+Detention Hall+
Summary: AU fiction, based on the movie "The Breakfast Club". A ragtag bunch of teens sentenced to a day of Saturday in detention together in one room, though they barely can stand each other; Spike, Buffy, Willow, Anya, and Xander. During that time, they bare each other's souls and discover love. Well, did y'all expect anything more from me? ;)
Disclaimer: Blah, bliddity blah. I don't own anything, Joss Whedon owns all BTVS characters, I am poor as ass and only own the clothes on my back. John Hughes, the wonderful God of 80's teen flicks, owns "The Breakfast Club". *sigh*
A/n: Hell yeah, I'm back. Though for the past 6 months I have been nowhere, I'm now writing again with a new story that I hope will please everyone. "The Breakfast Club" is THE greatest movie in the world, and since I write everything AU, of course it was only a matter of time until I incorporated my favouritest movie. Just a little background info; this movie was created in the 80's and stars Molly Ringwald, Ally Sheedy, Emilio Estevez, Judd Nelson, and a few other big 80's names.
Wlliam 'Spike' Bender is "The Criminal", ultimate bad boy. Buffy Summers is "The Princess", biggest valley girl to walk this town since Cher from Clueless. Willow Rosenberg, "The Brain", smartest woman in Sunnydale High. Xander Harris, "The Jock", pro-football player (though he doesn't like touching other men!). And lastly, Anya Meyers, "The Basket Case", cause as we all know she's crazy *mock serious face*.
Read and review, as always! *kisses*
+!+!+!+!+!+
+Prologue+
Buffy Summers looked dejectedly at Sunnydale High through her father's Mercedes Benz window. She pouted, and swiveled her murderous glare back to Hank Summers, who was seated beside her trying to look positive though he was quickly wilting at Buffy's death glare.
"I can't believe you can't get me out of this, daddy! I mean it's so stupid I have to be here on a Saturday. A Saturday! For a detention! I don't even like being here on normal days, with normal school, and now-"
Hank sighed, holding up a hand to cut of his daughter's incessant whining. He scratched his head and tried to look apologetic and soothing. "Sweetie, it's only for a few hours, really. Soon it will be done and you won't even remember it. Next time, maybe you shouldn't skip class to go shopping, and you wouldn't have to go through this at all."
Buffy just continued glaring, crossing her arms over her chest, her pout becoming even more pronounced. Her pout was one of her patented gestures to get someone to cave. Hank sighed again. He really needed to get to his golf game, and at this rate he would never make it. He tried to glance at his watch furtively and inwardly sighed at the time. Hank sighed all the time it seemed.
He rooted around on the back seat, his hand finally clasping around a pink bag emblazoned with the words "Baby Phat". He pulled it to the front and handed it to Buffy, who took it sullenly. "Here, honey. Just do your time today and I swear I'll make it up to you. I promise. I'll get you that new Louis Vitton bag you've been eyeing, alright?" Hank said, looking at his daughter and reaching over to give her a kiss on the cheek. She rolled her eyes but accepted the kiss with a big smile now on her face, beaming brightly, and pushed open the car door. She stepped out, adjusting her jean mini-skirt, and turned around to wave to her father, batting her eyelashes in another patent Buffy move.
"Bye, daddy!" she said sweetly, now all innocence and smiles.
"Bye, baby," he said, watching as his oldest daughter fondly as she practically bounced up the school steps in her little platform sandals.
***
Xander Harris scowled as his father tried to give him some lame lecture about focusing in school and realizing that he could blow his ride if he didn't watch his step. This was how it had been for the past two days, even since he had played that prank that was destined to be hashed over again and again for eternity.
"Listen, son, I know how it is for guys your age. Guys screw around. Fuck, I even screwed around! But you got caught, Xander." Tony Harris gave his son a hard look. Xander's scowl deepened and he deliberately turned his gaze out the window, crossing his arms and muttering under his breath.
"Xander, do you wanna blow your ride? You keep pulling this shit, and your gunna lose everything I - we - worked so hard for!" Tony spat, his anger rising. Xander turned a dark glare back to his father. At that moment he had to physically hold back from punching his father's goddamn lights out.
"No university is gunna give a scholarship to some discipline case. You better smarten the hell up." Tony finished, and finally Xander spoke.
"Mom already tore me a new hole, ok? I get it, I'll be a good boy from now on."
Tony sighed, and turned back to face the front of the car, hands on the steering wheel. "I don't wanna hear that you got another detention, Xander. Or I'm gunna do more then rip you a new hole."
"Whatever, Dad, I gotta go," Xander stated shortly, before grabbing his paper lunch bag and pushing open the truck door. He slammed it shut without a backward glance and stormed up to the school. Tony sighed and put the gear into drive, pulling out of the school parking lot and away from his son's temper.
***
"I said it once, Willow, and I won't say it again."
"Yes, mom," Willow Rosenberg automatically answered quickly, her head looking meekly down to her clasped hands in her lap as her mother lectured her angrily.
"I will have none of that foolish nonsense in my house! It's disgusting and immoral, and I will not let my only daughter become mixed up in it, you hear?" Joan Rosenberg was furious. She held the steering wheel in a vise- tight grip, trying to keep a rein on her control, though Willow could tell she was going to burst soon. The telltale pulsing vein in her mother's forehead usually gave it away.
Willow sighed, and tried to look apologetic as Joan's anger was vented out on her as per usual. Hopefully it would be done and she would be free to escape to the school, where she would have 9 hours of detention with a group of strangers. Willow sighed again; either way she was screwed today.
"Willow!" her mother's voice reached hysteric proportions. It was amazing to see someone's eyes bulge out so far in their eye sockets; truly Ripley's worthy. Willow stifled a giggle, instead covering it up with a cough.
"Do you understand me?" Joan asked warily, as she could feel the beginnings of a massive headache coming on.
"Yes, mother. I won't ever get involved with that stuff again, I promise." Willow said mechanically, because she knew she wouldn't stop just on behalf of her mother. She picked at a cuticle, praying that she could go now.
"Good." Her mother said somewhat satisfactorily. "Now, you go into that detention, and try to study. Study . . . anything. I don't want to hear of you ever getting another detention again, do you hear me, Willow?"
"Yes, mom," Willow said for the millionth time. It was the only safe answer to Joan. Willow wisely kept the information that in detention, there was no studying, too herself.
"Well, then hurry up. Go now, go!" Joan shooed her daughter out of the car, as Willow told her mom good bye and then hurried up the cement steps to the front doors of Sunnydale High.
***
Anya Meyers climbed out of her mother's car, dressed in dark heavy clothing, much too warm for the bright and sunny day. She pushed back a strand of dark hair from her heavily outlined eyes, coated in masses of gothic black eyeliner, and squinted against the sun. She shut the car door behind her, bending down and turning to say bye to her mother, but it was to late. Her mother had already driven off, almost hitting a bleached boy wearing a black leather duster in the process.
Anya frowned, then shrugged slightly, pulling her large black bag up on her shoulder and making her way up to the school.
Following some way behind her was the bleached figure, hands deep in his duster pockets as he sauntered up the steps to detention. He had walked from home, neither of his parents caring enough to give him a ride to the high school. He raised his head to give a hateful look towards the school, blue eyes glittering spitefully.
***
It was the usual Saturday detention, but it wouldn't be a normal day. The five teens who had all preformed various crimes to land themselves in detention didn't know that today would be filled with confessions and discoveries, resentment and understanding. A day when five teens of different social groups and standings, a Criminal, a Princess, a Brain, a Basket Case, and a Jock, would soon learn that not everything, or everyone, is as it seems.
It would be a day to remember.
+!+!+!+!+!+!+
TBC . . .
Summary: AU fiction, based on the movie "The Breakfast Club". A ragtag bunch of teens sentenced to a day of Saturday in detention together in one room, though they barely can stand each other; Spike, Buffy, Willow, Anya, and Xander. During that time, they bare each other's souls and discover love. Well, did y'all expect anything more from me? ;)
Disclaimer: Blah, bliddity blah. I don't own anything, Joss Whedon owns all BTVS characters, I am poor as ass and only own the clothes on my back. John Hughes, the wonderful God of 80's teen flicks, owns "The Breakfast Club". *sigh*
A/n: Hell yeah, I'm back. Though for the past 6 months I have been nowhere, I'm now writing again with a new story that I hope will please everyone. "The Breakfast Club" is THE greatest movie in the world, and since I write everything AU, of course it was only a matter of time until I incorporated my favouritest movie. Just a little background info; this movie was created in the 80's and stars Molly Ringwald, Ally Sheedy, Emilio Estevez, Judd Nelson, and a few other big 80's names.
Wlliam 'Spike' Bender is "The Criminal", ultimate bad boy. Buffy Summers is "The Princess", biggest valley girl to walk this town since Cher from Clueless. Willow Rosenberg, "The Brain", smartest woman in Sunnydale High. Xander Harris, "The Jock", pro-football player (though he doesn't like touching other men!). And lastly, Anya Meyers, "The Basket Case", cause as we all know she's crazy *mock serious face*.
Read and review, as always! *kisses*
+!+!+!+!+!+
+Prologue+
Buffy Summers looked dejectedly at Sunnydale High through her father's Mercedes Benz window. She pouted, and swiveled her murderous glare back to Hank Summers, who was seated beside her trying to look positive though he was quickly wilting at Buffy's death glare.
"I can't believe you can't get me out of this, daddy! I mean it's so stupid I have to be here on a Saturday. A Saturday! For a detention! I don't even like being here on normal days, with normal school, and now-"
Hank sighed, holding up a hand to cut of his daughter's incessant whining. He scratched his head and tried to look apologetic and soothing. "Sweetie, it's only for a few hours, really. Soon it will be done and you won't even remember it. Next time, maybe you shouldn't skip class to go shopping, and you wouldn't have to go through this at all."
Buffy just continued glaring, crossing her arms over her chest, her pout becoming even more pronounced. Her pout was one of her patented gestures to get someone to cave. Hank sighed again. He really needed to get to his golf game, and at this rate he would never make it. He tried to glance at his watch furtively and inwardly sighed at the time. Hank sighed all the time it seemed.
He rooted around on the back seat, his hand finally clasping around a pink bag emblazoned with the words "Baby Phat". He pulled it to the front and handed it to Buffy, who took it sullenly. "Here, honey. Just do your time today and I swear I'll make it up to you. I promise. I'll get you that new Louis Vitton bag you've been eyeing, alright?" Hank said, looking at his daughter and reaching over to give her a kiss on the cheek. She rolled her eyes but accepted the kiss with a big smile now on her face, beaming brightly, and pushed open the car door. She stepped out, adjusting her jean mini-skirt, and turned around to wave to her father, batting her eyelashes in another patent Buffy move.
"Bye, daddy!" she said sweetly, now all innocence and smiles.
"Bye, baby," he said, watching as his oldest daughter fondly as she practically bounced up the school steps in her little platform sandals.
***
Xander Harris scowled as his father tried to give him some lame lecture about focusing in school and realizing that he could blow his ride if he didn't watch his step. This was how it had been for the past two days, even since he had played that prank that was destined to be hashed over again and again for eternity.
"Listen, son, I know how it is for guys your age. Guys screw around. Fuck, I even screwed around! But you got caught, Xander." Tony Harris gave his son a hard look. Xander's scowl deepened and he deliberately turned his gaze out the window, crossing his arms and muttering under his breath.
"Xander, do you wanna blow your ride? You keep pulling this shit, and your gunna lose everything I - we - worked so hard for!" Tony spat, his anger rising. Xander turned a dark glare back to his father. At that moment he had to physically hold back from punching his father's goddamn lights out.
"No university is gunna give a scholarship to some discipline case. You better smarten the hell up." Tony finished, and finally Xander spoke.
"Mom already tore me a new hole, ok? I get it, I'll be a good boy from now on."
Tony sighed, and turned back to face the front of the car, hands on the steering wheel. "I don't wanna hear that you got another detention, Xander. Or I'm gunna do more then rip you a new hole."
"Whatever, Dad, I gotta go," Xander stated shortly, before grabbing his paper lunch bag and pushing open the truck door. He slammed it shut without a backward glance and stormed up to the school. Tony sighed and put the gear into drive, pulling out of the school parking lot and away from his son's temper.
***
"I said it once, Willow, and I won't say it again."
"Yes, mom," Willow Rosenberg automatically answered quickly, her head looking meekly down to her clasped hands in her lap as her mother lectured her angrily.
"I will have none of that foolish nonsense in my house! It's disgusting and immoral, and I will not let my only daughter become mixed up in it, you hear?" Joan Rosenberg was furious. She held the steering wheel in a vise- tight grip, trying to keep a rein on her control, though Willow could tell she was going to burst soon. The telltale pulsing vein in her mother's forehead usually gave it away.
Willow sighed, and tried to look apologetic as Joan's anger was vented out on her as per usual. Hopefully it would be done and she would be free to escape to the school, where she would have 9 hours of detention with a group of strangers. Willow sighed again; either way she was screwed today.
"Willow!" her mother's voice reached hysteric proportions. It was amazing to see someone's eyes bulge out so far in their eye sockets; truly Ripley's worthy. Willow stifled a giggle, instead covering it up with a cough.
"Do you understand me?" Joan asked warily, as she could feel the beginnings of a massive headache coming on.
"Yes, mother. I won't ever get involved with that stuff again, I promise." Willow said mechanically, because she knew she wouldn't stop just on behalf of her mother. She picked at a cuticle, praying that she could go now.
"Good." Her mother said somewhat satisfactorily. "Now, you go into that detention, and try to study. Study . . . anything. I don't want to hear of you ever getting another detention again, do you hear me, Willow?"
"Yes, mom," Willow said for the millionth time. It was the only safe answer to Joan. Willow wisely kept the information that in detention, there was no studying, too herself.
"Well, then hurry up. Go now, go!" Joan shooed her daughter out of the car, as Willow told her mom good bye and then hurried up the cement steps to the front doors of Sunnydale High.
***
Anya Meyers climbed out of her mother's car, dressed in dark heavy clothing, much too warm for the bright and sunny day. She pushed back a strand of dark hair from her heavily outlined eyes, coated in masses of gothic black eyeliner, and squinted against the sun. She shut the car door behind her, bending down and turning to say bye to her mother, but it was to late. Her mother had already driven off, almost hitting a bleached boy wearing a black leather duster in the process.
Anya frowned, then shrugged slightly, pulling her large black bag up on her shoulder and making her way up to the school.
Following some way behind her was the bleached figure, hands deep in his duster pockets as he sauntered up the steps to detention. He had walked from home, neither of his parents caring enough to give him a ride to the high school. He raised his head to give a hateful look towards the school, blue eyes glittering spitefully.
***
It was the usual Saturday detention, but it wouldn't be a normal day. The five teens who had all preformed various crimes to land themselves in detention didn't know that today would be filled with confessions and discoveries, resentment and understanding. A day when five teens of different social groups and standings, a Criminal, a Princess, a Brain, a Basket Case, and a Jock, would soon learn that not everything, or everyone, is as it seems.
It would be a day to remember.
+!+!+!+!+!+!+
TBC . . .
