Full Summary: Buffy Summers is failing her junior year. Sunnydale High School is the third school Buffy's attended in the past two years. Joyce Summers, Buffy's mother, is determined to make Sunnydale work. So, she hires one of her college students, William (Spike) Giles, to be Buffy's personal tutor. They instantly click, having lots in common. But Buffy knows that when it comes to being friends (or more), it will never happen. She's 17, a junior in high school. He's 22, a senior in college. Why would he want to hang out with her? That's the question Spike finds himself asking as well.

Rating: R for harsh cursing, adult situations, sexual content (sex with a minor) and anything else that's not PG-13 :) [some of what is mentioned comes into play in later chapters]

Spoilers: None! Completely AU (and All Human).

Disclaimers: I own nothing that has to do with Buffy. Or well anything. I'm actually rather poor.

Chapter One: First Session

I groaned as I grabbed my books off my desk, tossing them into my black messenger bag. Mom had just signed me up for daily tutoring sessions with some student of hers. Like I'm actually going to learn something! My mom and I live on the Sunnydale University campus. She's an English professor. She's all prim and proper with a daughter like me. It's such a joke.

I checked my reflection before leaving my room. My tight blue jeans had holes ripped in them (mostly in the knees) -- and as out of date as it sounds, I think it's hot. I was also wearing a bright pink halter-top. My short, bitten nails were painted black. My long, perfectly straight, blonde hair was "ruined" (the word used by my mother) with turquoise dyed tips, about two and a half inches long at the bottom. Grabbing my CD player off the table next to our front door, I hit play, bringing the Clash into my waiting ears. I hummed along as I walked almost aimlessly in the direction of the library.

Mom had mentioned he was British. He was probably uptight and proper like my mother. No wonder she was so glad to get him to tutor me. I'd probably also be learning about etiquette and all that shit.

Just then, this campus jackass, Angel, passed by. I felt him slap me on the ass, knowing it would aggravate me. I ripped off my headphones and turned to glare at him. "Hey there, Buffy."

"Fuck off, Angel." I spat his name as best I could.

"Oh, come on, Buffy. You know you want me." He thought that just because he was on the football team and was good looking, or whatever, that he could automatically get whomever he wanted. I hate egotistical shitbags like that.

"You're a pig." I began walking toward the library again. But the fucker wouldn't quit. He just didn't get it, did he?

"Oh, I get it. You want me to be all romantic and shit." He smirked. "Want me to carry your books, Buffy?" he asked, gesturing towards my messenger bag.

I turned on my heel, glaring directly at him. "No. I want said books to be shoved up your ass."

Suddenly this random guy walked up and stood in between Angel and me. It was really creepy. They did the whole stare each other down thing that guys do. Angel was taller and bulkier than this new guy was, but you could see that he had the superiority or something (which isn't hard…Angel's a freak).

Having the chance to check him out, I did so. Bleached blonde hair gelled back. He was wearing a tight black muscle shirt, showing off his (unfortunately pale, but still nice) muscular arms. Black pants, black combat boots, a few silver bracelets. Basically, all around sexy, ya know?

"I think the girl wants you to bugger off, mate." Oh! British! He's British!

"I think I want you to 'bugger off'," Angel mocked. What a jackass.

"Not bloody likely." Oh! British! He's British! Hehe. Then, ignoring Angel, the guy turned to me. " 'ello Buffy. I'm Spike. But your mum refers to me as 'William.' I'm going to be your tutor." My jaw dropped.

"You're my tutor?" I gawked. I guess you don't get too many British guys on campus…

"Um. Yeah. Not what you were expecting, eh?" I shook my head. "Well, our lesson started a few minutes ago so we should probably get to it." I nodded.

I looked over at Angel. What a freak! He was still standing there. Grrr. "See ya, jackass!" He just stormed off. I couldn't help but laugh.

'Spike' and I settled down at a table in a private study room. "So what exactly are you failing? Your mum didn't tell me what I was going to be tutoring you in." I blushed. Great.

"Um. Everything? Well except Philosophy, I have an 'A-' in there." I offered, slightly embarrassed. He chuckled.

"Ok, then how about during this session, we just go over how you're going to be organized and what not. Study habits, things like that." I nodded. "First of all, you need to choose a place that you are always going to do your homework. Habit always helps. I find that I always do best studying in the library. If I'm back in my dorm, I'll get sidetracked. So I only do my studying here.

"What I hear from your mum, you need to start doing your homework as well. See, with high school, it's rather simple. You can usually pass a test just by listening in class and doing the homework. You don't really have to study. So if you start listening in class and doing the homework, it would be so much easier. But for now, you're going to have to be studying as well because your grades must be terrible." He winked at me.

When he realized that I didn't have any notebooks or anything, he decided that we'd spend the last 45 minutes of the session to run to an office supply store and buy some.

"How many classes do you take?" he asked me as we cruised through the aisles.

"Um… Biology, English, U.S. History, Trig, and Philosophy. So that's five." He nodded.

"Pick out five binders." What? What are binders??

"Ummm… what are those exactly?"

"Oh, bloody hell." He chuckled. "These things. Three ring notebooks."

"Oh!! I've seen those before." I picked out five white notebooks.

He grabbed five clear packets that go in three ring notebooks that hold homework or some shit like that. Then those divider thingies… pencils, pens, highlighters, a stapler, a permanent marker, post-it notes, all this stuff! I was so amazed at how much school stuff there was. I paid for all the stuff with my credit card.

When we got back to campus, we returned to the study room. He took the bags of school supplies and dumped them on the floor and sat down. "C'mon. Now, we 'ave to get you organized." I rolled my eyes, huffed a little, and sat down.

"So, Buffy. Tell me about yourself." He opened a notebook and filled it with a package of notebook paper.

"Whaddya wanna know?" I did the same with another binder.

"Let's do the basics: favorite music, favorite color, if you could be an animal what would it be?" He smirked.

"Um. I listen to all types of music - the Clash, Sex Pistols, Alanis Morsiette, Fiona Apple, Seether, A Perfect Circle, basically anything. My favorite color is definitely turquoise, which is why I dyed the tips of my hair that color. And, as for the animal - a dolphin. They're free." I smiled up at him. He smiled back.

"I like the Sex Pistols and the Clash and the whole British punk band genre. But I guess that comes with being from the country. And that Alanis chit isn't all that bad." I laughed.

"You're not as bad as I was expecting," I blurted out. Oops.

Spike chuckled. "Yeah, same to you. I was expecting some burn out kid with no hope or future. Either that or some cheerleading bint with no smarts." I laughed at the thought of me as a cheerleader. "So what were you expecting?"

"Umm… Well, when mom told me you were British, and that you were her favorite student, I expected a three-piece tweed suit and thick glasses. But now that I think about it, I guess that's pretty unreasonable."

Spike laughed. "You want to know what's really amusing about that?" I nodded in reply. "You just described my da."

"Wait so, did you say that you were passing Philosophy with an 'A'?" I smiled. So he had been listening! Yay! Then again, he is paid to.

"Well, actually, an 'A-', but whatever."

"Then, Buffy, how do you explain not passing any of your other classes?"

"Mr. Montgomery, my philosophy teacher, is cool. He understands that I can't concentrate and what not. He helps me out a lot. And I like philosophy. It's fun. Unlike English and Trig and all that shit."

"Hey now!" Great… he's going to get on to me about cussing. Stupid fucker. "Don't diss the English language! It used to be cool before you Americans…Americanized…it." Wait, he didn't scold me. Maybe he's not that bad.

Author's Notes: So…whaddaya think? Is it just terrible. Tell me… Please. I hope you guys like it though. Review if you want to, I love to hear from everyone!! :)