A/N: Okay this chapter has taken awhile coming, but I got this weird rash on my hand and totally freaked out, turns out its prickly heat. Who'd known you could get a prickly heat in England! Then the boiler packed in, so no hot water; it's just been a hell of a week. Song lyrics from The Kidney Thieves – Before I'm dead. As always read and review!

Buffy sat, pretending to be writing the essay, pen poised just above the paper a thoughtful yet cute expression on her face, it's not as if she didn't have the entire day to finish this. In reality, Buffy was trying to see what Spike was doing without him realising. For the bad boy of Sunnydale High he wasn't doing much. His feet were propped up on the desk and he was blowing smoking rings, watching them slowly dissipate and float up towards the tiled ceiling, he looked really bored, she could so relate. Buffy turned back to her desk and chewed her pen, not many guys would stand up to Synder it was either the bravest or the stupidest thing Buffy had ever seen.

None of the guys Buffy ever dated would ever consider doing something like that. She wasn't a different guy every week kinda gal like Cordy or Anya, Cordy was always on the arm of the sports star of the week and Anya, Buffy had lost count on the number of guys she had dated this year. Buffy was never keen on sport champs or the handsome egotists Anya favoured. There had been Owen, who had been sweet and mysterious plus Cordy hadn't been able to get her claws in him and was totally embarrassed at the bronze. But in the end Owen had been a tad too repressed for her and it hadn't lasted. Now there was serious chemistry between her and Scott Hope but it wasn't exactly explosions. Buffy often wondered if she expected too much of guys, but is a little romance that hard to create? There had to be more to relationships than groping in a car at make-out point or hanging at the Bronze.

Buffy risked another glance in Spike direction. The bleach blonde hair was kinda 80's and his overall style was complete skater punk, which was sort of in fashion. The dressed all black thing was far too high on the goth scale for her, but that leather duster just embodied cool and really suited him. Buffy wasn't keen on the skull ring he wore on his right hand; she'd noticed it during the rowing between him and Synder, it had a macabre grin and was creeping her out, only a tiny bit though. Buffy also noted the adorable pout that crossed his features as he cast an empty stare at the blank paper.

For a moment Buffy indulged herself in little fantasy:

She was at the Bronze, Saturday night all on her own, Cordy and Anya were double dating with two guys from the swimming squad. She swayed to the rhythm of the music, let herself just let go and dance, not care what the crowds surrounding her thought, it was a librating feeling. Dress in that cherry red silk top with low cut faded jeans and killer heels, her blonde hair loose and flowing with the beat of the music as she danced, she was the hottest girl in the Bronze. Girls looked her and envied her, boys saw her and wanted her.

Scott Hope asked her to dance, but Buffy refused, he wasn't the guy Buffy was looking for. Scott wandered away from the dance floor, disappointment clearly etched on his face. Other guys, some she knew but most she didn't all tired to get her to dance and failed.

The tempo of the music switched, it pulsed and throbbed like a living thing, the smooth seductive words of the lyrics drowned out the mindless small talk of the mass of teens that surrounded her.

"Moon hangs around
a blade over my head
reminds me
what to do before I'm dead
night consumes light
and all I dread
reminds me what to do before I'm dead..."

She could feel someone watching her, a secret smile graced her red glossy lips, and slowly she gyrated her hips showing off to her audience, the jeans showing off her tiny waist. Buffy flung her head back, her golden hair rippling in the strobe lighting. She had never felt this sexy before.

"Epochs fly, reminds me
what I hide, reminds me
the desert skies
cracks the spies
reminds me what I never tried
the ocean wide salted red
reminds me what to do before I'm..."

A cool voice whispered in her ear that sent delicious shivers down her spine, liquid fire burning in her stomach and was currently moving further down. His voice was husky and practically oozed sex appeal.

"You wanna dance, Luv?" He asked, his lips brushing against her ear lobe.

Strong muscular arms wrapped round her waist; Buffy let herself support herself against his chest as they swayed in rhythm to the beat. His lips brushed delicately against her throat, right above the pulse point, and one hand trailing a lazy pattern across her thigh the other still tightly embracing her waist. Part of her wanted to turn round and see the expression on his face but this was kinda good as well. The hot, wet kisses being planted hungrily on her neck was driving Buffy crazy, his hand moved higher, sliding under the silk top. The rustle of silk seemed deafening in their ears, his palm was warm next to her bare skin. It was as if every time he touched her a jolt of electricity went straight through her body.

"Turn round." He whispered.

Unable to refuse Buffy stared up into his ice blue eyes, blazing with lust. Buffy slide her tongue along her moist lips seductively, Spike watched with fascination, he tilted her head up towards capturing her ruby red lips. He tasted like chocolate and cigarettes. Her lips pressed against his in a bruising kiss, his hand running through her hair. The kiss was like a battle neither one of them relinquishing control but neither willing to break the intensity of the kiss...

"What the fuck are you staring at?" Spike snarled he was now sat up straight, watching her with a cruel look on his face.

"Huh?" Buffy said, snapping out of her daydream, she had been staring at Spike like some lovesick pre-teen.

She had doodled a swirl pattern all over her paper, okay this was embarrassing, she was so not have warm fuzzy feelings about Spike Rayne. Imagine what Cordy and Anya would think, they would like freak out. They were from two very different worlds... Kinda like Romeo and Juliet, Buffy shook her head, think these things was just wrong.

Xander watched the clock on the wall tick; it seemed to be ticking slower and slower every time he looked at it. Xander stared at his Tweety-Pie wristwatch; his watch was running twenty minutes fast, typical. He tapped on the glass front, he was sure the time had been right. He tapped Oz's shoulder; Oz removed the headphones and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Do you have a watch?" Xander asked.

Oz raised his wrist, no watch.

"Oh, I can't work out whether my watch is wrong or if the that..." He pointed at the library clock. "Clock is twenty minutes slow."

Oz shrugged.

"You think the school is trying to screwing us outta twenty minutes?" Xander frowned, there was a lot he could have done with twenty spare minutes, like read the new Hellboy comic or watch half an episode of 'Firefly'.

"It's plausible." Oz told him.

"I wouldn't put it past Synder." Xander agreed.

Synder sat in his office, it was paint that beige colour you always see in hospitals with a battle ship grey carpet, no personal photos adorned the desk. The only thing that wasn't work on the desk was a rather sickly looking plant, in desperate need of water. It was nearly quarter to twelve, in forty-five minutes it would be feeding time at the zoo. Synder drummed his fingers on the desk, the sound echoing round him. The crossword puzzle lay abandoned on the desk, half-complete. (And with three wrong answers.) Rupert Giles should have arrived already; the fact he wasn't here really pissed Synder off, probably thought he was too good to deal with SHS maggots. Synder sat alone in his box of an office and quietly festered with undiluted rage.

Buffy stole a sneaky gaze a Spike, his feet were back to being propped up on the desk and was picking at a loose piece of rubber, half attached to the sole of his boot. He pulled the piece of rubber off and peered at it with bored disinterest before throwing it over his shoulder. Willow looked up with surprise as the piece of rubber flew past her head. Spike turned and gave her roguish grin, making Willow blush and stare back down at the desk, as if she'd just done something wrong. Spike's grin widened at Willow reaction. Spike had shrugged off his duster revealing and black Ramones tee shirt over a long sleeved black top; the sleeves were a little too long. For the first time Buffy realised Spike was wearing black nail varnish, it looked chipped. Spike had extracted a crumpled box of matches from the dusters' pockets and lit one. He watched intently as the thin piece of wood burned and sizzled till it finally blinked out. Buffy dragged her attention back to the essay Synder was making them write. Who in this room would care what she said?

Buffy frowned, she would never hang out with any of these people.

Angel was a jock and as a rule Buffy found them arrogant and self-obsessed (Some football players could give Cordy a run for her money.) she tired not to date or associate with athletes. Jocks got a free ride in school; they could get away with anything as long as their team was winning. Buffy knew that some teachers would fix jocks' grades, which was very unfair.

Oz was in a band; the band was kinda cool and sometimes played at the Bronze. That was the extent of Buffy's knowledge on Daniel 'Oz' Osborne. Cordy had once dated Devon (The lead singer in the band) but he'd been total flake, so Cordy ditched him. She had never once mentioned Oz. That wasn't unusual for Cordelia Chase, who was convinced the world revolved around her.

Buffy knew even less about Willow Rosenberg. Buffy had a vague memory of Harmony (Who was a total sheep.) walking into the red head sometime last week, sneering something nasty about Willow's dress sense before stalking off haughtily with Buffy. Willow hadn't done anything to Harmony, and okay she didn't exactly have style but with a little help Willow could be stunning, Buffy thought.

Xander was the class fool. Him and his dumb friends were often targets for the jocks' malice and practical jokes. They never did anything wrong, but that's high school for you. Buffy never actually joined in with her friends bitchy comments but she never actually stopped them from dishing out some serious humiliation. What could she do?