Well, at least that hideous class was improving, she thought as she took her seat next to Willow in the front row, and noticed the new guy. She knew she had never seen him before around campus, or she would have remembered. And the fact that he was obviously from out of town added interest to him, because it made him potentially normal.
After Riley her social life had been terrible, and decreasing. Which was not necessarily a bad thing, considering that half of Sunnydale's population was some kind of demonic being or another, half of them attracted to the mystic energy of the Hellmouth, and the other half attracted by the prospect of killing her. Riley hadn't been all that bad come to think about it, if one thought of Angel as a parameter. At least Riley had not nailed a puppy anywhere.
She should be paying more attention to class, but she really didn't like History, and Mr. Pierson didn't really like her. Not that one could blame him. If sleeping her way through his classes had not been enough, her joke about decapitating him surely hadn't made a good impression. He would probably flunk her anyway, so she might as well make some good use of the wasted time.
The new guy looked really good. About their same age, with blond hair and blue eyes, and quite hot in a black sweater and black coat. The leather coat tipped her on the fact that he was obviously not living at the dorms. That meant it would be harder to casually bump into him, but it also was good because she would keep her privacy. She had to stop thinking about that when Willow's elbow unexpectedly hit her in the ribs.
"Snoozer, do you agree with your friend?" Mr. Pierson asked, apparently out of nowhere, but when she turned her attention to him she realized he had been talking with Willow about something and was now asking her, Snoozer, to comment on it.
"Ah, yeah, sure..." she stammered, aware that she had no idea of what they had been talking about. Fortunately he did not seem to care for further elaboration, but simply grinned and turned to question some other student. He was obviously just making a point.
Snoozer. That's a nickname, she thought as she went back to ignoring the lecture. Buffy Snoozer Summers, had a nice ring to it. Then it came to her that he had just called her that in front of the whole class, and pretty embarrassed she turned to look at the new guy, who had a wide smile on his face as he looked back at her. Well done, Snoozer, she congratulated herself.
--o--
They had been talking for an hour, give or take, and despite their terrible start he had actually managed to connect with her after the initial uneasiness had passed. They had never really talked all that much, and he had even resented her a little when she started seeing Will, but now that he needed to talk she had been the first person he had thought of.
Of course he couldn't have gone to Willow, it would have been way too eerie, and he didn't know anyone else in town who could possibly understand how he felt right now. Still, the first thing he had thought of when he had awakened that morning in Spike's arms was that he needed to tell someone and try and make some sense of the way he was feeling. And, miraculously, that person had been Tara.
"So how did it feel when you kissed him? Did it feel right?" she asked at last, when they were already heading back to the building they had originally come from.
It had taken him longer than he would have thought to explain things, specially when the person he had kissed was no other than Spike. At first he had tried to avoid mentioning his name, but then he had realized it was impossible to explain what was happening to him unless he trusted Tara with that information. After all, he had not fallen for some guy at the Bronze. It was Spike.
Spike, who had lived with him for a while, heard all of his sorrows over and over again, and had recently surprised him with the depth and quantity of sorrows and regrets he himself had. It would have never happened if they had not shared what they had shared, and it was impossible to explain anything without telling the whole story.
So he had trusted Tara, after forcing her to swear over and over again to keep everything to herself. He had told her pretty much the way things were, at least the way they were for him, and he had felt a terrible relief to see she was actually listening and even understanding him.
"Yeah, I mean, I was fully aware that it was Spike, but it just felt so right. That's the word. Terrifyingly right. And I don't know what could have happened if he didn't stop me, I mean..." he couldn't really continue; he was talking with a girl, and a girl he hadn't even called friend until this morning.
"I know, it may get scary" she reassured him "Do you honestly trust Spike?" she asked, trying to avoid sounding judgmental although obviously concerned
"Yeah, I mean, I fell asleep cuddling with a vampire! If that's not trust then what the hell is it!" he snapped, instantly regretting to be so loud when he realized they were already entering the building. Luckily nobody seemed to have heard.
--o--
Snoozer. Didn't sound as bad as some nicknames he had given people in 5000 years of life. Besides, it had been the first thing that had come into mind when he had been in the verge of calling her Slayer. She was pretty annoying, not to mention ignorant, and the only comfort he could find in the situation was that she didn't find him all that interesting either. That was good, because been in the spotlight is never good when a it comes to a paranoid slayer. And all slayers are more or less paranoid.
He left the classroom the last, as usual, and couldn't help but grin as he saw the young immortal breaking the ice with the slayer and her friend. Well, he should have expected that much. The kid couldn't help himself when he was around pretty girls, and he had quite the looks too, so the girls did hardly ever complain. When the kid looked up at him as he passed them by, he simply nodded in acknowledgment, and left him to his games. He didn't have anything to say to the kid anyway, so why spoil his fun.
He was on his way to the library, where he had agreed to meet Rupert, when before his eyes appeared Xander and the slayer's other friend, walking at a slow pace as they talked in whispers. When the boy saw him he smiled, and headed towards him.
"Hi, Adam!" he called out with a smile "You go here?" he asked good-naturedly
"One could say so" he smiled at the understatement "I take it you got home in one piece last night..."
"Yeah, thanks for holding my head by the way..." he blushed, casting a brief glance at the girl with him, obviously not comfortable with the way he had been the night before
"No problem Xander, I trust you would have done the same for me..." he assured him. He really wanted to ask about things with Spike, since he knew there was something there, but the time didn't seem pertinent.
"You know Tara?" the boy tried to change the subject, as if he had known what was on his mind
"I've seen her around, yes, she's a friend of some of my students, right?" he asked her, to which she nodded shyly
"What? You teach here?" Xander asked incredulous
"Yeah, European History" he grinned "Just don't go around saying I'm a nice guy or I'll lose the little respect these kids have for me" he said jokingly "I've got to run, I have some things to do before my next class" he said as a goodbye "I'll see you around, Xander"
Just when had he become so sociable?, he thought as he left the two kids behind and headed for the library, amazed at how easily a two-hundred years custom could be discarded. Loneliness did hardly look like an option anymore.
--o--
"So you finally got what you wanted, right?" Joe asked amusedly as he drank his coffee "Tell me, Rupert, what is it like to be a slayer's watcher?"
"It's not what I expected, you know old friend..." he replied "I've grown attached to her, and it hurts to know that she –and her friends- may get killed any time"
They had been cheerfully talking for little less than an hour, and he had been very happy that Joe still remembered him fondly after so many years; he thought of Joe in the same way, and had been very excited when he had gotten word from him telling of his upcoming visit to Sunnydale. It had been a wonderful surprise to see the other watcher coming into his library that morning...
"I know. You and I, we were never the kind of guys that followed rules, uh Rupert?" Joe sighed "You let the slayer's friends get involved, grew fond of them, now you live worrying about each of them constantly... You know, the immortal I watch has become one of my best friends... so much for keeping a healthy distance myself. Every time he or one of his circle of friends gets challenged I find myself sitting on the edge of my chair until it's over..."
"I know the feeling... everything was quite easier back at the academy, when you only had to sit there, and read the things that long-dead watchers had written, hoping one day you would be one of them..." he said, but couldn't finish the sentence because the door was opened.
"Joe! You're here already! I can't believe it" a joyful Adam all but shouted as he entered the library and held the other man in a tight grip "I thought you said at noon..." he added as he released Joe
"Well, I had originally thought of stopping by to say hello to my old friend Rupert before I met you, since you both work in the same place... you know each other, right?" the bearded man asked
"Sure, how are you doing Rup?" Adam asked politely, and also more than a little curious "How did you two come to know each other?"
"Oh, it's a long story..." he replied, trying to say as little as possible "We went to the university together, and we formed this rock n' roll band... I didn't imagine you were Joe's friend in town" he had to admit
"He's a fellow watcher" Joe explained, but Adam did not seem much pleased about that
"Was" he hurried to correct his friend, showing a tattoo-free wrist to make his point
"Yeah well, you may think about getting it done again Adam, because I have a nice job for you..."
--o--
"You have got to be kidding!" Methos exclaimed indignant as they left the library, having agreed to meet Rupert at his place for dinner at six o'clock.
"Come on, Adam, it's a good deed... what's a new protegee for someone five thousand years old?" he insisted "After that nasty mass accident the kid cannot really show up in Seacouver again, not in a hundred years at least... and since his watcher died there -along with some other fifty people- I thought it might be a good idea to assign you as his watcher. That way you can keep an eye on him without having anyone getting suspicious about you"
"Joe, you're missing the fact that I don't want to be Richie's guardian angel!" the ancient one complained "I don't even know the kid all that much!"
"I know, but Mac cares a lot about him, and it was his idea in the first place that you watched over him for a while. Did he not tell you about it?"
"No!" the immortal said annoyed "One day I'm a bastard because I rode with the horseman, and now I have to watch over his socially dead student? Forget about it, Joe!"
"You don't have to baby-sit him, Adam!" he kept pushing, having come completely prepared for a display such as this "Just be there if he needs you..."
He was going to insist some more, but then he noticed Richie was only a few feet away from them, cheerfully chatting with a couple of teenager girls. It shouldn't have surprised him that Methos hurried his steps towards the group and, with a dry and commanding voice, addressed the boy;
"You, Dawson. Office, now" he demanded, and then started walking towards his office barely waiting for Joe to follow, or for the kid to even react.
He wasn't either shocked nor angry, because he knew how Methos loved his freedom and detachment from the immortal world, and he had known he wasn't going to be big on this idea. But he had promised Mac to try, he reminded himself as he followed the oldest immortal into his office. Shortly thereafter Richie came in as well, closing the door behind his back.
"You know, there was really no need to embarrass me like that Adam!" he complained as he dropped his notebook on top of the other immortal's desk and let himself drop on a chair "This is not my idea of a fun vacation either! C'mon, Adam, you know how Mac is... he wanted me to go to collage, I said no, then I got in that damn car crash and suddenly I'm here"
"You have a sword?" was all Adam said in reply, to which the blond nodded, pulling a broadsword from his coat "Oh, what the fuck..." the older immortal conceded, sighing in resignation "Just call me Mr. Pierson if there's other people, and try not to die, permanently"
--o--
She had positively enjoyed the European History class. Mr. Pierson, despite his youth and his usual lateness, had lived up to her expectations. She had decided to take European History because she was fascinated by history, and it would eventually allow her to be more helpful to Giles when they were researching. However, she wasn't precisely satisfied with the way Buffy was handling the class.
She had insisted that Buffy didn't have to follow her around forever, and she could chose what classes she wanted to take, because she had suspected her friend would not be very interested in History. And of course, she had been showing how uninterested she was in the class from day one, making Mr. Pierson notice the both of them way too much for her to feel comfortable.
That day, however, Buffy had proved interested. Not about the class, but rather about the new student. As soon as Mr. Pierson had dismissed the class Buffy had forced her to go welcome the new guy, whom she insisted must be from out of town. The newbie, a boy with strawberry blond hair and blue eyes, clad in a black leather coat, had looked friendly and well predisposed when they had gone to greet him.
They had talked for a while, introducing themselves and offering help in anything possible, from schoolwork to Sunnydale tours. Richie Dawson was the guy's name, and he had just moved to California with his uncle Joe. He was very extrovert and friendly enough, and she liked him instantly –not the way Buffy liked him, of course. They were actually planning to meet at the Bronze that night when suddenly Mr. Pierson came walking towards them, followed by an older man with a cane.
"You, Dawson. Office, now" had been all his words before he walked right pass them and into his office, the other man right behind him.
"That would be uncle Joe getting me to meet the teachers..." he said jokingly "Well, I'll see you girls later... maybe Bronze, after dinner?" he said as a goodbye, barely waiting for the to reply as he hurried towards Mr. Pierson's office, closing the door behind him as he entered.
"Gee, I can live without that kind of help!" Buffy exclaimed as they walked away, referring to the way Mr. Pierson had seemed less than enthusiastic about meeting the new student.
--o--
He had no idea what the hell he was going to do now. Of course, he had known things could not go back to be the way they had been before. For better or for worse. Lying in bed, with Xander asleep in his arms, his mind had been racing with hypothesis of how their relationship would evolve –or survive- from there on. He hadn't been able to sleep for most of the night, and when he had finally fallen asleep it had been exclusively out of exhaustion.
It had felt so good to hold Xander as he slept, to feel him breathing against his own chest; that warm body that relaxed fearlessly under the cold grip of his dead arms like no other had before. He wanted Xander. He had wanted him before, of course, but now that he had had a taste of what it could be, he couldn't stop thinking about him. The way he had looked into his eyes before he had kissed him, the way the boy's warm lips had caressed his, the way Xander's strong body had felt against his own...
But on top of all that, more important than anything, was the fear. Xander had been gone when he had awaken. What did that mean? He knew what it meant, but he didn't want to think of that. It had been a mistake. Xander was his best friend, his only friend in the world; he had had people he had called friends before, but nobody had ever been his friend quite in this way. And now they wouldn't be friends anymore, and all thanks to alcohol and his weakness. He could have pulled away, could have gone back to the couch, but he had wanted it so badly...
He didn't know what to do. He wanted to wait here, wait until Xander returned, but he feared the boy's reaction. He didn't know what his friend had been feeling that morning, when he had left the bed quietly and gone out. Confusion? Anger? Disgust? Disappointment? So many emotions which he was not used to deal with... Drusilla had never doubted what she wanted, even if it was an atrocity; she hadn't been angry or disgusted when her Sire had taken her by force; and she had only been disappointed in him, because there had come a point when he hadn't been able to keep up.
He wished he could go back to be the way he was. Before he had come to Sunnydale, he had been happy with Drusilla. At least what he called happy until then. He had grown tired of Angelus and his mind games, his way of forcing him into things he really did not want to do, the way he hurt him and raped him when he didn't want to give in to his games. But then with Drusilla, alone in the world, everything had been so simple.
Dru took what she wanted, and it had been so easy for him to adapt to that. He had lived decades bringing suffering and death, without even caring, and he had found such a release in that... and all it had taken to change was a bunch of teenagers and a stupid chip in his head. By the time the initiative had taken him he had already started changing, started questioning himself, starting doubting the ways he had called his own.
Seeing them had done that to him. Seeing the way they protected each other, cared for each other, comforted each other when things went wrong. He had wanted that. And he had finally found it, hadn't he? With Xander. Xander had forgiven him for all the things he had done to them, at least for what mattered. Xander had told him his secrets, his concerns, and had even been willing to hear his own. And how he had paid him back for that? He had taken advantage of his drunkenness.
It didn't matter how many times he reminded himself of the fact that it had been Xander the one who had started it, and he had stopped him before it went any further. It was all the same. It was his fault, because that's what he did. He was Spike, the vampire. He had killed, maimed, tortured, brought chaos. And now he was doing just that, bringing chaos, proving he was unworthy.
And he had been unworthy for Angelus as well, too soft for the older vampire. He had tried to please him, and all he had gotten was mockery and punishment. In the beginning, when Angelus told him he was a weak and useless waste of blood, he had cried. They had all made fun of him, they had all enjoyed torturing him to bring some sense into him. In the end, he had learnt to project it... all the pain and all the humiliation that was caused to him, he would bring upon others, random people he found on the streets.
He laughed. He would like to see Xander assimilating that one. Just one more proof of how unworthy he was of the boy's care, and how unworthy he had ever been of his kind's respect. Stuck between two worlds he was, and he was no good to either one of them.
--o--
Well, at least the rest of his day had not been all that bad. Most the students had paid mild attention to his lectures, and after MacLeod's surprise gift he had not felt much in the mood to interrogate them so badly. He was very happy that Joe was in town, and with the prospect of staying for a while –to make sure Richie adapted to the place. On the other hand, the kid's arrival had been like a kick in the balls.
He had nothing against the young immortal –all the contrary. He had felt attracted to the bastard since very much the first time he had seen him, and he had had to make a real effort not to act on it. Mac would have surely taken his head without a second thought if he had dared to insinuate anything indecent to the kid, not to mention make a move on him. He would still take his head now, probably.
The real issue was not even that, for he was very good at disappearing if Mac indeed claimed his head; the problem was, the kid was obviously not so inclined. For the time he had known him, he had seen Richie Ryan do very little other than ride his bike and chase skirts. And even more of the late. And now, having him under his tutelage? That would be like a hideous reminder of one of the few things Methos had never had, and could never have.
But for now, he would relax and take things easy. He was new in town, and there were surely plenty women and men whom he could cherish and enjoy –mind and body. He didn't need this half-raised kid to ruin his perfect runaway adventure, and he wouldn't let this minor unexpected inconvenience to stop him from relishing his stay at Sunnydale.
By the time he got to Rupert's house –late, for a change- Joe was already there, with Richie. Well, that was expected, since he was supposedly his nephew, but he wouldn't let this bother him. He loved Joe, whom he considered his only true friend after Don's death, and he liked Rupert well enough not to coward away because of a blond babe.
"Well, I had told Rupert to put dinner off for another hour..." Joe exclaimed cheerfully as he entered the librarian's house "It's a miracle you show up this early!"
"Anything for you, Joe" he grinned as he removed his coat and carefully placed it over a small end-table. He had enough sense not to carry a sword into the slayer's watcher's home, but he had brought a gun and a smaller blade, and he didn't want Rupert to find them. As an old survivor, he couldn't feel comfortable if unarmed.
"Have a seat, Adam" their host offered, bringing about a bottle of Scotch "Would you care for a drink before dinner?"
"Always" he answered appreciatively as the man poured him a drink and delivered the glass "I am afraid I have nothing non-alcoholic that you may be interested in..." the librarian told Richie apologetically, which seemed ironic to Methos since the kid was already 22 in age, if not in appearance.
"Here kid" he told the blonde teasingly, offering him some pocket change "Go buy yourself a soda..." to which the other immortal replied with a grin, taking the offered money;
"Thanks Adam, I don't want a soda but I could use a pack of cigarettes"
"Since when do you smoke?" he asked amusedly
"I've always smoked..." the kid instantly answered as he grabbed his coat
"I've never seen you smoke..." he insisted
"Well, I'm a smoker" Richie concluded, reminding him of a funny sketch the kid had probably seen as well.
"Okay, George, suit yourself..." he told the kid as he was leaving the room, which caused the blonde to smile in response before he went out.
"You were acquainted with Joe's nephew?" the librarian asked casually as he poured the gathered men another drink
"We don't really know each other" he replied offhandedly "But I've been roaming around Joe for a while, so I've seen the kid before..." he concluded, avoiding to mention just how much he had seen the kid, and what parts he had been looking at.
--o--
As he looked up the stairs where Cordelia had disappeared a while ago, he couldn't help but overhear a little through-the-door conversation between her and Angel. The souled vampire had been avoiding them for weeks, locking himself in his bedroom for most of the time, only agreeing to come down for dinner, and not without a daily session of inverse psychology masterly carried out by Cordy. When they asked what was wrong, he said 'nothing'.
As the older of the group, however, he knew something was disturbing Angel. A lot of things could be said about the vampire, and broody was certainly the first thing that came to mind when one tried to define his character, but he was not usually one to leave his friends unattended, working all by themselves. Putting themselves on harm's way. There was definitely something going on in Angel's mind, and whatever it was it could be no good.
As for Cordelia, that was a delicate matter all on itself. She was in a very complicated stage of her life; after her family had lost all of their money, she had moved to Los Angeles to try her luck as an actress, and had ended up becoming an assistant to an undead detective, connected to the visions from the Powers That Be as the only tangible memory of one whom she had loved and hadn't had the chance to tell him how she had felt.
Now, for several months, she had been stuck in a strange and absorbing relationship with the undead detective himself, carrying all of the responsibilities of a wife and enjoying not even the minimal fraction of what a first date gets. She fetched him blood, forced him out of his bedroom when he was particularly broody, insisted that he looked on the matter if she had a vision which she thought the rest of them couldn't handle alone, and even sat for hours with him, talking nonsense so he would temporarily take his mind off the brooding.
In the beginning Angel had been attentive and caring, but in the last couple of weeks he had secluded himself so completely that not even Cordelia had been able to break through his barriers. Emotional and physical, if one counted the massive door he kept almost continuously locked against the world. He had even suggested to contact fellow ex-watcher Rupert Giles, back in Sunnydale, but Cordelia had begged him not to get the slayer involved, and he had given in without a fight.
"Where are Fred and Gunn?" Cordelia asked him as she came back down, triumphal, with Angel on her arm
"They went to the movies, abusing of the fact that you haven't had a vision in days..." he replied, his mind elsewhere. He barely acknowledged Angel as he uttered a dead-like "Hello Wes" before going into the kitchen for his blood mug. Something was not right, and no sooner he found out what it was he would call Giles.
--o--
"...and then I thought he had been in Bangladesh, because I heard secondhand that a very old immortal had been decapitated by an unknown immortal with awesome fighting skills, and when I got there it turned out that the other guy was Sergey Schaterbatsky, a very well recorded immortal whose watcher had been drunk at the time of the challenge, thus failing to fill his report..." Methos explained matter-of-factly, trying to please Rupert, who had not been able to conceal his excitement after he had learnt that Adam Pierson had been the head Methos researcher for many years.
It still amazed him, after a long time knowing Adam and quite a while knowing he was actually Methos, how much the Old Guy could pull off out of nowhere, either to protect his identity or his life, or just simply for the sake of a good evening's entertainment. With the oldest immortal it was always a difficult task to know whether he was telling the truth, or an invention he had manufactured along the way.
"And by the time you left the watchers, had you discovered anything about Methos?" Giles hungrily asked, obviously thrilled to the bone at the thought of a 5000 years man walking amongst them
"Nothing more than old tales and vague mentions by other immortals" the man himself replied, with an amazingly believable expression of disappointment "Either he is very elusive, or he is indeed no more than a legend..." he concluded, standing up to help himself to another glass of Scotch.
The talk about Methos had been going on for a while, and it was really getting hard for him to keep serious, specially since the old man's fictitious stories about his research had already surpassed the formal lies he had told at the watchers, and he was now coming up with freshly invented anecdotes, which flowed easily out of his mouth as Giles grew more and more interested.
He cast a glance at Richie, and was not surprised to see that the young immortal was laughing through Methos' stories, obviously amused himself, as he smoked a cigarette. However, by the time the ancient's storytelling came to a halt the kid stood up.
"Joe, I have to go somewhere..." he explained as he grabbed his coat "I'll see you back at the hotel, okay"
He did not have to say he was not crazy about the boy going around alone in a foreign town, specially since MacLeod had specifically requested that he should not be left alone until they were certain the town was free of belligerent immortals.
"Maybe Adam can give you a ride..." he suggested, trying not to be too obvious when asking Methos to watch him
"Oh, bloody hell!" the Old Guy exclaimed sarcastically "I don't want to be stuck all night playing Driving Miss Daisy!" he complained
"Talk about Miss Daisy..." Richie replied, putting on his coat "I'm not the one who has been telling stories all night about a boring old immortal"
"At least I'll still have my head in the morning, which is more than I can grant you..." the oldest immortal said under his breath as he grabbed his own coat "And don't you think you're gonna smoke in my car!" he added quite loudly, finishing his drink with an annoyed look on his face
Giles had obviously not heard a thing of Methos' first sentence, but he had had a hard time trying not to laugh out at it. Then he had laughed alongside with the librarian at the second part, and luckily the two immortals left right away, after thanking Rupert for dinner, fighting with each other all the way out like two teenagers, rather than one teenager and one 5000 year-old.
Now, he would have some time to catch up on his friend's recent life events, which he had avoided out of politeness in the presence of the other two. There were actually a few things he wanted to ask Rupert.