15 Minutes of Fame
Disclaimer: I don't own Playgirl, although I wish I did. It's not mine, never has been, never will be. Now that that's out of the way, on with the story…
Chapter 3
UCLA Campus…
Buffy returned to her dorm room after her first day of classes and she was downright exhausted. 'Who knew that college would be so tiring? Weren't there supposed to be parties? I heard there were parties.' Dropping onto her bed, she picked her laptop off her nightstand and opened it, turning the computer on and connecting to the internet. 'If I don't email the parentals they'll think I'm dead or something,' she thought amused. Logging onto her email account, Buffy thought for a moment before beginning to type.
Dear Mom and Giles,
Well I survived my first day. All of my classes seem very cool and the profs are very…well they remind me somewhat of slave-drivers. Or what I would imagine slave-drivers would have been like. Anyhow life is continuing, the world is still spinning and I've got homework to do. What kind of teacher assigns homework on the first day, you ask? That would be my Psych prof, she seems like a real…nice lady (you know I'm lying and you know what word I'm thinking of so why should I put it in here?).
That's about all I have to report on for the moment. I'll be sure to email you guys tomorrow if I get a chance.
Hugs & Kisses all around!
Buffy
She sent the message and opened the one Spike had sent her. She read it, laughing at the fact that even through email he still seemed to convey a sense of sarcasm and wit. She clicked the reply button and began typing.
Spike,
Aww, I miss talking to my favorite guy too (that's you dummy!) I wish I could be in New York with you. That sounds so exciting. L.A. isn't bad, but it's nothing terribly new. I still can't believe that you're 3,000 miles away! How weird is that? I hope I can come out there and visit you some time. Who knows, maybe I'll save up enough this semester to buy a plane ticket out there. Or maybe I can just hide in the bottom with the luggage.
Had my first day of classes today. They don't seem too horrible…yet. Most of my Profs were cool, but there were a few less than pleasant ones mixed in. I heard an upperclassman call my new Psych teacher "the evil bitch monster of death". That just makes me so excited for the coming semester.
How is school? You better be getting something out of it, I mean after all you did leave me all alone out here to pursue this acting thing so it better pay off! I'm just kidding.
I gotta run. I have homework to do, God how I loathe those words!
Luv ya,
Buffy
P.S. Riley is wonderful, thanks for asking! ;)
Logging off, Buffy closed her laptop and set it aside. "Now for some good earnest reading," she said aloud groaning at the idea of reading an entire third of the book in one night. She opened to the first page and began reading; before she hit the first page Buffy was trying desperately to keep her eyes open.
"I just need a little caffeine," she told herself climbing up off of her bed. "Just need a little energy boost." Buffy wasn't three steps from the door when it flew open and Anya and some guy stumbled in. They were locked together, faced smashed against one another, hands flying everywhere.
Buffy stood there in shock for a moment. Noticing that the two were very highly involved in their current activities, she slipped out the door and closed it behind her. Thinking for a moment, Buffy made her way across the hall to Willow's and knocked on the door.
"C'mon in!" called the cheery voice from the other side.
Buffy poked her head inside. "Mind if I crash here for a while. Anya brought a new friend home and they're…well…bonding."
"Sure," the red head answered. She scooted over on her large bed making room for her newest friend.
"So your roommate never showed up, huh?" Buffy asked taking a seat at the bottom of the conjoined beds. Since the second bed in Willow's room was vacant, the girl had pushed the two beds together for extra space.
"No, the housing office said she sent for her transcript yesterday. Guess she decided on a different college. One that isn't, you know, here."
Buffy giggled softly. "Well consider yourself lucky. I'm stuck with sex-starved Anya over there. Do you know that after my parents left she showed me her Playgirl collection? My God, the stuff she talked about would make even the most avid sexaholic blush."
Willow broke into hysterics. Tears ran down her face and landed silently on her bedspread. "You're kidding right? I never pictured Anya as the kinky type."
"People aren't always what you expect," Buffy said recalling the number of times her parents had said that exact same thing to her.
"I guess so," Willow added.
New York City…
Spike was so happy he could skip; he wouldn't skip, mind you, but he could. After only two weeks of classes one of his teachers had brought him the opportunity of a life time. Mr. Kepp, his dramatics teacher and voice coach, had approached him with an offer to be in a Broadway play. Granted the role was small with no more than ten lines, but it was just the kind of thing Spike needed. Once he got his foot in the door there would be no stopping him.
"What are you so happy about?" Xander asked when Spike came bounding through the door whistling.
"My life's lookin' up, Whelp," Spike told him.
Xander frowned at the mention of his brand new nickname. "And why is that British man?"
"Professor Kepp offered me a part today," Spike said holding the best part.
"And…" Xander asked.
"On Broadway," Spike concluded. He himself couldn't believe it; it must be a dream. 'Bloody well better not be,' he thought.
"That's awesome," Xander said in congratulations. "I'm very jealous."
"Knew you would be," Spike laughed. He detoured around his roommate and made a dash for his desk.
"What are you up to now, Captain Peroxide?" Xander laughed.
"I told you not to call me that," Spike growled half-hearted; he couldn't even be mad a Xander at the moment. "And I'm emailing Buffy. She'll want to know about this."
"Again with the Buffy," he groaned. "What's the deal with this girl anyhow? Did you guys date at some point in time?"
"Unfortunately no," Spike answered. "Not for lack of trying on my part, I might add."
Xander nodded in understanding. "One of those 'good friends' things? I've been there."
"I'm sure you have," Spike laughed. "But you've never know anyone like Buffy; there's no one in the world like Buffy. When she laughs…it's like angels singing. Everything about her is just so—perfect. She's like a goddess put on this earth to be admired, but never obtained; untouchable."
"Untouchable to you or to everyone?" Xander asked.
"Apparently just to me," Spike answered. "She's got a boyfriend at the moment; a bloody wanker with the overall intelligence of a pineapple. Real stiff and proper, military type."
"And let me guess, she only sees you as a friend. But that's not what you want."
Spike looked up at the brunette with an estranged glare. "What are you, bloody Nostradamas? Yes that's the situation, now will you let me alone for ten minutes?"
"Okay, backing away, hands in the air," Xander defended himself. "Have fun emailing you goddess, Spike," he added before leaving the room.
"Bloody whelp."