Chapter Four

A/N: 'Car Crash Red' I regret to inform you is not a nail polish colour. The quote used by Spike, comes from the god like movie director Quentin Tarantino's film 'Pulp Fiction'

Synder stalked back into the library were the vermin were currently swarming like hungry locusts in a field of corn ready to inflict a famine on surrounding towns. Synder always thought in biblical scales when it came to the destruction caused by the brats of SHS, one day it'll probably end up raining frogs. Or in the best case scenario it'll rain fire and brimstone then the students will burn, in shrieking agony as if doused in napalm.

Many a time, Synder had sat in his office, wasting time by amusing himself with all the possible horrific methods he could imagine his students dying; he was getting quite good at it now.

That bloody librarian Rupert Giles had supposed to be here to deal with Saturday detention. Every Friday afternoon the staff at SHS drew straws in the staff room, to see who had to forfeit their Saturday to watch over the week's delinquents. Rupert Giles had called him this morning say he could make till later this afternoon. Synder's weekend was ruined and he was gonna make sure that every single student in this detention would also have the worse weekend in their short lives. They'd remember this day forever, he would sure of it. He aimed a hard kick at an innocent trash-can to vent his frustrations, it hit the wall leaving a dark scuff-mark before bouncing back and hitting Synder squarely on the toe.

"Shit!" Synder screamed his voice echoing down the hall towards the library.

Xander jerked awake as the sound of Synder's scream cut through the quiet of school on a Saturday, he blinked wearily and looked around. Spike, who obviously heard the angry shot as well, was sneaking back to the desk directly behind him and Oz. Absentmindedly Xander wiped the drool off his chin, he stretched and yawned loudly. Oz was drumming his finger in time to a track Xander couldn't quite hear; all he could make out was the muffled hum you hear from all Walkman's.

Xander good naturally nudged Oz and motioned to turn off the Walkman, "Synder's coming." Xander muttered. Oz nodded turning off the machine returning the tense silence of a room full of strangers.

Buffy painted the third and final coat of Car Crash Red onto her perfectly manicured nails; she gently blew across them and admired her handy work. They would've looked better if she'd had her nails done by Isabelle at The Pink Passion nail salon in the mall, Isabelle was a genius when it came to nails. Ask her what the square root of thirty-seven was and Isabelle would stare at you blankly, but ask her to do emergency repair and she could work miracles. Cordy, Harmony and Anya were probably having pedicures there right now, catching up on gossip and make plans to party tonight.

Synder stormed into the library trying to look as imposing as possible, with a slight limp. Making an effort to glare at each and everyone of the snivelling children that sat dazed in front of him.

Spike sat up from his slumped position, cleared his throat and quoted in a clear loud voice. "Hey, here comes the gimp!" Finishing with a sardonic grin.

A scattered snickering ran through the teens, Synder's face darkened to a purple colour and his eyes bugged out. This was not a good sigh, Spike reckoned.

"That is it!" Synder roared. "I have had it up to here with you!" He said gesturing his hands wildly. "Stand up Rayne!"

Everyone stared at Spike as he stood up, deliberately slowly and put his hands in the pockets of his leather duster.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, huh?" Synder snarled. "Are you trying to mess with me?"

Spike looked down at Synder, which is a novelty seen as Spike, himself, wasn't exactly that tall. His face looked less purple but now had kinda a bluish tint which made him looked like a really pissed off smuf. The temptation to laugh was huge, Spike chewed the inside of his lip and tried not to smirk as Synder raged on.

"Twenty years I've been a teacher and you Rayne are the worst student I have ever had the misfortune to teach! You're a mockery to the whole teaching profession!" Spittle flew from Synder's lips, Buffy took a moment to consider how gross that actual was and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

Spike was watching her out of the corner of his eye as Synder took a moment to catch a breath before he continued his manic rant. Buffy smiled at him shyly, and Spike rolled his eyes and shrugged nonchalantly. Synder's eyes narrowed as he watched Spike roll his eyes blatantly ignoring him and something snapped.

"What was that?" Synder said, his eye twitching slightly with anger.

"Nothing." Spike muttered.

"That's it you, buster, have just earned another Saturday in detention."

"Oh bloody hell!" Spike swore.

"That's another Saturday detention, is there anything else you feel the need to add?" Synder sneered.

"I can't be a mockery to the teaching profession." Spike said shortly. "I'd have to be a teacher, does that make you a mockery of the teaching profession?"

"You just bought another one, Rayne."

"I'm free next Saturday as well, but beyond that I'd have to check my calendar." Spike yelled back, his cheeks flushed red with a burning hatred from the idiot principle that stood before him.

"Good 'cause it's pretty much gonna be filled with detentions till the end of the school year!" Synder had figured the kid would have cracked by know. Rayne's fists were balled up tightly. "You want another one? Think you're a tough guy Rayne? Huh?" Synder asked. "Just say the word Rayne and instead of going to prison you'll becoming here." Synder paused Rayne was now staring at his boots with great interest. "You done?"

"No." Spike said with a spark of defiance in his pale blue eyes.

"I'm doing society a favour, after all." Synder said with false concern.

"So?" Spike snapped back.

"That's another detention." Synder said with a wide smile. "I've got you for the rest of you natural born life if you don't watch you step, mister!"

"You are nothing but a sad little troll, I bet you had no friends in high school." Spike said staring down at Synder.

Buffy glanced at Spike trying to catch his eye. This was stupid; Spike was going to end up in detention forever. Buffy caught herself again. Why should she care that Spike Rayne wanted to mess up his life? His life wasn't even a blimp on her radar. But still nobody should be forced to go through this torture every Saturday Buffy told herself. If she was in this kinda situation she'd want somebody to stop her from going to far, do as you would like others to do unto you right?

"That's another two, Rayne you had enough?"

"How many is that?" Spike asked.

"Spike, stop this." Buffy found herself, in her own utter surprise, saying this out loud. Spike directed vicious glare at her making Buffy flinched under the intensity of his look.

"How many was that?" Spike said again slightly louder, his voice sounding a tiny bit strangled.

"Seven." Willow squeaked "Including when we first came in and you asked if Mr. Synder whether Barry Manilow was aware that Mr. Synder had raided his wardrobe." Willow finished abruptly and stared round the room wildly. Oz tried to catch her eye, but her cheeks pink with embarrassment and as she watched the scarred wooden desk intently.

"You! Shut up!" Synder yelled pointing his finger at Willow. Who was now on the brink of tears, chewing her lip frantically and wringing her hands.

Willow had never been soon scared in her entire life, not even when Bobby Winters put a huge slimy frog in her hair when she was six. Oz, the guy with blue hair, was watching her with visible concern she could see him out of the corner of her eye. It was nice to know that somebody was on her side for a change. The smallest shyest smile curved Willow's lips, Oz thought it was absolutely adorable. The moment was broke by a vile laugh that burst from Synder's lips.

"You are mine, Rayne, for the next two months you will suffer every single Saturday, even if I have to make sure I do it my self." Synder growled.

"What can I say? I'm thrilled!" Spike sneered; the look of arrogance masked his face again.

"Oh, I'm sure that's exactly what you want these people to believe." Synder studied Spike, took in his spiky bleached blonde, the dressed in all black look, he'd seen hundreds of students like Spike during his career and the all ended up the same. They were nothing but a bunch of wasters and criminals. "You know something, Rayne? You ought to spend a little more time trying to do something worth while with yourself and a little less time trying to impress people. You might not end up as another criminal low life." Synder cast her ferocious gaze around the rest of the group and addressed them fully. "Alright, that's it! I'm going to be right outside those doors." Synder turned to leave. "The next time I hafta come in here...I'm cracking skulls!"

Synder stalked off through the double doors, slamming them shut, as if creating a chance to direct them all towards another sentence in Saturday detention with the false illusion of freedom. Leaving the students sat in a stunned silence. Spike now stood shaking with silent rage.

Buffy watched Spike glare angry at the door; there was that pang of guilt again like before. Buffy shook off that feeling of guilt again; she wasn't suppose to care about stuff like this, she told herself.

"Well fuck you!" Spike screamed at the door.

"You started it Rayne." Angel said bluntly, looking up.

Spike spun on his heel. Angel had this nasty 'serves you right' smile plaster across his smug face. There was an almost overwhelming urge to punch Angel over and over again in the face till it was bruised and bloody.

"Leave it Angel." Buffy snapped. "Just write the stupid essay and we can get outta here!"

Angel couldn't believe Buffy was siding with that, god even the thought of it was unfathomable, that loser was ridiculous. He hunkered over the desk and stared at the blank page, ignoring the rest of his peers.

Spike dawdled, scuffing his boots on the floor, as he went to his seat on the back row. He leaned back on the chair, propping his feet up on the desk and lighted a cigarette. He inhaled deeply and tried not to think 'bout the two months of detention ahead of him or how much of what Synder had said really hurt.

"Fuck the essay." Spike said blowing stream of smoke from the cigarette, daring anyone to disagree with him.

"I agree with her." Oz said quietly. Spike and Xander both stared at Oz, Oz was the master of stoicism and this was certainly not stoic.

"Wow, that was an opinion man!" Xander said, with a hint of surprise in his tone.

"It's been known." Oz said with a careless shrug turning his MP3 back on and tuned out from the conversation but not before send Willow an hesitated look, which was reward with another of her adorable smiles. I knew this day would be interesting Oz thought idly, maybe even fun.