15 Minutes of Fame

Chapter 4

UCLA campus…

Buffy was sitting at a crowded table in the UCLA library. Her bag rested at her feet and her nose was buried in her Psych book. 'What kind of teacher assigns a 5 page paper in the first two weeks of school?' Her eyes darted from her book to the notebook she was jotting notes in.

"Hey," Willow greeted, a little too loudly. A group of students at nearby table sent her disapproving stares.

Buffy smiled brightly, welcoming the distraction from her work. "Hey Will."

"I just dropped by to tell you that there was some guy looking for you," Willow said. "He was a real cutie too. Brown hair, gorgeous eyes, ugh and his body--it was to die for!"

"Did he happen to leave a name or anything?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah, said his name was Finn or something," Willow added.

"Riley," Buffy smiled. She quickly gathered up her things and rose from the table. "Where is he?"

"I took him to your room," Will said. "Anya's keeping him company."

"Oh that's wonderful," Buffy said sarcastically, "God only knows what she'll do to him. Thanks Willow. I'll see you later."

Before Willow could say another word, Buffy was gone.

"So then the guy got all cynical and sarcastic with me. He said I was 'too loud and obnoxious'. Who is he to talk to me like that? Just because he's a teacher and all."

Riley sat on what he presumed to be Buffy's bed. He hadn't had a chance to ask her roommate, let alone say a word since he got there. Oddly enough the last thing he said was "Hi I'm Riley." After that it was a one-sided conversation.

"Not to interrupt or anything," Riley snuck in while Anya caught her breath, "but when do you expect Buffy back?"

"Oh who knows? She's probably out studying or something. She's such a little busy beaver, always with her nose in one book or another."

Just then the door creaked open and Buffy entered, dropping her bag on the floor and nearly jumping into Riley's lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and attacked his lips with her own.

"What are you doing here?" she asked breaking from the embrace.

"I had to see you," Riley said. He climbed off the bed and wrapped his arms around Buffy. "Is there some place we can go that's…not here?" he whispered.

"Sure," Buffy giggled. "Hey Anya, we're gonna go down to the grotto for a latte, I'll be back later." Not waiting for a response, Buffy quickly left the room pulling Riley along behind her.

"So what are you doing here?" Buffy asked once they were safely out of the building and on their way down the bike path.

"Gee, I thought you'd be more excited to see me," Riley joked. He sought out Buffy's hand with his own and gripped her smaller one tightly.

"You know I am," Buffy told him with a smile, "it's just that I didn't expect to see you so soon. It's a surprise—but of the good kind. Like a gift when you're not expecting one. Oh, did you get me a gift!?"

"No gift, sorry."

Buffy stuck out her lips in a well dramatized pout. "Well if you didn't come down with gifts, why are you here?"

"Well I called my family down in Santa Monica and they told me to come down anytime I wanted. And…well…what time better than the present?" Stopping momentarily on the dirt path, Riley turned to Buffy and placed his hand on the back of her neck, bringing their faces together in a gentle kiss.

Buffy leaned into her boyfriend, enjoying the feeling of his larger body against her own. His hands rested softly on her hips, thumbs tracing small circles in the small of her back.

"Mmm," Buffy groaned. "Not sure I'm hungry for coffee anymore. I think I want something…sweeter?"

"Any idea what that could be?" Riley asked attacking Buffy's neck.

"Ah hem," came the voice. Both Buffy and Riley spun around quickly, once again feeling like they were back in high school and got caught kissing in a secluded hallway.

"Professor Walsh," Buffy blushed, her face turning a shade that it shouldn't be physically able to.

"Miss Summers," the older woman nodded to Riley with a disapproving look, "I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your paper. Your point of view was very unique; you have real potential. I hope to see more of it."

Buffy smiled shyly before replying, "Thank you very much Professor Walsh." The older woman nodded sullenly at Riley and continued on her way. "Did you hear that?" Buffy asked her boyfriend once Professor Walsh was out of earshot.

"Hear what?"

"She liked my paper. She said I have potential…real potential! I'm full of potential." Buffy was glowing, smiling from ear to ear with her new found sense of pride.

"I heard that," Riley said showing nowhere near the amount of enthusiasm that Buffy had.

"Why aren't you happy then? Shouldn't you be happy for me?"

"I am," he assured her. "I didn't know it was that big of a deal."

"It really is," Buffy retorted. "I got a real compliment from a college professor on a paper that I wrote. I never got any of that in high school. Hell I was lucky if half the teachers knew my name in high school. College is just so different, but good different. Here you can be anyone you want to be and no one can tell you not to."

"I guess it's okay," Riley mumbled. "Now how about that coffee?"

"Yeah," Buffy agreed slowly, "sure."

New York City

Spike couldn't believe this. Not only had he taken the wrong train, but then he had gotten off and run half a mile to the theater. He'd nearly been run over by more than a dozen yellow taxis, and each and every one of them had honked their horn angrily at him. Finally reaching his destination, Spike burst through the door, coughing and staggering with fatigue, to an audience of onlookers with irritated faces.

"Can I help you sir?" an older gentleman asked.

"My name's William. I'm here for the rehearsal," Spike told the group. A number of blank stares greeted him from not only the assembled crowd, but a few people in the theater itself.

"You're William O'Conner?" the man asked incredulously; Spike nodded. "William O'Conner from the Academy of Theater and Arts?" Again Spike nodded. The man circled Spike slowly, as if sizing him up for a fight. "I suppose you will do," he concluded. "Follow me."

Spike followed the man, who later introduced himself as Mr. Rinhall, behind the curtain. He was given the 5-second tour of the dressing rooms, tech rooms, costume department and prop tables.

"We are just about to start the rehearsal for today," Rinhall told Spike. "We'll be working with act two, scenes two and three and also act three, scenes one through four. We will not be needing you until act three so feel free to have a seat and learn your lines."

Taking the suggestions, Spike grabbed a seat toward the back of the theater and pulled out his copy of the script. He flipped through the first two acts and began memorizing his lines in act three.

'Mr. McKenzie is here to see you ma'am. The dress? Why I think it's flattering on you. You look absolutely stunning in black.' Spike repeated the lines to himself, trying to imagine the female lead's voice in his own mind. He'd read the script numerous times, and was fascinated with the plot. It had everything that one looked for in a good evening at the theater: drama, romance, suspense, and a wonderful ending.

'This could be the break I've been waiting for,' he thought happily.'Everything will change after this. Buffy will finally see that I'm the one for her and she'll come out here for school. It'll be perfect.'

"William! We're ready for you onstage," Mr. Rinhall ordered.

Spike grabbed his script and darted for the steps, fully ready to start the next chapter in his life.