Title: Buffy the High School Student

Part: Three (Henry the Eighth I Am)

Author: Arsahi

Rated: PG

Disclaimer: BtVS doesn't belong to me. However, I'm borrowing the
characters and such, but I will put them back like a good little girl.
Well, maybe not Spike...

Summary: AU. Everyone's human.

Dedication: Sun-chan, Jason, Kayla, Mae, MysLii, Kaylin, Jade, Angelus,
Spike's Babytalk, and Kelley for encouraging me to continue! Oh, and
Kelley--thanks for commenting on Fumbling Towards Ecstacy!

Feedback: Please! It makes me write more.

Notes:

~*~ Buffy the High School Student ~*~

Spike chipperly offered to take Buffy to school that morning, after
wittily explaining that he had had some pressing business to take care
of yesterday. Joyce had accepted the answer, and had asked him what
had happened, and he said it was familial business. Joyce stopped
questioning him after that.

"You are *such* a liar," Buffy scoffed, accepting the offered ride to
school.

"'Bout what, love?" he asked, rolling down the window slightly and
sparking a cigarette.

Buffy snatched the cancer stick from his hands and stubbed it out in the
ash tray. "You lied to my mother about what went on last night."

"What, did you expect me to tell your mum that I spent last night with
the woman of my dreams in a sleazy motel? How much d'you think your
mum would like that?" Spike replied, pulling another cigarette from the
pack and glaring at her. She reached up to grab it away and he said,
"Move your hand anymore and I'll bloody bite it off, Princess."

"Oooh I'm shaking my fashionable and expensive boots," Buffy retorted,
grabbing the cigarette anyway and stubbing it out in the ash tray again.

"You bloody bint," he growled. "Those things aren't cheap, you know!"

"Then stop buying them. You'll be surprised how much more money you'll
retain," Buffy answered crossly.

Spike shook his head and rolled his eyes. "You are one crazy little
psycho bint, you know that?"

"What the hell does 'bint' mean anyway? And I'm not crazy, or little,
or psycho, *William*," she glared.

"C'mon, Queen B, can't you figure out what 'bint' means on your own?"
he taunted. "Or is there anything in that cavernous head of yours
'sides air?"

"I hate you," Buffy said. "I really hate you."

"Aw, I'm touched," he pulled into the school parking lot and drove
around looking for a spot.

"You're about to be punched if you don't shut up," Buffy told him,
climbing out of the car the moment he parked. "Thanks for the ride,
think I'll be hitching with Will though tonight, so don't wait up."

Spike rolled his eyes and called after her, "Wouldn't wait up for you
anyway, you snotty bitch!"

Buffy flipped him the bird and continued walking towards the school,
not even looking back.

"That girl..." Spike shook his head, locked his car, and followed her
inside.

***
"Spike here today?" Willow asked Buffy.

"Unfortunately," the blond replied sadly, walking with the redhead down
the hallway towards her locker. "Why?"

"Just wondering," Willow gave Buffy a smile, but her cheeks were tinged
pink.

Buffy frowned, "You okay, Wills?"

"Yeah, fine," she nodded. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just...got all flushed when I said Spike was--ooooooooh no,"
realization hit Buffy. "No. No! You *cannot* have a thing for
that...that...thing!"

"'Have a thing for that thing'? That may be the most intelligent
phrase that's left your mouth all mornin'," Spike came up behind the
girls and threw an arm around both of their shoulders. "Mornin' Red."

"Morning Spike," she answered, smiling at him.

"Hey, Billy Idol, mind leaving my friends alone?" Xander said,
approaching the trio with Cordelia at his side.

Spike respectfully took his arm from Buffy and Willow, but not before
kissing each girl's cheek.

"Ew! Gross! Don't do that again, Spike," Buffy glared.

Willow just blushed and tried to hide it. Spike looked curiously at
the shy Cordelia Chase and said, "Who's this lovely woman here to
grace us with her presence?"

Xander rolled his eyes and Cordy averted her eyes to the ground.
"Cordy, this is William Walthrop. We call him Spike though 'cause
he's about as smart as one."

"Hey," Spike scoffed.

"Peroxide Boy, this is Cordelia Chase," Xander told him.

"Hi there," Spike grinned at her. Cordelida just smiled slightly at
him and edged closer to Xander. Spike then whispered to Xander, "Think
she fancies you, mate."

"I'm not your mate," Xander told him. "And speak English, freak."

"Your beau's not very nice, is 'e?" Spike asked Cordelia. Her eyes went
wide and her cheeks flamed.

"He's not my 'beau'," she protested quietly. "I just met him yesterday..."

"But you fancy the bloke, don't you?" he inquired.

"Spike leave her alone," Buffy smacked him on the arm.

"C'mon Cordy," Xander said. "I don't want to be around Blondie anymore.
See ya in Trig, Wills."

"Bye," the group, sans Spike, chorused.

***
It was sixth period. And Spike was still at school. The student body
was thrown to see him wandering the halls to his sixth period class,
and Willow learned that he was in her sixth period class. She vaguely
remembered him being there on the first day, but didn't really pay
attention. At the time she had had the same distaste for him as the
rest of her group did.

But now she figured out why the seat next to her in English was always
empty.

"Fancy that," Spike said as he took the seat next to her. "Looks
like we sit with each other, Red."

Willow laughed lightly. "I don't have a problem with that."

"And nor do I with you," Spike nodded. "Gotta question for you."

"Yeah?" Willow asked, raising an eyebrow.

Spike folded his hands on the desk and looked at her, "You busy
tonight?"

Willow's heart fluttered into her throat. She shook her head, not
trusting her voice. Spike smiled, "Good. Pick you up around seven
then?"

She nodded. Meanwhile her heart was doing its own little happy dance
and her stomach was doing flipflops. Spike had just asked her out on
a date! If she was the fainting type, undoubtedly she'd be on the
floor by now. "Wait a minute," she frowned. "What about that Dru
woman you were with?"

"Drusilla?" Spike replied. Willow nodded. "Fling, Red. Sorta. It's
complicated, I'll explain tonight."

"O-okay," Willow replied. She noticed the teacher had yet to enter
the room. "Tara!" she called to the girl across the room.

"Yeah?" Tara called back.

"Where's Mrs. Robinson?" she asked.

Tara shrugged. "Dunno. No one does!"

"That's weird," Willow frowned.

"D'you think summat happened to her?" he wondered aloud. "Never met
the bloke, but..."

"Maybe she had an emergency she needed to attend to," Jesse turned his
chair around and leaned on Willow's desk. "You know, maybe her sister
died or somethin'."

"Maybe," Willow frowned some more. The principle then walked in.

"Pardon me, class," the principle said. "But...it appears Mrs. Robinson
won't be able to attend class today." The class stared at him. "She
won't be attending class for the rest of the year." The class stared
at him some more. "It appears Mrs. Robinson has...passed on..."

"What?" cried the class incredulously.

"What happened?!" Willow demanded.

"She was...murdered. Found in the back of the parking lot," the
principle sighed. "By a black 1959 DeSoto." The color drained
from Spike's face. "Ms. Hannigan was found there as well."

Willow's eyes went wide and she looked at Spike, who looked
whiter than a sheet.

"We're going to close down the school until we figure out who
murdered the two," the principle continued. "You're all free
to go home. But if that DeSoto belongs to anyone in here--that
has to stay here."

The class slowly got up and walked, subdued, out the door and
out of the school. Willow walked with Spike. "Is something
wrong?"

"That's my car," he whispered. "Willow, you know I didn't do
it though, right? I didn't even bloody go near Ms. H today, I
behaved myself!"

"I know Spike," Willow patted his arm. "I know you didn't do
it. You had no reason too."

"But...they're going to think I bloody knocked them off 'cause
of my car and my past," Spike ran a hand through his hair and
walked with Willow out of the school. "Dammit."

"What?" Willow looked at him.

"I have no bloody way to go back home. I drove the princess
here this mornin'," he sighed.

"Well I was supposed to go with Buffy to the library to study
after school but...I could take you home," Willow smiled.

"Would William Walthrop please come to the front office?"
the intercom announced. "Would William Walthrop please
come to the front office?"

"Bloody *hell*," Spike groaned. "See ya 'round, Will. Maybe
they'll give me my bloody car back."

"Bye Spike," she waved and left to go find Buffy as he started
towards the front office.

Spike arrived at the front office, "William Walthrop. You
blokes called me up here."

The secretary looked at the police officers standing out of the
way with Mrs. Radner. Spike muttered under his breath and
approached them, reminding himself to be polite or it would
get him in trouble. "Afternoon, officers, Mrs. Radner," he said.

"William," Mrs. Radner smiled.

"Mrs. Radner," Spike returned the smile. "You wanted to see me
'bout something?"

"William, you own a 1959 DeSoto, correct?" Mrs. Radner asked
gently.

"Yes," Spike nodded slowly, knowing he was digging himself a
hole. "Why?"

"Mr. Walthorp--" one of the officers started.

"Walthrop, sir," Spike corrected.

The officer nodded. "Mr. Walthrop, where were you between
the hours of eleven a.m. and 12:30 p.m. today?"

"In class, sir," Spike replied. Like they had any reason to believe
him. They had it on record he never stayed much after lunch.

"Which class?" the officer inquired.

"English," Spike said, jamming his hands into his pockets
casually. "I think. Yeah. English was the last class I was in.
Before that I was at lunch."

"Are you sure now, son?" the second officer asked.

*Yes, you bloody bastard, I'm sure,* Spike growled inwardly.
"Yes."

"If we asked your classmates would they say the same thing?" the first
officer wanted to know.

"Yes," Spike ground out between clenched teeth. He never could
tolerate law-enforcers. "Why wouldn't they?"

"We have records that since school started you only attended one
full day of school, Mr. Walthrop," the second officer informed him.
"We have reason to believe you aren't telling us the truth."

"Fine. I'm eighteen you know, I can do what I bloody want," he
grumbled.

"True, but that does *not* include murder, Mr. Walthrop," the
first officer raised his eyebrow.

"I didn't do it," Spike told them forcefully. "I came to school today
and stayed all day. Check the attendance if you're so bloody
paranoid."

"We did. It shows you not attending anything after lunch," the
second officer sighed.

"Oh for the bloody Christ's sake!" Spike threw his arms up in the
air. "I'm outta here. Until you can provide me with some bloody
proof that I'm a suspect, besides my bloody car being near the
damn bodies, don't bother me."

He turned and started out. The officer grabbed him by the arm.
"Mr. Walthrop, I believe this belongs to you." He held up a plastic
bag containing the knife Spike carried out of habit. "We checked
the finger prints already and they match yours. The blood on the
knife matches those of the victims. You have the right to remain
silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the
court of law. If you cannot provide a lawyer, one will be given to
you."

They snapped the cuffs over Spike's wrists. He closed his eyes and
compliantly trudged out the front door, the three passing Willow's
car.

***
"Oh my god," Willow's eyes went wide. "They arrested him!"

Buffy looked up from filing her nails and watched the officers
jostle Spike into the back of the squad car. "Wow. Finally busted
him. Wonder what for."

"I'll bet they think he murder Ms. H and Mrs. Robinson," Willow said
despairingly. "He didn't do it though...I was with him almost all
day. I mean, he even ate lunch near us, you know?"

Buffy shrugged. "Let's just go to the library."

"I think your mom deserves to know about this, Buffy," Willow
frowned.

Buffy sighed. "Fine. Let's go to my house then. We can study
just as well there."

So Willow drove them to Buffy's house. Buffy unlocked the
door and let themselves in and walked over to the phone, dialing
Joyce's number. She briefly told her that Spike had been arrested
and to expect a call from him in a few.

"Well, Mom's freaked now. Especially after Spike stayed out all
night and went to school all day today," Buffy yawned. "I'm gonna
call Angel. Be right back."

Willow shook her head and hugged her knees to her chest on the
couch. "He asked me out, you know."

"What?" Buffy put the phone back on the cradle mid-ring. "Who?"

"Spike," Willow sighed. "He asked me out in English."

Buffy was having trouble processing this. "Spike...asked...*you*
out?"

"What? Is that such a...a...an unbelievable thing that someone
would ask me out?" Willow asked.

"No, not that," Buffy shook her head. She frowned. "Never
that. It's just...Spike? And...please tell me you didn't accept.
I *know* you have a thing for him but please tell me you didn't..."

"I did," Willow looked up at the ceiling. "And now he's been
arrested for something he didn't do."

"How do you know he didn't do it? We didn't watch him the
whole time," Buffy shrugged. "And look at what kind of person
he is, Wills."

"He wouldn't kill anybody," Willow glared, her eyes filling up
with tears. "He wouldn't. He's really a nice guy, you're just such
a bitch to him most of the time that he just snaps at you all the
time!"

"I'm not a bitch," Buffy replied, her eyes begining to well up as
well. "And he's an asshole, Willow, he is! I live with him, he's
just a suck up and a charmer! You know he spent all of yesterday
out having sex with that bimbo he found at The Bronze?"

"He was going to explain to me about that," Willow wiped at her
eyes. "You just always automatically assume the worst of him,
like, like he's some kind of...of...always-doing-the-worst-thing-
imaginable guy!"

Buffy just shook her head and wiped her eyes. "Well who would
kill Ms. H and and Mrs. Robinson and put them by Spike's car?"

"Why would he do it *by* his car? He's not stupid," Willow sniffed.

"Whatever. I just don't trust him," Buffy shook her head. "Let's
try to study, okay?"

Willow nodded and reached for her backpack.

***
"Wonder who killed Ms. H," Xander wondered aloud, going down
the sidewalk with Cordelia.

"I don't know," Cordelia sighed. "I-I kinda liked her. I didn't know
her that well, b-but I liked her."

"Everyone liked her. Even Spike, but that dead-head would never
admit it," Xander put his hands in his pockets and gave his skateboard
another leisurely pump of his foot.

"Are he and Buffy going out or something?" Cordelia asked of Xander.

Xander stopped and burst out laughing. "No, no. That's funny,
Cordy, but no...they hate each other. They live in the same house
but it's only 'cause Joyce wanted it that way."

"Who's Joyce?" Cordy asked.

"Buffy's mom," Xander shrugged. "She likes The Peroxided Wonder
for some reason."

"He's...uh...charming," Cordelia replied, dropping her books on
accident after tripping over a rock. Xander stopped his skateboard
and picked up her books for her. "I...I can handle it Xander..."

"No, you keep dropping your stuff. Let me hold it," Xander resumed
his leisurely pace as Cordelia walked next to him.

"If you must," Cordelia folded her arms over her chest.

"I must," Xander gave her a decisive nod. "Wanna drop our stuff off
at my house and go do something?"

Cordelia blinked, "Uh...sure."

Xander smiled, "C'mon. My house isn't that far away." He turned the
corner and jumped onto the road from the curb.

"Xander!" Cordelia cried.

"What?" Xander asked. "I know what I'm doing, Cordy."

Cordelia shook her head and hurried after him. They put their stuff
in the basement, which had become Xander's domicile, and Xander
led Cordelia downtown. "What'cha wanna do?"

"I don't know," Cordy shrugged. "Wanna show me where the Bronze
is?"

"Sure," Xander replied, grabbing her hand. "Hop on."

"What?" Cordelia looked at the skateboard. "I won't fit."

"Sure you will," Xander stepped off and lifted her onto the skateboard.
Then he stepped up in front of her and she wrapped her arms tightly
around his waist as he sped off to the Bronze on his skateboard.

***
"I can't believe this," Spike lay with his legs vertically parallel to the
wall and his torso horizontally parallel to the floor on the uncomfortable
cot in the cell. "You can't do this!" he yelled. "The bloody knife isn't
enough evidence! And the teacher couldn't take my attendance during
lunch or after, 'cause she got bloody knocked off!"

"Shut up in there," called the guard sitting by the phone.

"I didn't kill *anyone*!" Spike yelled. He kicked the wall in boredom.
Then he got an idea. "I'm Henry the Eighth I am, Henry the Eighth I
am, I am!"
***

"This is the Bronze," Xander stepped off the skateboard with Cordy
and tucked it under his arm. "Looks like they opened it early 'cause
school got cancelled. Wanna go inside?"

Cordelia shrugged and followed him inside, Xander paying for her
cover charge. Music blared from the speakers, and the club was
already packed. Xander left his skateboard with the bouncer and
led Cordy over to the bar. "Two Diet Cokes," he ordered.

He handed one to Cordy and drank down his, paying for both of the
drinks. "So, wanna dance when you're done with that, Cordy?"

Cordelia smiled and nodded, taking a gulp of Diet Coke and burping
loudly. Xander just laughed and took her hand, leading her onto the
dance floor.

If Cordelia was usually a klutz when she walked, one would not know
the one dancing with Xander to be the same Cordelia Chase. This one
was graceful and balanced, and Xander found himself becoming more
and more attracted to her. He'd started feeling it yesterday, getting to
know her better, and even calling her the previous night, but now that
he was talking with her more and dancing with her, he knew he had a
crush. How could LA have let go of this girl?

---
Electricity, eye to eye
Hey don't I know you?
I can't speak...

Strip my senses on the spot
I've never been defenseless
----

Xander had never fallen for a girl this fast before. Maybe it was a
bad thing to have developed feelings for her so fast, but...it felt so
good. And it looked like she "fancied" him, like Spike had so blatantly
pointed out that morning.

---
I can't even make sense of this
You speak and I don't hear a word

What would happen if we kissed?
Would your tongue slip past my lips?
Would you run away?
---

Cordelia's arms had somehow found their way around his neck, and
his arms around her waist. She could not take her eyes away from
his, and if she wasn't mistaken she at least saw lust in those eyes.
She...ah...felt it too, but that's a different story.

---
Would you stay?
Would I melt into you?
Mouth to mouth
Lust to lust
Spontaneously combust
---

"I have a kind of personal question to ask you," Xander said, amazed
his voice sounded so even.

"Oh?" Cordelia replied.

"Have you ever been kissed?"

---
The room is spinning, out of control
You act like you didn't notice, you brushed my hand
Forbidden fruit, ring on my finger
You're such a moral, moral man
Would you throw it away, no questions
Will I pretend I'm innocent...
---

"No," Cordelia answered truthfully.

"That's a shock," Xander's eyebrows went up into his hair. "Because I
was thinking that such a beautiful," he brushed her hair out of her eyes,
"intelligent," he trailed his fingers down her spine, making her shiver,
"charming woman like yourself would have boys throwing themselves at
you."

Cordelia blushed. "I'm none of those things."

"You are," Xander smiled and removed her arms from his neck, holding
her hands. "And I can't tell you how much I wanna kiss you right now, so
I'm just gonna...do it..." he lowered his mouth to hers in a searing,
blinding kiss.

***
"I got married to the widow next door! She's been married seven times
before! And everyone was a Henry! And she wouldn't have a Willy or a
Sam! I'm her eighth old man, I'm Henry! Henry the Eighth I am!" Spike
sang at the top of his lungs, kicking the beat on the wall. Hell, if he was
going to be penned up in here, he might as well make it a living hell for
everyone else. "Third verse, same as the first! I'm Henry the Eighth I
am, Henry the Eighth I am, I am, I got married to the widow next door!"

The parole officer marched down to his cell and banged his night stick on
the cell bars. "Shut up in there."

"She's been married seven times before! And everyone was a Henry!
And she wouldn't have a Willy or a Sam! I'm her eighth old man, I'm
Henry!" Spike continued, unfazed.

The guard threw his hands up in the air and stormed off.

"Henry the Eighth I am!"