Disclaimer: Characters not mine, all Joss and Mutant Enemy's. Just like to see how much mess around with them when I can.
Pairing: Well let's put in this way. There's B/S AND B/A. This is the first in a series, so there's mostly B/A, but what it'll eventually end up being is for me to know and you to find out.
Feedback: Please, please, I'd love it.
Author's Note: This story is pretty AU, set around mid-season 2. However, since I'm the one in control, I've switched around things, time-wise. Events of "School Hard" never happened, Buffy is still with Angel before he turns again, and Willow is with Oz, an out-of-the-closet werewolf.
Chapter One: First Impressions Are the Most Important
"SON?!!" Buffy, Xander and Willow all yelled simultaneously in Giles' direction. Only the ever-laconic Oz remained silent, gazing at the hapless librarian intently.
"Yes, I have a son. About you're age, and um . . . he'll be moving to here and attending Sunnydale High."
The two Scoobies and the Slayer all stared, mouths hanging open, eyes glazed with amazement. "Why didn't you tell us about him, Giles?" Willow asked softly, her long auburn hair cascading over her shoulders.
"Well I would have . . . but it never seemed to have come up in all our hours spent fighting the forces of darkness," Giles mumbled, reaching for a handkerchief in his pocket to wipe his glasses with intense feeling.
"Back up." Young Xander Harris held up his hands in the air, dramatically imploring for reason. "Not really grasping the concept. Giles having a son? Giles procreating? Giles procreating . . . with a woman??"
"That's usually how those things are done," Oz said.
"Who votes for major ickiness over the idea of Giles actually having sex once in his lifetime?" Xander continued, waving his hand high in the air. Buffy's, Willow's and Oz's hands followed. Giles fidgeted where he stood.
"Look here all, I'm just telling you . . . this in hopes that you'll do your best to make my so—him feel comfortable in this new environment."
"Why now?" Willow continued with the questions. "I mean, w-why is he moving here now? Where has he been all this time?"
"He's been living with his grandmother all these years in London. H-his mother, um . . . died when he was very young, about nine actually, and um, well, I was not equipped to take care of such a large . . . responsibility, so I left him with his mother's mother." Giles' eyes clouded briefly as he told the story. The rest understood and sympathetic silence hung over the room. Giles awoke from his reflective trance and continued. "Well, anyway, it appears that his grandmother has fallen ill, and can no longer take care of him, so she wanted to send him to place she knew he would be well taken care of."
"So she opts for the safety haven of the Hellmouth," Buffy quipped. "Gotcha."
"I simply wish that you can help him feel more acquainted here, that's all I ask."
Buffy nodded, seriously this time. "Don't worry Giles, we'll roll out the Welcome Wagon for your progeny. If he's anything like you, I'm sure we'll all got along just fine."
Suddenly a large crash erupted in the direction of the library doors. They had been thrust open with a violent force, so that they swung haphazardly off their hinges. A young, lanky, strikingly handsome and shockingly blond teen stalked into the library, black duster hanging off his slim, yet muscular frame. "Hey Pops," he said in a predatory, British accent, a cigarette protruding from his mouth. Giles, shook his head, walking up to his smirking son and grabbing the white cancer stick out of his mouth.
"No smoking, William, this a public high school, remember?" Giles glared testily at the boy, who simply responded by curling up his lip in a smirk reminiscent of Sid Vicious. He glanced over his father's shoulder to catch a view of the four other astounded teens that sat seated at the table. Giles turned around as well, sighing as he prepared to make introductions.
"Umm, all . . . this is my son . . . William."
Xander, Buffy, Willow and Oz just gazed at the figure clothed in black leather and cotton who stood next to the twitching, tweedish librarian with stupefaction.
"Yeah," Buffy murmured, shaking her blond head absently. "I can really see the resemblance." Kind of cute, she added to herself. In a Sex Pistols, grungy kind of way. Got that tall, dark and handsome thing going for him. Well, except for the bright, blond hair. Kind of like Angel . . . but not really. She suddenly broke into a soft smile at the thought of her undead boyfriend.
"That is your . . . son?!!" Xander blurted out. "That carries all your . . . Giles-y genes?"
"Hey!" The bleached-blond lad interjected. "I've got a name y'know. It's Spike."
"Spike?" Xander and Buffy both exploded into laughter. "Reality check, um, Spike, but you're in a Californian suburb, not the mean streets of Hell's Kitchen. Here, we go by regular names like Xander, or Buffy." Xander sank in his chair with a highly amused look on his face.
"Right." Spike smirked, shoving his hands in his duster. "Those are names you give a domesticated bunny or ferret, or apparently, namby-pamby chits like you." Xander and Buffy's faces immediately hardened. Okay so maybe "nice" doesn't fit into that "tall, dark and handsome" equation, Buffy reflected. She had immediately decided that she didn't like this new character. Giles cleared his throat, well aware that his son was failing to make a good impression on the Scoobies.
"Right well, William---"
"Spike," Spike corrected.
"William," Giles gritted his teeth. "You've met Buffy and Xander, um over there are Willow, and um, Oz." Oz nodded peaceably at him while Willow shyly waved.
Spike snorted. "And other stunning examples of the sensible name-picking that goes on here in Sunnydale." He cocked a disdainful head at his father. "These were the bloody buggers you were tellin' me about? Oh, I can already see they're a soddin' fun bunch, they are, if they got nothing else to do 'cept hang around in a musty old library with the likes o' you."
"Hey!" Xander irately sprang up from his chair. Willow placed a calming hand on his shoulder, easing him down as she politely approached Spike, holding out her palm.
"Um hey . . . Spike, your father has told us . . . well nothing about you, but uh . . . welcome to Sunnydale all the same."
"Thanks." Spike hesitated before accepting Willow's hand in a rough shake. "Not surprised Daddy dearest over didn't tell you squat about me though. How like him." His face darkened as he turned to glare at Giles who twitched and bit his lip with impatient discomfort.
"Um, yes well . . William---"
"For the love of!!!" Spike whined. "I told you to call me Spike! It's what my mates called me back in London, can't you at least try to remember it's Spike!"
"I'll call you what I damn bloody well please!" Giles exploded, his patience wearing thin. He sighed as he glared at his stony-faced son. "Look, all I want to know is have you correctly registered, visited the principal, gotten your locker, so on and so forth?"
Spike maintained a venomous glower towards Giles. "Yeah, I met with the bloody headmaster. Feisty little poofter he is too."
"What language are you speaking?!" Xander discourteously exclaimed. "I mean what's all the 'bloody' 'sodding' 'poofter' 'bugger' junk? Geez, he's talkin' the crazy talk from Foreign-land."
Spike scowled. "It's called English, you wanker. You Yankee blokes wouldn't even be speakin' it if it wasn't for us saving your arses in World War II."
"Um excuse me, but it was us who saved you're crumpet-spouting, high-tea-falouting asses in that war, not the other way around." Xander in turn shot daggers at Spike, who irately stalked up to Xander to connect his fist to the boy's nose.
"Enough!" Buffy yelled, exasperatedly separating the two, who had apparently become quick nemeses. "Look . . . Spike." She squared her teeth resolutely as she stood up against Spike, poking him with a perfectly manicured finger. "Why don't you back off?"
Spike smirked lazily as he gazed down at the slight, skinny blonde. "Ooo, I like this one. Testy, she is." He did like her, despite the harsh, cold look she was presently giving him. She had a surprising air of someone tough as nails and fearless, all eclipsed in a fragile, sixteen-year old body. Spike was readily intrigued. "Give us a kiss, luv," he whispered huskily pressing his lips together in mock affection. Buffy, both disgusted and uncomfortable, suddenly became aware of her close proximity to her unforeseen wooer, and backed away.
"Hey no inappropriate macking on Buffy!" Xander protested. "She leaves that to her friends." He pointed an emphatic finger towards himself.
Just then, Cordelia Chase sauntered into the library, which was already in emotional shambles as Buffy and Spike glared at each other, Xander muttered hateful epithets under his breath directed towards Spike, Oz and Willow sat in uncomfortable silence and Giles felt ready to explode from parental distress. "Hey losers. Which one of you wants to write my English paper for me? I have no time, Bloomies is having their huge semi-annual sale and I have some major shoppage to do." She paused as the occupants of the library grimaced at her. "What? There'll be riding privileges involved. I'll take you anywhere you want for a week in my convertible." She wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Wait, no, let's make that a day. It's not like you guys will have that many places to go anyway, probably just here and the Bronze and here and the Bronze . . ."
"Cordelia!" Giles gave her a steely glance. "We're sort of . . . in the middle of something."
"Pfft, like what, I---hey who's that?" Cordelia turned her attentions to Spike, who suddenly perked up when he heard that she had a convertible. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of the gorgeous young boy and she unconsciously licked her lips.
Giles tiredly attempted to introduce his son to a smiling Cordelia, but Spike pushed him out of the way. He paused to give a once-over gaze of approval at Cordelia's tiny outfit of a miniskirt and baby tee.
"The name's Spike," he said genteelly, taking her hand and pecking a kiss to it. "Happy to make your acquaintance . . .?"
"Cordelia," she finished, smiling coyly. "You're new."
Spike nodded, smirking. "Yes, I am. I'm uh," he cocked his head at Giles. "Rupert here's son."
"Rupert?!" Giles started angrily. "Who said you could call me that?!"
"Giles? Having a son? That's of the wow." Cordelia incredulously turned to him. "You actually impregnated some girl?"
"That's what I said!" Xander chirped, but his face soon fell as he realized he actually agreed upon something with his mortal enemy.
Cordelia soon turned back with great interest to Spike. "So Spike, this is your first day huh? How do you like Sunnydale High so far?"
He made a face towards the rest of the group. "Not exactly feeling rays of welcome thus far, it's lookin' to be sort of a drag."
Cordelia scoffed. "You mean these losers?" She waved a dismissive hand at the rest. "Whatever, they totally do not represent what Sunnydale is all about."
"Yes, yes, they've got Cordelia and Co. for that," Xander agreed. "And you'll be soon finding that Sunnydale is a bitchy, whiny, ho-ish place to live in." Cordelia glared at him.
"What are your classes?" She continued, sidling up suggestively towards Spike in a way that made Buffy's eyes roll.
"Um, first period, biology, second, P.E., third, Trig, fourth, American Literature," He paused to snort critically. "Like there's a fat lot to that class. That's a bleedin' oxymoron if I ever heard one."
"Oh, you have Ms. Randall," Cordelia pointed out. "Major bitch she is, the key is to suck up like you have never sucked up---"
"Yes Cordelia knows all about the sucking," Xander couldn't help but adding. Once again, menacing sneers were exchanged.
"Well Spike." Giles suggested, desperate to get Spike out of his hair momentarily, "H-how about Cordelia s-show you around school, let you become familiar with the premises?" Spike nodded his head amiably in agreement but whipped his hand out.
"Need money."
Giles frowned, wiping the heavy perspiration from his forehead. "What?! Whatever for?!"
"For a package a' smokes."
Giles gritted his teeth. "Spike. This. Is. A. School. No. Smoking. Allowed."
Spike shrugged. "Fine then. I need it for . . . school supplies. Yeah, school supplies. Freshly sharpened number two pencils and that sort."
"You just said you needed them for cigarettes!!!"
"I changed me mind. I want to start off as a bright, successful student here."
"No!! I'm not giving any money!! Not when you just said you needed them for cigarettes!!"
Spike's face hardened. "I should 'ave known. Can't expect Daddy here to even care a twopence about providing for his own son, not when he's been ignoring him for the last seventeen years."
"That's not fair, William," Giles sighed.
"IT'S SPIKE!!" he yelled before sharply turning to make his exit. "Come on, Christina," he mumbled, as he stalked away.
"It's Cordelia!" Cordelia called as she raced after him. After the two left, Giles collapsed into a chair and cradled his head miserably in his arms.
"He seems . . . nice," Willow voiced weakly.
"Kinda intense," Oz reflected.
"Gotta say, not really feelin' the love," Xander mused, waving towards Giles.
"Yes, well, I must say I can't expect Will---er, Spike to feel very . . . familial towards me, not after all this time. I suppose he still has deep-rooted anger towards me. He hasn't really ever gotten over the death of his mother, and he certainly hasn't seen me around for support."
Buffy shrugged. "So he has mommy issues. No big."
"Is if you're Norman Bates," Xander pointed out.
"He is quite a handful," Giles conceded. "A little more than what I bargained for. His grandmother did mention he fell into a wrong sort of crowd back in London. She did hope so that I would do my best to . . . um, reform him."
"You got us for that!" Willow brightly smiled, sending the perkiness factor of the room sky-high. "Big ol' reformers, we are." She nodded towards Oz who affectionately brushed her hair from her face.
"Yes, I do hope you all try your best to make him feel comfortable. I do realize he is rather . . . unsociable. But please . . . if only for me."
Buffy sighed, knowing that as much as she instantly disliked Spike, she remained devoted to his father. "Don't worry Giles, we'll try our best."
"Yes, well . . . Oh! And um, can I trust you all to um . . . ix-nay on the Ayer-slay?"
"You want us to not tell Spike about you being a layer? What?" Xander wrinkled his brow in confusion. Giles threw his hands up in frustration.
"No! What I'm trying to rather unsuccessfully voice is, um . . . do try to keep it down about Buffy being the Slayer. And me being her watcher. And Sunnydale being the Hellmouth capital in general."
Willow's eyes widened. "You mean Spike doesn't even know that you're a Watcher?"
"Well, I jolly haven't gotten around to telling him. Around the house it's more like hostile silence followed by . . . well, hostile silence."
"Sounds sure homey," Xander reflected, thinking of his own home environment.
"Gotcha, Giles. Mouths zipped shut about anything demon-y," Buffy nodded. "From the looks of it, it would probably excite the guy, rather than freak him."
Giles nodded, suddenly looking very, very tired as he rubbed his head. "Yes, I think it would."
