice, so neatly. Meticulously labeled and in rows:

Contraception. Lubrication. Experience Enhancement Tools. Aftercare. Instructional Booklets…

And most importantly:

Instructional Videos.

“Well…” he began impatiently, “what the hell’s in it?”

Her brain completely ignored all of the truly responsible, helpful things in the Jenkins Kit and chose to focus on one aspect only,

“Porn.”

Spike’s head quickly whipped around, eyese. “e. “What?!”

“Porn,” Buffy repeated. “Three, well stacked DVD’s of porn.” A beat, “Is Anya from this planet?!”

“I’ve never actually seen a porno…” he rambled offhandedly.

“I mean – she’s like Pervy the Smut Fairy! With the – the traveling dildos and the sex kits, and the porn…”

“We have to watch it.”

“What?!”

“We have to watch it,” Spike repeated slowly as if he were speaking to a moron.

“Oh no we don’t!” Buffy shouted, her voice raising an octave.

“Your mom won’t be home until round six,” an evil smile formed on his lips, “we’ve got plenty of time to make it through at least one of those things.”

“Are you out of your mind?!”

He shrugged still grinning. “Curiosity has gotten the better of me. This little competition has got to be as even as possible, Summers, and if you’re getting the sexual tutorial so should I.”

Buffy swallowed the hardened lump that had formed in her throat the second the Volvo pulled into her driveway.

“After all, Princess, it’s only fair.”


To Be Continued…