A/N:
Okay, if any Barry Manilow fans are offend by any comments. Shame on you
why on Earth do you like Barry Manilow?!
Song lyrics are from 'I am the Walrus' by the Beatles.
And if you're curious the answer to the crossword is spatula
"I, mean, like this place is so full of freaks." Buffy said cheerfully as she chatted away on her cell. She had decided there is no power on this earth that will allow Cordelia ever to wear that oh so cute silk cherry red strappy top. She'd called Anya as soon as she got in the library. There hadn't been anyone in the room, well no one worth talking to.
"Anya, you are such a good friend, like, so much nicer than Cordy. I know, I know. She can be such a bitch sometimes." She dug her hand in her new Prada bag, a present from daddy for getting an A in the history test, apparently Paris Hilton had one just like it. Cordy had been so jealous. Buffy pulled out a stick of gum. "Mmm, uh-huh, totally, Scott is kinda a hotty." She flicked her blonde hair and blew a bubble as she listened to Anya. "Yeah, size six a whole size smaller than Cordy, no matter what she says!" She laughed in a world of her own, not caring whether she pissed off anyone else in the room.
Buffy Summers laughter floated across the room. Causing Willow to look up suddenly for a moment, a deer caught in the headlights look flitted across her features as she recognised some of people she was in detention with. No one that would want to associate themselves with her. The best thing to do was keep her head down and hope that no one would notice her.
Spike watched Buffy do the whole dumb, shallow, materialistic, blonde, high school prom queen, bitch thing. Was she completely unaware of the other people in the room? Possibly, or maybe she didn't care.
Why am I here? Spike wondered idly, it's not as if he cared. He should've stayed in bed till noon got up and watched 'Passions' with a bowl of captain crunch, then hooked up with some friends and have fun. Still he shouldn't dismiss the possibility of chaos today; most people in this room didn't know how to deal with Synder. Except maybe Donaldson. Spike hated Angel Donaldson. He thought he was so cool just 'cause he could catch a football. Spike shifted his attention to Donaldson, sending him a dirty look, what the hell did he do that he couldn't worm his way out of?
"Gee, this is gonna be fun." Xander said to Oz in a hushed tone. As he cautiously glanced at his fellow members of detention. Buffy Summers was sat on the library check out desk, talking on the phone. Angel Donaldson was sat in the row desks in front of him and Oz in seething silence. Spike Rayne was toying with an unlit cigarette in his hands, watching Angel carefully like how a cat watches a mouse before it strikes, claws and all. The geek had her head buried in a book.
"Could be worse." Oz muttered.
"How? Synder turns into a giant snake and eat us all?" Xander scoffed.
"That would be worse." Oz agreed. "Who's the red head?" He said indicating to Willow with a tilt of his head, his face as stoic as ever.
"No idea. I thought she was here for some maths club thing."
Principle Synder entered into the library holding a stack of papers in his hands. His lip curled up into a sneer as he glanced round the room with nothing but contempt for the students in front of him. He cleared his throat causing the class to look up, he addressed the students with such disrespect, and you can't but wonder how he ever got the job.
"Gotta go Anya, the troll is here." Buffy whispered pressing the disconnection button on her phone.
Spike's focus of hatred on Angel was broken by the appearance of Synder.
Angel, a twitch of anger in his face, waited, watching Synder.
Willow hurriedly shoved her book back in her brown rucksack before Synder could notice the book.
Xander fidgeted in his seat.
Oz just watched the situation unfold with a passive expression his face.
"Well, well. Here we are!" The glee clear in Synder's tone. "I want to congratulate you for being almost on time."
Buffy raised her perfectly manicured hand. She smiled sweetly at Synder. "Excuse me sir? I think there's been a mistake. I know its detention but..." She stuttered slightly as Synder watched her with disdain. Spike couldn't help but suppress a smile. The princess was about to piss off Synder. "Um... I don't think I belong here..." She trailed off.
Synder took a deep breath and continued talking; he didn't care what some brat had to say, in his mind all the students were vermin. "It is now seven- oh-six. You have exactly eight hours and fifty-four minutes. To ponder the errors of your ways." He glared around the room. Spike yawned loudly and looked bored putting his feet up on a spare chair. "And you may not talk. You will not move from these seats." Synder watched Spike carefully it was only a matter of time before he could kick that delinquent out of this school.
A twisted, sadistic smile graced his face making him seem even more rat like that possible as he stared at Spike. "And you..." Synder pulled the chair from under Spike's feet. "Will not sleep." Spike just rolled his eyes and yawned again.
"Alright people, we're gonna try something a little different today. We are going to write an essay – of no less than a thousand words – describing to me who you think you are. The entire class stared at Synder blankly.
"Is this a test?" Spike asked. Synder ignored him and passed out the pencils and paper among the students.
"And when I say essay... I mean essay. I do not mean one word repeated a thousand times. Is that clear Mr. Rayne?" He said glaring directly at Spike.
Spike looked up lazily at Synder. "Crystal" he drawled.
"Good. Maybe you'll learn a little about yourself." He addressed the students fully. "Maybe you'll even..." Synder paused for a moment. "... Decide whether or not you care to return. My office..." He points "... Is right down the hall. Any monkey business is ill-advised." He surveys the teens in front of him. "Any questions?"
A wicked grin slashed across Spike's face, "Yeah... I got a question." Synder glanced at him suspiciously. "Does Barry Manilow know you raided his wardrobe?"
That twisted, sadistic smile returned to Synder face with. "I'll give you the answer to that question, Mr. Rayne, next Saturday. Don't mess with fire young man, you'll get burned." With that Synder turned and left.
"That man is such a git." Spike snarled and kicked the chair in front him, it skid across the floor and settled in front of Buffy. Who stared at it as if it was an alien or something.
A silence fell on the room, Willow frantically scribbled her essay her pen flying across the page at the speed of light, if she finished the essay first maybe she could go home first. Buffy watched the nerd write; maybe she should get started on it. Buffy sighed heavily and pouted, she sat down in the desk next to Angel he was the best of a bad lot at least he had some cool points being a football player. Maybe she could turn this essay into a sort of prom queen manifesto, the communists had one why couldn't she? Showing the common people of SHS that she was the prom queen for them, she cared about the little people. As long they weren't freaks or social outcasts.
Angel looked at the blank page; everything about his life was blank. He was just a giant swirling vortex of nothingness. He couldn't write that down everyone would think he was some kind of a freak, a star quarterback cannot be a freak. He was a jock simple as that, not that smart but could score a scholarship, play in the college series, maybe even make the pros. Is that what he wanted? Angel knew that's what his father wanted.
"Who do I think I am?" Xander muttered, doodling on the piece of paper. "Who are you?" This question should be easy, he was Xander Harris, but who was Xander Harris? Well apart from him. He chewed thoughtfully on the pen. "Who are you?" He said again. Was he meant to make excuses for why he got into detention? Or explain his personality, can you explain your personality. God all this thinking was making him hungry, the only thing that could solve this problem was twinkies but Xander had been saving those for lunch. Xander frowned, he looked over at Oz who seemed to be staring into space, he half wonder what Oz was gonna write. "Hey Oz, who are you?" He said with perplexed look.
"I am the walrus." Oz said with certainty. Spike looked up at Oz with utter confusion. "They are the egg men." He told him making a small gesture towards the others. Spike grinned at him; everyone else was watching this exchange, not getting the joke.
"Goo goo goo joob." Spike said in agreement nodding his head and promptly started humming "I am the Walrus" by the Beatles loudly.
Spike grinned he had no intention of writing this dumb essay. Carefully and slowly he folded the piece of paper neatly until he had constructed a slick paper plane, the wing line up was perfect. He aimed with care so it was directly lined up with Buffy Summers head, Oz was watching him with a slight frown as if he disapproved. He threw the plane, the flight was smooth, and it would've hit on target if at that exact moment Buffy moved her head, it flew right pass and hit Angel Donaldson square in the head.
"Hey!" Angel turned violently, glaring at Spike.
"What?" Spike snapped back.
"Why the hell did you do that?" Angel said not taking his eyes of Spike. This guy was a complete asshole, always had been and always will.
"I wasn't aiming at you, jackass." Spike said putting his feet up on the desk and folding his arms across his chest.
"You were aiming at Buffy you little bastard. If I lose my temper you're totalled man!" Angel stood up knocking over the chair.
"Totally?" Spike hadn't moved a muscle.
"Totally!"
Buffy stared at the two guys facing off. She had to agree with Angel, Spike was a complete waste of space. She looked at Spike giving him her trade mark bitch look. "Why don't you just shut up! Nobody here is interested!"
"Really!" Angel said to Buffy about Spike. "Asshole!"
Spike moved in one fluid liquid motion, he was quite a bit shorter than Angel and had to look up to look him in the eye. "Well hey Sporto! What'd you do to get in here? Forget to wash your jock?" He said, with a quirk of his eyebrow extenuating the scar that ran straight threw it.
"Err..." Willow started nervously.
Oz focused his full attention on the red head, surprised she'd even spoke, this was the first time she had spoken, he was curious about what she would say.
"Uh, excuse me but should we be writing our essays? I don't want to... "She trailed off as Spike and Angel both glared at her. "Sorry." She whispered and went back to writing. Willow had known she should've spoken, certain people in this world should be seen and not heard, she was one of them. Tears sprung in her eyes and she tried to sniff quietly, hoping no one would notice.
"Look." Angel said trying in vain to remain calm and not punch him. "Just because you live here doesn't give you the right to be a pain in the ass..." Spike's expression had darkened, Angel look at him wearily. "So knock it off!" Mockingly Spike feigns a hurt expression and clutched his hand to his chest.
"It's a free country." Spike said with a shrug.
Buffy sighed, why did guys feel the need for all this macho bullshit? It was probably was some residual cave man gene, she touched Angels arm gently. "He's just doing it to get a raise out of you! Just ignore him." She said with her sweet little prom queen smile.
Spike smiled at Buffy, putting his hands in his leather duster's pockets and tilting his head ever so slightly losing all interest with Angel. "Luv, you couldn't ignore me if you tired!"
"Eww much!" Buffy said with a roll of her eyes. She turned her back on him and tired to concentrate on the essay in hand.
"So – so," Spike said smiling walking round the desk till he was in front of Buffy. "So are you guys like boyfriend/girlfriend?" He paused for a beat. "Steady dates?" His smile widened as Buffy started to look more and more uncomfortable. "Lovers?" Angel was starting to look pretty pissed off now. "Come on Sporto, level with me. Is she a good lay?" Buffy and Angel both looked at him furiously.
"That's it!" Buffy shrieked standing up, throwing her arms in the air. Spike grinned amused by the princess's actions. "You..." She pointed at Spike and screamed. "... Can go to HELL!"
**************************************************************************** *******
Synder is sat in his office, puzzling over the crossword in the Sunnydale Times. What began with S, with eight letters and is cooking implement? He sighed, why couldn't that library had turned up like he was meant to? He had far better things to than baby-sit a bunch of junior delinquents, he tapped his pen and frowned, these crosswords were getting harder. Down the hell way he could hear yelling, damn those children they were up to not good, probably fighting or dealing drugs.
"Hey!" Synder yells. "What's going on in there?" Silence falls again and he can return to his crossword. "Smug little pricks." He muttered to himself, shaking his head.
"I, mean, like this place is so full of freaks." Buffy said cheerfully as she chatted away on her cell. She had decided there is no power on this earth that will allow Cordelia ever to wear that oh so cute silk cherry red strappy top. She'd called Anya as soon as she got in the library. There hadn't been anyone in the room, well no one worth talking to.
"Anya, you are such a good friend, like, so much nicer than Cordy. I know, I know. She can be such a bitch sometimes." She dug her hand in her new Prada bag, a present from daddy for getting an A in the history test, apparently Paris Hilton had one just like it. Cordy had been so jealous. Buffy pulled out a stick of gum. "Mmm, uh-huh, totally, Scott is kinda a hotty." She flicked her blonde hair and blew a bubble as she listened to Anya. "Yeah, size six a whole size smaller than Cordy, no matter what she says!" She laughed in a world of her own, not caring whether she pissed off anyone else in the room.
Buffy Summers laughter floated across the room. Causing Willow to look up suddenly for a moment, a deer caught in the headlights look flitted across her features as she recognised some of people she was in detention with. No one that would want to associate themselves with her. The best thing to do was keep her head down and hope that no one would notice her.
Spike watched Buffy do the whole dumb, shallow, materialistic, blonde, high school prom queen, bitch thing. Was she completely unaware of the other people in the room? Possibly, or maybe she didn't care.
Why am I here? Spike wondered idly, it's not as if he cared. He should've stayed in bed till noon got up and watched 'Passions' with a bowl of captain crunch, then hooked up with some friends and have fun. Still he shouldn't dismiss the possibility of chaos today; most people in this room didn't know how to deal with Synder. Except maybe Donaldson. Spike hated Angel Donaldson. He thought he was so cool just 'cause he could catch a football. Spike shifted his attention to Donaldson, sending him a dirty look, what the hell did he do that he couldn't worm his way out of?
"Gee, this is gonna be fun." Xander said to Oz in a hushed tone. As he cautiously glanced at his fellow members of detention. Buffy Summers was sat on the library check out desk, talking on the phone. Angel Donaldson was sat in the row desks in front of him and Oz in seething silence. Spike Rayne was toying with an unlit cigarette in his hands, watching Angel carefully like how a cat watches a mouse before it strikes, claws and all. The geek had her head buried in a book.
"Could be worse." Oz muttered.
"How? Synder turns into a giant snake and eat us all?" Xander scoffed.
"That would be worse." Oz agreed. "Who's the red head?" He said indicating to Willow with a tilt of his head, his face as stoic as ever.
"No idea. I thought she was here for some maths club thing."
Principle Synder entered into the library holding a stack of papers in his hands. His lip curled up into a sneer as he glanced round the room with nothing but contempt for the students in front of him. He cleared his throat causing the class to look up, he addressed the students with such disrespect, and you can't but wonder how he ever got the job.
"Gotta go Anya, the troll is here." Buffy whispered pressing the disconnection button on her phone.
Spike's focus of hatred on Angel was broken by the appearance of Synder.
Angel, a twitch of anger in his face, waited, watching Synder.
Willow hurriedly shoved her book back in her brown rucksack before Synder could notice the book.
Xander fidgeted in his seat.
Oz just watched the situation unfold with a passive expression his face.
"Well, well. Here we are!" The glee clear in Synder's tone. "I want to congratulate you for being almost on time."
Buffy raised her perfectly manicured hand. She smiled sweetly at Synder. "Excuse me sir? I think there's been a mistake. I know its detention but..." She stuttered slightly as Synder watched her with disdain. Spike couldn't help but suppress a smile. The princess was about to piss off Synder. "Um... I don't think I belong here..." She trailed off.
Synder took a deep breath and continued talking; he didn't care what some brat had to say, in his mind all the students were vermin. "It is now seven- oh-six. You have exactly eight hours and fifty-four minutes. To ponder the errors of your ways." He glared around the room. Spike yawned loudly and looked bored putting his feet up on a spare chair. "And you may not talk. You will not move from these seats." Synder watched Spike carefully it was only a matter of time before he could kick that delinquent out of this school.
A twisted, sadistic smile graced his face making him seem even more rat like that possible as he stared at Spike. "And you..." Synder pulled the chair from under Spike's feet. "Will not sleep." Spike just rolled his eyes and yawned again.
"Alright people, we're gonna try something a little different today. We are going to write an essay – of no less than a thousand words – describing to me who you think you are. The entire class stared at Synder blankly.
"Is this a test?" Spike asked. Synder ignored him and passed out the pencils and paper among the students.
"And when I say essay... I mean essay. I do not mean one word repeated a thousand times. Is that clear Mr. Rayne?" He said glaring directly at Spike.
Spike looked up lazily at Synder. "Crystal" he drawled.
"Good. Maybe you'll learn a little about yourself." He addressed the students fully. "Maybe you'll even..." Synder paused for a moment. "... Decide whether or not you care to return. My office..." He points "... Is right down the hall. Any monkey business is ill-advised." He surveys the teens in front of him. "Any questions?"
A wicked grin slashed across Spike's face, "Yeah... I got a question." Synder glanced at him suspiciously. "Does Barry Manilow know you raided his wardrobe?"
That twisted, sadistic smile returned to Synder face with. "I'll give you the answer to that question, Mr. Rayne, next Saturday. Don't mess with fire young man, you'll get burned." With that Synder turned and left.
"That man is such a git." Spike snarled and kicked the chair in front him, it skid across the floor and settled in front of Buffy. Who stared at it as if it was an alien or something.
A silence fell on the room, Willow frantically scribbled her essay her pen flying across the page at the speed of light, if she finished the essay first maybe she could go home first. Buffy watched the nerd write; maybe she should get started on it. Buffy sighed heavily and pouted, she sat down in the desk next to Angel he was the best of a bad lot at least he had some cool points being a football player. Maybe she could turn this essay into a sort of prom queen manifesto, the communists had one why couldn't she? Showing the common people of SHS that she was the prom queen for them, she cared about the little people. As long they weren't freaks or social outcasts.
Angel looked at the blank page; everything about his life was blank. He was just a giant swirling vortex of nothingness. He couldn't write that down everyone would think he was some kind of a freak, a star quarterback cannot be a freak. He was a jock simple as that, not that smart but could score a scholarship, play in the college series, maybe even make the pros. Is that what he wanted? Angel knew that's what his father wanted.
"Who do I think I am?" Xander muttered, doodling on the piece of paper. "Who are you?" This question should be easy, he was Xander Harris, but who was Xander Harris? Well apart from him. He chewed thoughtfully on the pen. "Who are you?" He said again. Was he meant to make excuses for why he got into detention? Or explain his personality, can you explain your personality. God all this thinking was making him hungry, the only thing that could solve this problem was twinkies but Xander had been saving those for lunch. Xander frowned, he looked over at Oz who seemed to be staring into space, he half wonder what Oz was gonna write. "Hey Oz, who are you?" He said with perplexed look.
"I am the walrus." Oz said with certainty. Spike looked up at Oz with utter confusion. "They are the egg men." He told him making a small gesture towards the others. Spike grinned at him; everyone else was watching this exchange, not getting the joke.
"Goo goo goo joob." Spike said in agreement nodding his head and promptly started humming "I am the Walrus" by the Beatles loudly.
Spike grinned he had no intention of writing this dumb essay. Carefully and slowly he folded the piece of paper neatly until he had constructed a slick paper plane, the wing line up was perfect. He aimed with care so it was directly lined up with Buffy Summers head, Oz was watching him with a slight frown as if he disapproved. He threw the plane, the flight was smooth, and it would've hit on target if at that exact moment Buffy moved her head, it flew right pass and hit Angel Donaldson square in the head.
"Hey!" Angel turned violently, glaring at Spike.
"What?" Spike snapped back.
"Why the hell did you do that?" Angel said not taking his eyes of Spike. This guy was a complete asshole, always had been and always will.
"I wasn't aiming at you, jackass." Spike said putting his feet up on the desk and folding his arms across his chest.
"You were aiming at Buffy you little bastard. If I lose my temper you're totalled man!" Angel stood up knocking over the chair.
"Totally?" Spike hadn't moved a muscle.
"Totally!"
Buffy stared at the two guys facing off. She had to agree with Angel, Spike was a complete waste of space. She looked at Spike giving him her trade mark bitch look. "Why don't you just shut up! Nobody here is interested!"
"Really!" Angel said to Buffy about Spike. "Asshole!"
Spike moved in one fluid liquid motion, he was quite a bit shorter than Angel and had to look up to look him in the eye. "Well hey Sporto! What'd you do to get in here? Forget to wash your jock?" He said, with a quirk of his eyebrow extenuating the scar that ran straight threw it.
"Err..." Willow started nervously.
Oz focused his full attention on the red head, surprised she'd even spoke, this was the first time she had spoken, he was curious about what she would say.
"Uh, excuse me but should we be writing our essays? I don't want to... "She trailed off as Spike and Angel both glared at her. "Sorry." She whispered and went back to writing. Willow had known she should've spoken, certain people in this world should be seen and not heard, she was one of them. Tears sprung in her eyes and she tried to sniff quietly, hoping no one would notice.
"Look." Angel said trying in vain to remain calm and not punch him. "Just because you live here doesn't give you the right to be a pain in the ass..." Spike's expression had darkened, Angel look at him wearily. "So knock it off!" Mockingly Spike feigns a hurt expression and clutched his hand to his chest.
"It's a free country." Spike said with a shrug.
Buffy sighed, why did guys feel the need for all this macho bullshit? It was probably was some residual cave man gene, she touched Angels arm gently. "He's just doing it to get a raise out of you! Just ignore him." She said with her sweet little prom queen smile.
Spike smiled at Buffy, putting his hands in his leather duster's pockets and tilting his head ever so slightly losing all interest with Angel. "Luv, you couldn't ignore me if you tired!"
"Eww much!" Buffy said with a roll of her eyes. She turned her back on him and tired to concentrate on the essay in hand.
"So – so," Spike said smiling walking round the desk till he was in front of Buffy. "So are you guys like boyfriend/girlfriend?" He paused for a beat. "Steady dates?" His smile widened as Buffy started to look more and more uncomfortable. "Lovers?" Angel was starting to look pretty pissed off now. "Come on Sporto, level with me. Is she a good lay?" Buffy and Angel both looked at him furiously.
"That's it!" Buffy shrieked standing up, throwing her arms in the air. Spike grinned amused by the princess's actions. "You..." She pointed at Spike and screamed. "... Can go to HELL!"
**************************************************************************** *******
Synder is sat in his office, puzzling over the crossword in the Sunnydale Times. What began with S, with eight letters and is cooking implement? He sighed, why couldn't that library had turned up like he was meant to? He had far better things to than baby-sit a bunch of junior delinquents, he tapped his pen and frowned, these crosswords were getting harder. Down the hell way he could hear yelling, damn those children they were up to not good, probably fighting or dealing drugs.
"Hey!" Synder yells. "What's going on in there?" Silence falls again and he can return to his crossword. "Smug little pricks." He muttered to himself, shaking his head.