A/N: Yet more credit to my absolutely gorgeous betas, Ezekeiel Rage and Ultrawoman who have okayed this chapter regardless of your opinions. Let's trust their judgement, shall we? I've interspersed this William/Dawn chapter with flashbacks of a Spike/Buffy nature from the Thanksgiving just passed. Oh yeah, keep an eye out in the future for an Angel fic I plan to run that coincides with this, much like the actual series.
Disclaimer: Save the baby harp seals! If they become extinct, who shall we club to death? There's only a finite number of Mormons out there...
XXX
First days and thanksgivings
William was in shock. He really was. All of the stories he'd heard from his friends had prepared him from some kind of evil Mecca, as Xander had put it. He'd gone expecting to be attacked in the first five minutes, inundated with loathsome work within ten and ready to contemplate suicide within fifteen. After an afternoon with Xander, Buffy and Dawn's tutelage he was expecting, at the very least, a minor hell dimension. He really wasn't expecting something so...
Mundane. A large number of people around his age (possibly) walking, in groups and alone, into a big stone building like they did every day (presumedly. It's not like he had anything to base that on though). Tugging at his uncomfortably new denim jacket (which both Buffy and Dawn had insisted he needed, much to Rupert's distress. Apparently, William had already cost him quite a bit of money and now he was beginning to feel guilty about it) he followed Dawn as she marched him towards the headmaster's office.
He trailed behind his friend as she pointed out the major sights, cafeteria, library, courtyard. One thing that struck him was how little he was noticed. Bar a few people who stared at him disinterestedly, he was ignored. It was strangely reassuring, almost familiar.
William also found the whole experience fascinating; hundreds of young adults who supposedly hated school who turned up, day after day, and spent as much time as they could with friends. The concept seemed so very foreign, although he wasn't sure why. He didn't remember much post-spell – only vague shadows and imprints of memory, dull stars in the vast emptiness of space.
So caught up was he in his thoughts (William now suspected he was something of a poet. He'd have to look into that) he didn't notice that Dawn had halted suddenly, bumping into her and sending the poor girl sprawling to the floor.
Amidst gales of laughter (which he seemed to instinctively ignore), William helped a red-faced Dawn to her feet. William's face felt rather hot as well.
"I'm dreadfully sorry, Dawn. I- I didn't notice you'd stopped, and you know how clumsy I can get. Are you okay?" he asked worriedly, holding her hand and helping her to her feet.
"Have a nice trip, Dawnie?" a brunette girl brayed, one of the first and loudest to laugh and Dawn's fall. Dawn's eyes rolled sarcastically.
"Oh yeah, that's original Janice. What's next? Pull my finger?"
The other girl, Janice, narrowed her eyes at Dawn dangerously as a few people, who had stopped to watch the altercation, laughed at Dawn's rejoinder. Then her eyes found their way to William, raking his lean form.
"Hi, I'm Janice," the girl said as she extended a hand and flashed a bright, artificial smile at William.
"Charmed," William said with a brief smile, before turning back to Dawn. "Are you sure you're all right, Dawn?"
"I'm fine," Dawn declared, leading William off towards the principal's office once more, only stopping to flash a malevolent look at Janice who still stood dumbstruck that anyone would pick little Dawnie Summers over her.
XXX
"Hey mom, can we help?" Buffy had asked cheerfully upon noticing her mother defrosting the turkey.
Only Giles had been in a position to see the brief look of fear and panic that crossed Joyce's features before a cheery, "Sure, honey."
"We?" Spike asked, part bemused, part horrified, part disbelieving. Buffy merely nodded firmly.
"Yes, Spike, we."
Giles watched in amusement as the mixed expressions on the vampire's face melted away, leaving one: outraged disbelief.
"I don't bloody well think so, Slayer."
"Why not?" Buffy demanded, hands on hips. Spike rolled his eyes.
"I don't cook."
"Tonight you do," the Slayer declared somewhat smugly. Spike stood over Buffy, eyes flashing dangerously.
"I. Don't. Bloody. Cook." he pronounced slowly. Buffy straightened, an almost evil smirk on her face.
"You do if you ever want to get into my pants."
Giles nearly choked on the tea he was drinking, coughing loudly. In between his coughing fit, he dimly heard Joyce's horrified "Buffy!" as well as Dawn's exaggerated retching. After some frantic glasses cleaning, Giles looked at a now mortified Buffy. Her eyes were wide and her face bright red as she looked around at her family.
"Did I say that out loud? Please tell me I did not just say that out loud." Spike merely grinned at her mischievously.
"Cooking get you all hot 'n bothered, Slayer?" he asked with one raised eyebrow. Buffy sank onto one of the stools in the kitchen and buried her face in her hands.
"Kill me now"
XXX
"We like to create a student friendly environment here, William," the headmaster told him as he circled the chair the young Englishman sat in. He had spent the entire half hour of the interview so far watching this slightly deranged man walk around the room in erratic circles making odd hand gestures and answering his own questions.
"What classes did you take in England?" the principal asked. William opened his mouth to answer, only to have the very odd man continue on, "Yes, yes, of course. I'll have to have someone show you around to all your classes to-- what was that?"
William turned to look where the principal was looking in fear. There was nothing but a filing cabinet and a potted plant there. William turned a worried look to the principal; several of the tales of the Scoobies 'glory days' sprang to mind.
"Tch. Cheese turnips, the lot of them." The man's lower right eyelid was twitching madly. William leaned back in his chair a little. "So I'll just have my secretary go and get one of the students and they'll show you where everything is."
"Actually, sir, I do have one request, if it's not too much trouble..."
XXX
"What the bloody hell is this?"
"Uhh, that's grated ginger."
"And why do we have grated ginger?"
"Because it's in the recipe."
"Recipe? For cranberry sauce? Doesn't that sodding stuff come in cans?"
XXX
Dawn had shown William around for the first half of the day, and he felt indebted to her. She had informed him of several things that he didn't know or didn't remember that couldn't be passed off as being British, but she'd had an assigned class to catch up on some of the work she'd missed in the last couple of weeks and so William was left all on his own for lunch.
He sat in the back of the cafeteria, pouring over one of his new textbooks. The material was really quite interesting. So engrossed was he in his reading, not to mention his general state of obliviousness, that he had no idea that he was currently central to a large portion of the school's rumours.
It was only a matter of time before one of them decided that the gossip was better from the horses mouth, and the brave person who was risking life and limb (strangely literal in a town like Sunnydale) by talking to the new kid was Janice herself.
"Hi again," she said as she sat opposite of William. Not hearing her, his nose stayed in the book. A brief look of irritation flashed across the girl's features before she tried again. "Hey!"
William looked up, startled by the loud sound, and smiled apologetically. "Oh, hello. I'm awfully sorry about that, I was just really caught up in this book."
"Not a problem," she assured him with a warm smile. "I'm Janice, by the way."
"Oh! I'm terribly sorry. I don't know where my manners are today. I'm William Giles," the young man said, kissing the hand that had been extended for a handshake. Janice gave him an artfully pretty giggle, which he seemed to miss completely.
"You like poetry?" Janice asked after a slightly awkward moment, noticing the book he was reading was the poetry anthology from English class.
"Yes. It's emotion expressed in its most beautiful form. The English language made into art." There was another pause, this one less awkward than the last.
"Can I ask you a personal question?" Janice asked suddenly. William nodded his agreement. "Are you Dawn's boyfriend?"
William looked at Janice oddly. Well, he wasn't certain but he was fairly sure they were friends and he'd been under the impression that he was obviously a boy. What an odd question, he thought.
"I'd like to think so," he told her after a little consideration. After all, if he were mistaken it would be irresponsible of him as well as inconsiderate to tell people they were friends. Janice stared at him in shock.
"Why? I mean, you're a cute boy but she's not that attractive-"
"I hardly think," William said stiffly, his voice taken a far more wooden tone, "that physical appearance plays any real part in what is between Dawn and I."
He gathered his books from the table and looked disapprovingly at the dumbstruck girl.
"For your information, I happen to think Dawn is an exceptionally beautiful person."
XXX
"I'm thankful for having such wonderful people to help me fit in," William said hesitantly. He paused for a second then, "Was that right?" Everyone at the table nodded softly, and William sagged in relief.
"I'm thankful that everyone is healthy and well," Giles said with a thinly veiled look at Joyce. She returned his gaze with a calm one of her own. The silence did not stretch out long.
"I'm thankful that I have Tara, and all of you guys, and for school, and for there being no major badness to mess this holiday up, and even for what looks like a cure for rat Amy, so Yay me," Willow finished with a grin.
"I'm thankful for what she said. Except the Amy part. I didn't get that," Tara said with a soft smile at her lover.
"I'm thankful for the Constitution," Anya informed everyone. After a pause she added, "And my Xander, of course."
"I'm thankful for Anya, my fiancé," Xander said into a general noise of approval. After the congratulations died down, the thanksgiving continued.
"I'm thankful that I have both my daughters, and that they have such loving, loyal friends," Joyce said after a moment, smiling warmly at the assembled youths.
"Well, I'm thankful that I don't have a hell goddess after me this year," Dawn inserted with a wry grin.
"I'm thankful for... a lot of things really," Buffy said. "I'm thankful that my mom's healthy again. I'm thankful that Glory is gone. I'm thankful that all of you guys are okay. I'm thankful that there isn't anything major yet. I'm thankful that I'm with Spike and I'm thankful that you're all okay with that. I'm thankful that we're all here tonight."
"Me?" Spike asked when everyone stared at him. He shrugged a single shoulder. "I'm just thankful I'm not tied to a bloody chair this time."
XXX
Thirty four corpses lay around the arcane circle, candles burning with a lacklustre glow at the head and feet of each. A man stood in the centre of the circle, drawing complex symbols in the air. His greasy hair, unshaven and scarred face, one blind eye and rumpled, dirty clothes stood in sharp contrast to the immaculately clean, black robed figures standing in between each of the corpses. The man in the centre of the circle began to chant in a harsh, guttural language.
"Imget Hukt kopiy chetch jumehk quwd s'lek"
The robed figures each drew out a sharp, wickedly curved knife, slicing an intricate pattern to contrast the man's words and motions. The hiss of parted air made an oddly musical counterpoint to the clipped sounds coming from the centre of the circle.
The man in the middle of the room grew louder, his motions flailing wildly. As the crescendo reached it's peak, the robed figures arced their knives downwards, into their chests. Blood exploded towards the central figure, hitting an unseen barrier before the man himself.
As the blood swirled rapidly around the chanting man, a bleach blond figure in the shadows smiled sinisterly.
"Not long now."
XXX
A/N: I'm not sure how that chapter comes off. I wrote the flashback sequences at a different time than the school sequences and I wrote the final scene at yet another time. I have no clue how well they mesh together. Still, things will pick up soon. I can't handle things going well for my Scoobies. Something always has to go wrong. Oh yeah, please remember people: William is almost ye olde English, thus his use of the word headmaster instead of principal. This one's aimed at you, Ultra. Oh yeah. REVIEW!
