Spike pushed his way through the front doors of Mission Creek High with palpable excitement, immediately making his way over to the practice rooms in the music department. Fantasies played through his mind, making his heart pick up speed and his hands grow jittery. He was anticipating something amazing.

Adverse to his normal routine, the commando app had put extra effort into his appearance that morning, wearing tan khaki shorts, a tight black athletic shirt, and his hat placed on his head just right. He had even opted to wear cologne for once. He was not striking in the least, but he hoped that the simplistic-yet-tough-and-mature look would make an impact.

He sauntered into the locker-lined room, looking around. Kenzi was nowhere in sight, so he began his search through the practice rooms. He quickly found that they were small, dull, and, most frustratingly, empty.

So she's not here yet – big deal, he thought to himself irritably. Knowing when she usually got to school (he would argue that he was not stalking, but simply observing), he had planned his arrival so he was early enough that she wouldn't think he wasn't coming but late enough that he was casual and in control.

It irked him that this did not pan out.

Ugh, she had the same idea. Should I leave and reenter later? He paused, a thought flitting through his mind and darkening his mood. What if she forgot? No, she wouldn't have… would she?

He ground his teeth angrily, forcing himself not to think of the worst case. No, she's just late, he assured himself. Opting not to leave because of the worry that he might miss her, he began pacing back and forth, steadily growing more and more agitated.

Nearly ten minutes into his wait, someone entered the practice room area. Now people had been coming and going for several minutes at this point, and there were a number of kids who just milled around and socialized if they weren't getting their instruments and practicing. But what made this person different was that she directly approached the app with a purpose, her cold eyes set on him.

"Here," she said gruffly, shoving a piece of paper at Spike. He recognized her as being one of Kenzi's closest friends.

Upon doing her job, Kenzi's friend promptly left, leaving Spike to stare after her in confusion. He looked down at the paper, unfolding it to find a handwritten note.

His stomach dropped as he read it, a fire growing in his belly and hurt welling up within him. Through the innumerable swearwords and vile names and descriptions, Spike was devastated to read Kenzi's poisonous opinion of him – and he knew it was from her because he would recognize her loopy handwriting anywhere.

The last line was the final straw: So stay away from me, you *** monster, or next time I will write this letter to you again in your blood.

"Rahr!" he cried out, violently tearing the letter in half. The other kids around looked to him, startled, before they quickly made an escape. Heaving weighty breaths, he turned away from them, punching a locker with another roar.

The wooden locker splintered around his fist, his hand going right through it as it caved in on itself and jammed his hand into the locker. He stared at it for a long moment in shock before he registered the pain. Clenching his teeth, he began prying the wood from around his wrist, wheedling his arm out of the mess he had made.

Finally free, he briefly examined his hand; he was glad to find no blood, but already it was swelling and mottling with bruises. Letting out an angry sigh, he squeezed his eyes shut as he fell against the wall of lockers, resting his forehead against them.

What had warranted that terrible letter? Why did Kenzi hate his guts? Those were questions he couldn't figure out, and it only hurt more that this was all centered around the person who always invariably caught his attention and could promise him a good time. He had worked so hard to impress her, and to what end?

Gotta get away, gotta get away, he thought to himself over and over again, but he was unable to make himself move. He was numb in his pain.

As he remained as he was, a sound caught his ears. A most beautiful sound. Spike froze before standing up straight once more and tilting his head slightly so that he could hear it better. There was silence for a moment before it could be heard again, and the sound both excited him and made him practically melt inside. "Quiet," he muttered absentmindedly to the general noise of the hallway that leaked in, and he strained his ears so that he might catch the lilting melody.

Still unable to hear it clearly, he lethargically began following the sound, tracing it to its source. He was overcome by an odd peace, yet he felt vibrant and very much alive. Never had the fiery commando app felt this way before.

In his mind was the vivid image of a bubbling brook of clear water gently dancing along a forest floor, brushing by fern and stone alike. Illuminated by the sunlight that trickled through the sighing leaves would be smooth pebbles within the flowing stream, giving the myriad ripples of water a new sparkling dimension. So calm, so mild, but never lacking in energy, in life.

He stopped outside one of the now-inhabited practice rooms, listening to a piano sigh with its tangible counter-melody. But that was not what captured Spike's attention, for it was only accompaniment for the most beautiful voice the bionic had ever heard.

"My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord," [14] the voice sang sweetly. The owner hit both the high and low notes with ease, her voice rich and equally delicate as she luridly wove the song with all contour. It left Spike breathless, and he sunk to the ground so that he might inconspicuously listen more. In this time of hurt for him, the sound was as balm on raging sunburn, soothing his roiling emotions.

His trance was broken when the music suddenly stopped, and he heard someone talking loudly and quickly from within the room. It didn't take long for him to figure out that it was a voice-instructor who was both reprimanding and coaching the singer. The app felt a pang of defensiveness for the singer, wishing only to storm in there and make that instructor see how amazing she was.

This urge confused him, and he quelled it, remaining where he was. He was trying to understand why he was reacting so strongly when she began singing once more, and again he felt himself become like putty. He could imagine the singer's beauty, comparable with the beauty of her voice, and he knew what possessed him.

In losing a blistering passion for Kenzi Locke, Spike had discovered a flower that held unparalleled power over his heart. And to his astonishment, he loved it.

"From this day on, all generations will call me blest," rang the last line of the song, sending chills down the bionic's spine. The practice room was silent for only a moment before the instructor began speaking again, and Spike realized that their lesson had come to an end.

Excitement coursed through the app when he thought of meeting this girl, but it was quickly replaced by an inexplicable fear that roared through him. No, it wasn't inexplicable - he'd just been cruelly rejected. Who was to say she wouldn't knock him down too? Scrambling to his feet, he scurried into the empty practice room just to his left, peeping from it in time to see the instructor exiting his room, the singer in tow.

The girl seemed to be older than the youngest bionic, but not by much. What immediately caught Spike's attention was her caramel-brown hair that would be in poufy, tight curls if it weren't restrained within a bun. She wore nearly imperceptible make-up and only simple clothes, but despite being far less gorgeous than Spike had expected, she did have a quaint aura about her.

Whoa, not my type, Spike thought in awe as he slipped back out of sight with his back against the wall. But so my type… I don't know. What is this? What's come over me?

He shook his head, telling himself It will pass, this is just because I'm upset… right?

I don't know.

He peeked back around the corner to find that she was gone. And already his heart ached.


[14] Visitation Song (featuring Jessica Schissel) by Aly Aleigha.


AN: So yeah, cheesy infatuation right after sore disappointment. Not my best work, admittedly, but I'll still take ownership for it. I guess what I'm trying to get across is that with Spike and romance, the winds can change quite quickly. Do you guys think anything will come of this odd pairing? What do you foresee in the story?

And fs440... d'aww, shucks. You're wonderful :3

Yes, folks, Asori is a sucker for flattery :P You are all amazing in my book!

Like always, thank you for all of the support in follows, favorites, and reviews! Keep being awesome :D

Don't tune out before Chapter 52!