Chapter 2: Fitting In

The cafeteria was buzzing with the usual activity. Jocks tossing around the ol' pigskin, much to the dismay of the cafeteria staff, girls whispering feverishly about the latest gossip about Jenny Mitchell and Hogan Martin going out, nerds conspiratorially discussing the virtues of the Starship Enterprise as opposed to the Starship Voyager, shy wallflowers gazing weakly as they silently munched on the inedible sludge they called the daily lunch platter. Buffy, Oz, Willow and Xander all sat amongst it, happily lost in their own world of banter.

"Why do they call it Jell-O? I mean, there's no O-ish aspect to it at all. I've only seen it in squares at this cafeteria. Shouldn't they call it Jell-Square? Jell-Cuboid?" Xander shook the giggling mass in his hands.

"You are a man of deep reflective thought, Xander," Oz observed, draping his arm around Willow's chair.

"So Buffy, how's the Dark, Handsome Avenger?" Willow asked attentively, turning to her blond best friend.

Xander ducked and blushed. "Oh come on Will, I'm right here."

Buffy gave him a playfully chiding look. "You mean Angel? Dunno. Haven't really seen him these days. He's kind of in brood-mode. Does that every other full moon."

"Yeah, that full moon will trap you into all sorts of nasty habits," Oz said. "Which reminds me, you gonna hang in the library with me tonight, you know, keep watch, make sure I don't get all publicly wolf-y?" He turned to Willow, who nodded.

"He came by the graveyard, last few minutes of patrol last night. Said that we could meet up at the Bronze tonight. Kinda excited." Buffy grinned dreamily, lost in girlish romantic fever. Xander snorted disdainfully. Suddenly Willow sprang up, her hand waving furiously in the air. All the rest averted their gaze to see whom she was gesturing at.

Spike. Xander's look of disapproval burned deeper into his countenance as he caught sight of Spike sulking into the cafeteria, gazing around absently. "Him. Don't invite him over here!" Willow shot Xander a chastising look.

"Xander! Giles told us we have to be nice to him. Besides, he's in my math class. He's really nice . . ." She frowned when she saw all the disbelieving stares. " . . . Once you get to know him," she added. "Hey Spike!"

Spike gazed around to locate her voice and stopped when he saw her. Nervously, he tried in vain to look around for anyone cooler to sit with. "M-maybe he can't see us," Willow reasoned, frowning when he didn't come right over.

"Oh he can see us," Buffy mumbled. "He's just playing All-High-And-Mighty-Of-the-Lunchroom." Finally, sighing, Spike gave up and approached them.

"Hi, Red," he said smiling friendly-like at Willow. He nodded towards the rest. "Umm, Xander, Oz . . . Betty."

"It's Buffy!" Buffy clenched her teeth. No matter what Giles says, I don't like him. I can be nice to him, but I don't have to like him.

"Hi Spike!" Willow greeted him pleasantly. "How's the first day going?"

He shrugged. "Alright, I suppose. That Cordy girl who showed me around s'a really chatty bird, in't she? Nice-looking I suppose, but you can't ever get her to shut her bloody gob." Buffy restrained a giggle at Spike's accurate description of Cordelia. Shocked she was nearly caught laughing at one of Spike's jokes, she sunk into her chair.

"Yeah, Cordelia's something else," Willow agreed, frowning as she internally thought of worse euphemisms for Cordelia.

"So tell me," Spike said as he lounged in a plastic chair backwards, his legs hanging over the sides. "What's the what in Sunnydale? What 'ave you all got to do around here? 'Sides cow tippin' I mean." He grabbed an apple off of Buffy's lunch tray, eliciting a venomous glare from Buffy. " So where do all the blokes go?" He continued through massive bites of apple. "Y'know, where's the hotspot in town? Any good pubs?"

"W-we're not really big on pubs in Sunnydale. Oh! B-but the Bronze!" Willow's eyes brightened. "It's really cool, it's where all the teenagers around here hang out."

"The Bronze?"

"Yeah, me and my band play there sometimes," Oz said. Spike turned to him in interest.

"You got a band?"

"Yeah. It's called the Dingoes Ate My Babies."

Spike chuckled, shocking all with his sudden good humor. "Sharp name."

"Yeah, we like to think so," Oz agreed.

"Y'know back in London, I played in a band myself."

"Oh yeah?" A sudden spark of interest surged into Oz's eyes, something that equally took the Scoobs aback.

"Yeah, it was called the Meat Cleavers," Spike grinned proudly.

Oz stared at him wide-eyed. "No . . . really?! I've heard of the Meat Cleavers!"

"You 'ave?"

"Yeah totally! My friend Devin gave me a tape of theirs—yours, when he went visiting some friend in London last summer. You guys rock!"

"Yeah?" Spike looked flattered and struggled to maintain a humble expression. "I dunno, I kind of think we lost focus as we went on, y'know."

"No way! I mean, you guys are really good. Y-you guys know more than . . . like five chords!"

Spike blushed. "Yeah, well, we do our best."

"Wow, I gotta tell Devin that someone from the Meat Cleavers actually goes here!"

"Hey, maybe we can group up sometime, y'know . . jam."

"That's would be awesome!" Oz's face was becoming increasingly flushed as once in his life, he was actually projecting some sort of emotion. It had alarmed and stunned the rest of the lunch table's occupants. Xander frowned furiously, obviously displeased that his only close guy friend was finding so much in common with his immediate enemy. Willow beamed, happy that her boyfriend was getting along so well with her new friend. Buffy just stared, feeling conflicting emotions of disdain and confusion over this suddenly, half-likeable Spike as he interacted peaceably with Oz. The two continued to compare musical techniques and interests, laughing and joking.

"Hey, maybe you can come to the Bronze tonight, hang out with me and the band," Oz said enthusiastically, but his face soon fell as Willow poked him, reminding him gently of werewolf patrol. "Oh . . . except I've got . . . other stuff . . . to do." He frowned disappointedly.

"B-but you should still go to the Bronze!" Willow encouraged Spike. "Go there, meet people, socialize. It's a really fun place."

Spike shook his head. "I'm not gonna go by myself like a wanker."

"Y-you could go with B-Buffy! She's going tonight anyway." Willow pointed out. Buffy's eyes widened in alarmed protest as she kicked Willow under the table. Angel, she mouthed to her best friend silently, who shrugged her shoulders helplessly. Spike looked towards Buffy who stopped mid-furious shake of the head. He gazed at her thoughtfully.

"As much as I would like to hang with a pretty little git like yourself, I've got better things to do," he remarked sourly, abruptly getting up from the table to leave. Buffy heaved a sigh of relief, but frowned when she realized he was half-way insulting her. "Hey!"

"Well I'll be seeing all." Spike nodded towards the table. "Red," he gave a wink, "Always a pleasure." Willow smiled broadly. "And Oz--" he pointed at the teen werewolf, "I'll catch you later, mate?"

Oz nodded. "Definitely."

He turned to Buffy and Xander, who maintained awkward, suspicious looks "Xander . . ." he paused as his lips fell into a sort of suggestive smirk. "Betty."

Buffy twitched uncomfortably in her chair. Something about his gaze toward her was very unsettling. "It's BUFFY!"

"Whatever." With that he stalked away from the table, only to be captured by Cordelia and her screeching group of harlots who rounded up Spike like a helpless animal. They began petting him, smiling at him, clawing at his duster and clothes, and in short leaving him utterly uncomfortable. Harmony in particular took a fervent interest in getting to know him as she chattered on, asking him where he'd previously lived, and whether he had ever been to France before, she heard it was "like, right next to England". Spike shuddered and wondered what he had done to deserve such a fate. Buffy, however, smiled to see he had found a fitting end.

"Looks like we don't need to dole out the Welcome Wagon then," she smiled. "Harm and all them got that pretty much covered."

Xander sniggered devilishly in agreement. "Oh yes, those flesh-eating wenches should make him feel right at home. I give them my well-wishes."

Willow shook her head disapprovingly. "Just remember what Giles said, guys. Let's try to fit him into our little coven of Scoobiness, hmmm?"

Xander and Buffy both sunk in their chairs once more. "Yes Mom," they grumbled in unison.