The Gypsy 13: judgment calls

"Hello Mr. Giles this is Ms. McClay…." Tara was had wondered if she would hear from William's father now she had her answer. "Yes I did speak with him yesterday, it's customary that I make contacted with new students….yes I have his file here and it does have his history…no he didn't say anything to me yesterday but his body language was very tense and when I asked him if he was eating and sleeping alright he acted suspicious till I explained they were symptoms of culture shock…I think you're right I don't think he's suffering from culture shock…Yes I know it's difficult. I'm glad you called. I might suggest that you stay in contact with William's teachers and I'll keep an eye out as well…Yes he seemed like a very nice boy. Thank you for calling Mr. Giles don't hesitate to call in the future. Yes, yes have a nice day." Tara hung up the phone and made a few notes. She'd go around after school let out and see if she could get William's Teacher's thoughts.

……………………..

Spike made a few marks on his paper, then looked in the mirror on his table and erased everything he had. He brushed the eraser shavings off the paper and taped his pencil on the table.

"William remember it doesn't have to be a masterpiece you just have to put something on the paper." Mr. Loren looked over Spike's shoulder at his slow coming self portrait. Spike nodded and kept focused on his paper. Mr. Loren moved on to other students and Spike was left alone with the mirror. He studied his face, the scar on his left eyebrow, his defined cheekbones, and his white hair that stuck out in all directions.

"Are you looking for something in there?" Spike jumped. The dark haired girl had slunk up beside him and was now peering in the same propped up mirror.

"What?" Spike looked back at her in the mirror.

"It's like your soul is hiding. But I see it in there." The girl Spike looked back at had an unreadable smile on her face; Spike found it a little unnerving but more intriguing. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The girl stepped back. "You aren't from around here are you?" Spike raised his eye brow and cocked his head at the girl's strange reaction.

"I knew it, I knew from over there just by looking at you, that you weren't from here." The girl seemed pleased with herself and that left Spike a tad bit confused but the bell rang and it was the end of class. Spike picked up his stuff and left he looked back over his shoulder at the girl as he stepped out the doorway. She was a bit of a nutter, he might want to steer clear of her, but then again at least she was paying him some attention.

………………….

Buffy sat next to Willow and in front of Xander in English class. She and Xander were discussing what exactly had been served at lunch that day because it seemed to be unrecognizable. Willow was grinning happily and nodding at whatever the other two were saying.

"Hi Spike." Willow turned her bright smile William as he made his way down the row of desks back behind Xander. "Elo." Was all he said as he past them.

Buffy and Xander's conversation was cut off as Mr. Price started the class telling everyone to take out their homework. The class became noisy with the sound of shuffling papers and some resounding groans.

"Come now it won't kill you, poetry is fun. Can anyone tell me what a Poem is?" Mr. Price sat on the corner of his desk at the front of the classroom and pointed to Willow as her hand shot up "Yes Ms. Rosenberg is it?"

"A poem is a verbal composition designed to convey experiences, ideas, or emotions in a vivid and imaginative way, characterized by the use of language chosen for its sound and suggestive power and by the use of literary techniques such as meter, metaphor, and rhyme." Willow smiled at the teacher.

"Yes, thank you Ms. Rosenberg that was quite a description. Those are the things that make up a poem. The other part of a poem of course is what the poem meant to the poet and what does it mean to you." Buffy tried to concentrate but poetry wasn't her favorite form of literature that is if she had a favorite form poetry wasn't it. Mr. Price went on to lecture about early epic poems like Beowulf which were used as entertainment and teaching tools of the day. Buffy wasn't really make much attempt to take notes she was pretty much just making squiggles on her paper and just generally glaring in the direction of Angel who was sitting in the desk a couple rows over. She was hoping to burn holes through him with her eyes, but no such luck. Why did he even have to be in her class? The sad truth about Angel Williams was he wasn't supposed to be in her class, he wasn't supposed to be in her grade! He had been left back twice in middle school, not because he needed to be held back but so when he got to high school he be bigger than the other kids his in his grade and could pretty much rule the football team. Stupid Quarterback.

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Spike's stomach when Mr. Price announced that he wanted the class to share their poems. The majority of the class had the same feeling and they muttered their complaints. It was only the second day of class and they had to read allowed. This was not looking good; at least there were only 30 min. till school was over. They went down the rows each student saying which poem they had selected, reading a line from it, and saying why they picked it. Spike watched the clock tic as each student spoke. They just weren't taking long enough not even Buffy's big mouth, Shakespeare and b.s. took up enough time and Xander was done a way too soon.

"Mr. Giles would you share your selections with the class please?" Spike's shoulder's tensed as he straightened in his seat, the room was too quiet and his voice didn't want to come.

"Hhuumm." He got off to a rough start that was only more strained as Buffy and the other students turned to look at him. "I picked Oscar Wilde's The Grave of Keats. Uuummm "Rid of the world's injustice, and his pain, He rests at last beneath God's veil of blue" what I liked about the poem was …" But he didn't have the change to finish his thought before the bell rang and the rest of the class jumped up.

"Alright Class, please leave your assignments on my desk as you leave, there's no homework for tomorrow." Mr. Price dismissed the class.

Willow dropped her paper off at the front of the class and held her books up to her chest. "That was a very interesting class Mr. Price."

"Thank you Ms. Rosenberg…" Mr. Price started to talk to at length on the subject but was distracted. "OH Mr. Giles could I have a word with you a moment?" Spike stop at the desk as Buffy grabbed Willow's arm and dragged her out of the class room still making doe eyes at the older man.

"Mr. Giles are you by chances related to the Mr. Giles who has taken over the librarian position at Sunnydale University?" Mr. Price was sitting on the edge of his desk again.

"Umm yes."

"Very good, I met him a couple of weeks ago at the Library while doing some research, very nice man. How are you finding Sunnydale? It's not England that's for certain, I move here myself, oh goodness, it must be six years now, from Oxford." Mr. Price noticed that he was rambling and also noticed William's eyes drifting towards the door. "Well I don't want to keep you; I just wanted to let you know that if you ever wanted to talk…oh and I like Wilde too, what about The Grave of Keats made you pick that particular poem?" Spike was backing up towards the door.

"I well, the imagery I guess." Spike answered cryptically before sliding out the door and down the hall.

"The imagery?" Mr. Price pondered as he picked up the stack of papers the student's had left on his desk and began to sort through them. This was definitely going to be an interesting year and he would have a long discussion all about it later that afternoon with the counselor Ms. McClay. It was indeed going to be an interesting year.

To be continued...

Just so you know this is a Spike/Buffy fic. Not a Spike/Dru one. And Angel is the bad guy in this fic, I don't always write Angel as the bad guy I just thought he fit the part this time. Thanks for reading and reviewing and all your support. M J