A/N: Okay I've been playing around with this idea for awhile, and I want to know what people think! So, this is a High School Au, and will hopefully be around for the long haul. I'm in my final year of school, so updating may be wishy-washy, but I'm hoping to update every weekend. Please leave a review if you enjoyed! Also, I'm looking for a Beta reader, so if you're interested, please drop me a line!

Were you but lying cold and dead,
And lights were paling out of the West,
You would come hither, and bend your head,
And I would lay my head on your breast;
And you would murmur tender words,
Forgiving me, because you were dead:
Nor would you rise and hasten away,
Though you have the will of the wild birds,
But know your hair was bound and wound
Above the stars and moon and sun:
O would, beloved, that you lay
Under the dock-leaves in the ground,
While lights were paling one by one.
~ "He wishes his beloved were dead", W.B Yeats.

Somehow, this was Dru's fault. Spike always knew it would be her fault when they inevitably crashed and burned. He never would have let her go of his own accord. She knew that too.
Why her leaving him had lead to sitting outside Snyder's office he had no bloody idea, but somehow it was the bitch's fault.
Somehow.

Of course he had no problem missing the last of chem, all those pathetic excuses for words and terms, and the maths added to the party. When, in god's name, was he going to be a scientist? Dru used to sit beside him, and keep him entertained by graphically describing how she'd rip the teacher apart with his own apparatus.

"Think of how lovely and sticky it would be my darling Spike. Then we'd eat him for tea... Sticky and tasty like cream and jam..."

Yeah okay, he wasn't into the cannibalistic imagery, but still. The sentiment was appreciated.

Finally, after what seemed like an age of sitting in the sweltering hall outside the principal's office, Snyder pushed the door open, allowing a tiny slip of a girl through. Or at least he thought it was just a girl until he saw the look of pure unadulterated hatred steaming on the bit's face. Ugh. Slayer.

Their eyes met for a moment, and her fierce expression only intensified, as if she was waiting for a reaction. Spike cocked an eyebrow.
"Now, now Summers, if looks could kill..."
"We can only hope, Pratt." She said, rolling her eyes.
For all she looked like the angelic (hah, pun intended) Californian girl, with her irritatingly silky hair, and golden complexion, the woman made you want to turn around and walk the other way. There was about four people on this site, bugger that, on this planet, she seemed to tolerate, and he had spent the last two years carefully making sure he wasn't among them.

"Stop that." Snyder said, his eyes somehow getting smaller as he squinted at them. Summers tossed her pretty little head as she marched away, Spike watching appreciatively as she moved. Hey, he hated the bitch, but he wasn't blind.

"Stop that." Snyder wheezed, pushing him into the stuffy office, eyeing him warily, like one would a bee hive. Or a landmine.

"Sit down William." He said in a forced attempt at being civil. He looked pained as he said it. What possessed this sniveling man to become a teacher? His calling obviously lay in the noble life of a prison warden. Actually thinking on it, not much of a difference in those roles.

"Don't mind if I do." Spike said, throwing himself down on the stiff office chair, avoiding the places covered in ominous looking stains. Another look of pain flashed across Snyder's face at Spike's obvious lack of respect for the school upholstery. He coughed gruffily, and sat behind his imposing desk, that was clearly compensating for something.

"Mr. Pratt. It is only the second week of the semester, and we've already had a complaint of bullying from a freshman. How do you plead?"

Spike sniffed.
"Not guilty. We were only having a bit of banter."
"You hung the boy from the top of a door, with the back of his coat."

"In my defense, the coat was denim." Spike said, smiling slightly as Snyder's eyes narrowed.

The almighty principal folded his hands on top of the desk, and gave a seemingly exasperated sigh.
"Mr. Pratt, I'm afraid the faculty and I are have reached a tipping point in regards to you. Now, since you've surprisingly lasted until senior year, I would normally just wait to celebrate at the sight of your back leaving this building at the end of May, but... The board of management has other ideas. They feel it's the responsibility of this school to offer help," Snyder shivered at the word, "to troubled students. I see it as more of an ultimatum."

Spike raised an eyebrow.
"You mean a threat?"
"If you like. Either you toe the line, or you'll be repeating the year at..." Snyder picked up a letter on the table, and examined it closely, "Cape Granite Institute for Problematic Boys. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Spike scoffed.
"You don't have the power to send me to a military school. You barely have the power to make me turn up here in the mornings."
The way Snyder was smiling made him suddenly feel that he just might have that kind of power.
"All I need is the written recommendation of a social worker, and consent from a parent or guardian and it's bye-bye Spike."

At the mention of parent, Spike paled a little. It didn't go unnoticed by Snyder, who's expression turned downright evil.

"Yes, I understand your mother is in a... delicate position. I'd hate to drag her only son away from her now."

The silence in the room was poisonous. Spike knew he was trapped, and Snyder knew he had trapped him. His glee added more salt to Spike new gaping wound.
"We expect grades of at least a C average throughout the year, and obviously no accidents like last May, do we understand each other?"

Spike didn't even have a retort. He wasn't about to waste his sparkling wit on this sadistic bastard. He lowered himself to a small nod, and stalked out of the room without waiting for Snyder's permission. Gee, what a rebel you are William, yeah, screw the man, you slam that door!

Fuck.

The last straw was when she dropped her lunch. After queuing up for another serving of the gruel this fine establishment had the audacity to call Mac and Cheese, she discovered they were all out and had to settle for a suspiciously stiff looking sandwich and an apple that was a sinister green-yellow.
Dear God, what had she done to deserve this? Actually don't answer that.
She was already behind on homework after only a week of school, then Snyder demanded her glorious presence, reminding her of The May Incident, and had the nerve to threaten her with Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow again. As if she didn't already know that there was a private school all ready and waiting to make her good and wholesome if she screwed up again. Her mother had said it enough over the summer. Then she bumped into William "The Bloody" Pratt, and she actually felt his eyes on her ass as she walked away. Why was he such a pig? A true gentleman would never check out his mortal enemy. It was only twelve o'clock.

She missed Angel.

Had it already been three months? Three months since he disappeared off to college, with only a "Bye Buffy, I love you and all but I'm going to L.A and I don't think a long distance thing would work."

Well, he made it sound more reasonable, but that's all Buffy got from his little speech. Like, she knew he had serious baggage, but still...

She shook Angel thoughts from her head, not ready to sort through that melting pot of emotions. Her heart lightened a little when she saw Willow and Xander engrossed in some sort of debate at the library table. They had been eating in the library since Sophomore year, where they discovered that this place had a zero percent chance of flying food, no animalistic screams of the other students, and actually had a lack of other students in general. Xander had proclaimed he didn't even know the school had a library.

The thought of Sophomore year brought on a round of flashbacks that Buffy would have rather not had. Her father leaving. Acting out at school. The Gym Incident. Visiting Sunnydale. Moving to Sunnydale. The absolute constant fear that she would ruin everything again.

Of course after that the memories got happier. Meeting Willow and Xander. Having good, real, friends for the first time. Meeting Angel. Loving Angel. The moment her mother said she was proud of her. Yeah things were good at the minute.

And then the bell rang.

Immediately Willow started gathering books, bouncing towards the door where she noticed Buffy on the verge of hitting something.
"Buffy! What happened, why are you all... argh?" She said her voice filled with concern. Buffy held out her dismal lunch in one hand and the letter for her mother in the other.
"I got Snydered."

Xander jumped in front of her, his expression serious.

"Buff. Do you need emergency candy?"

Buffy gave a weak laugh.

"God yes."

The walk back to class was pleasant enough, and after eating her fill of sugary goodness, Buffy was starting to feel like she could last the rest of day. Until-

"Where is your assignment Ms Summers?"

Assignment? What assignment... oh. That one. The one she was going to start yesterday...

"I um... I'll have it tomorrow?" Buffy offered lamely, ignoring the pitying glances from the other students.

"Oh yes you will, seeing as you'll be finishing it in detention." Baird said, handing her the little pink slip. Buffy nodded, sinking back into her chair, and wishing some sort of mouth in the earth would swallow her up and take her to hell. Hell would be better than here.

Anywhere would be better than here.

Two hours of torture later and she stood outside of the classroom for a while, before pushing through the door with a sigh. The small room was filled with "troubled" kids with bad dye jobs and painful looking piercings. There was a few students who, like her, had just missed homework one too many times. She looked around for an empty seat beside one of the nicer looking kids, or at least one who wouldn't try to engage her in conversation. She didn't succeed, and now was struggling to find an empty seat at all. There was only one actually, right in the back, beside...

Oh, somebody must hate her up there.

Spike.

With an exasperated groan she moved to the back, and threw herself down on the chair. She shot him a look of pure loathing, unsurprised to find he was already looking at her. She inclined her head.
"Spike." she muttered in greeting.

"Slayer." He answered in the same tone. Buffy rolled her eyes. Slayer. The stupid nickmane came the year before, from the way she supposedly "slayed" those who annoyed her. Okay, so maybe some of her insults were a little cutting, but it wasn't like she went around with a pointy stake, and put it through people's hearts. Woah, there was an image.

She shook herself out of the daydream to find that Spike was looking her expectantly.
"I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Spike laughed.
"I asked what you were in here for." He repeated, reaching into his pocket and taking out a packet of cigarettes. He offered her one, shrugging when she looked at him aghast.
"You are not lighting up in here."
He raised an eyebrow, in a "What the hell are you going to do about it?" way, but put the carton away. Buffy rewarded him with an answer.
"I turned up to class homework-less. What are you doing here?" She said quickly, surprised at herself. Did she actually just initiate a conversation? Spike looked at her with suspicion, then drew out his own detention slip, reading from it as if he couldn't remember why exactly he was here.
"Ah, here we are - William made suggestive and lewd comments to the substitute teacher, and then refused to apologize."

Buffy gave a small nod, still confused.
"I meant why are you here. You never struck me as a guy who'd actually show up for detention."

Spike nodded, like she had a point.
"One would think that of course, normally I wouldn't, but in fact I feel terribly bad about what I did, and want to atone for my sins."

His eye twitched. Buffy laughed in realization.

"Oh my God, Snyder got to you too didn't he?"

"Too?," Spike said curiously, raising a scarred eyebrow, "Is the lovely Ms Summers going to be joining me at Cape Granite?"
"Not freaking likely- girl here remember? Nope. I'm headed to Our Lady of Purple Sorrow or something."

Spike snorted.
"It's perpetual sorrow, pet, not purple. 'Means eternal."

Buffy muttered a quiet 'whatever'.
There was silence for a moment, until Spike looked at her slyly.
"I'd have thought you'd be happy to switch schools- That school's in Los Angeles right?"

Buffy's eyes narrowed.
"Don't. Just don't."
Spike raised his hands in mock defense.
"Touched a nerve did I? How is Peaches?"

"I said... Just don't."

Finally the supervising teacher entered, immediately throwing them dirty looks for talking. Quietly fuming, Buffy picked up her pen and began writing, struggling not to reach over and stab Spike. Release some of that frustration that had been building all day.
God, but she hated that man.

Band isn't half bad tonight, Spike thought as he watched his target leave The Bronze. It would be the night that actual music was being played that he's have to leave early. Worst Luck. He followed the girl and her friends out from the bar, keeping a careful distance away, not wanting to alert them. Shadows were just one of the many benefits of wearing nothing but black- it was easy to hide. His duster swept behind him as he walked, slapping against the back of his calves every now and again. He always liked the duster. Made him look a little taller. He needed that extra height when he was beside Angeles, being compared to Angeles. Bastard.

Finally the group in front of him came to a stop, hugs being exchanged, and the other two turned a corner, leaving Red all alone. Perfect.

He came up behind her, and grabbed her shoulder, swinging her around to face him. She let out a startled shriek, that he muffled with his hand.
"I need a favour." He said quietly, releasing her a little before she bit him.

"What the hell Spike!," Willow said angrily straightening out her fluffy pink jumper, "w-why did you sneak up on me like that?"
"Couldn't let the other Scoobies know I was sinking this low could I? Slayer'd have a field day!
Look I need help. I need to bring up my grade to at least a C minus, and I have no idea how- I haven't paid attention in school since England!"

Willow looked at his suspiciously.
"W-why did you think I'd help you?" She muttered, only half-sure of herself.
"'Cause I saved your asses last May didn't I? You and all the Scoobies. And I haven't asked for a bit of payment. You owe me."

He waited for a moment, while she decided between a retort or an answer.

"So, you want me to... tutor you?"
Spike shuddered.
"Do you have to use that word?"

Red simply stared at him, until he broke.
"Yes, fine, what of it?"

The girl broke out laughing, doubled over. Spike waited until she stopped. She straightened herself, wiping away a few escaped tears.
"Fine," she answered in between giggles, "You can meet me in the library every Tuesday and Thursday."

Spike nodded, gave her a painful looking smile, and started to back away, until he froze at her last words.

"That way I can tutor you and Buffy at the same time."