It had been at least a week since the "car incident," and Buffy was feeling quite well as she walked into her English class. Looking around for an empty seat in the back row, she spotted an open one way in the far corner of the room and started to walk up the stairs when a familiar hand grabbed her shoulder.
"You don't get away that easy," Angel said, turning her around. She looked into his eyes and smiled like a little schoolgirl.
It's gotta be the eyes, she told herself, trying to convince not only herself but everyone around her that she was not falling for her professor. Chocolate eyes, too. Chocolate does that to you every now and then--
"Take a seat in the front row," he said before heading back to his desk.
Buffy had never been this close up to a teacher; it was kind of sad in a way. She loved being out of the limelight and in her own little world.
Yeah, such fun to pretend, she sarcastically thought to herself as she took a seat and rummaged through her backpack. It seemed to her that it was more safe in a classroom to be a spectator that's what she had been doing her whole life and there wasn't anything about to stop her, now.
Class started sooner or later, leaving Buffy in her daily ritual. Notes, check out Angel when he's not looking, notes, fantasize about Angel when he's not looking, notes…It was a humble existence for her; one that she spent less time with notes and more with watching Angel.
It wasn't like she was alone; but at least she wasn't overtly into him. Buffy saw the other girls seemingly desperate in her class, the way they threw themselves at Angel's feet. She loved the way he denied them everything but allowed her something, however small that something had been. Cordelia, much to Buffy's dismay, was granted that same access.
Angel always destroyed the students who tried to prove him wrong. Buffy found herself occasionally shutting her mouth, actually taking Angel's advice and thinking clearly before she spoke. It had proven to keep her alive in the classroom setting and for that, she was grateful.
"Thanks for the input, Riley," Angel said, walking over to his desk and snapping Buffy out of her thoughts. "But it looks like we'll have to cut this short." Rummaging through his desk, he found a stack of papers. Waving it in the air, he asked the class, "anyone feel like passing the last essay out?"
Every single female hand went up except for Buffy. She crossed her hands over her chest and glared at the board, trying to get away from the other Angel fanatics.
Angel glanced in Buffy's direction and tried to hide a smirk. She looked up at him and raised her eyebrows, curious to see who he would pick. He walked over to the right section of the room and looked at Cordelia after locking eyes with Buffy once more.
He's just trying to humor me, Buffy told herself, trying to keep her jealousy tone down. Only humor.
Everyone else's hands went down in defeat as Cordelia 'sweetly' accepted the offer.
What a menial existence.
Hmm...you're one to talk.
Buffy shook her head. OK, self to alter-self conversations ending...now.
After a while, Cordelia walked up to Buffy's desk and skillfully managed to deposit her essay on the desk, making it slide down to the floor.
"Oops," she said with a shrug. A few of her friends giggled in the background. With a groan, Buffy picked it up and flipped through it.
Her eyes widened in pleasant surprise. Angel was definitely different from most of the teachers she had. Instead of just reading through the essay and giving her a grade, he circled phrases and gave his input, commenting on various thoughts Buffy had written about.
"Take a look at OUTFOXED the documentary if you haven't, already"
"Same here…"
"Look around, most people suck but there's a good handful that don't…"
Everywhere was red.
"Too rushed; try explaining in more depth"
"I agree"
Red ink perfectly worded on her paper, making her feel that somehow, this was right.
"Good thinking…I never thought of it that way"
Everything about Angel was right.
"We should talk one day"
Buffy looked up at her professor, currently hunched over his desk reading. With a slight smile, she gathered her things and approached him.
"So I was right!" Xander exclaimed. "You are obsessed with Professor Angelus!"
Buffy rolled her eyes with a smile, taking a bite out of her croissant. The pair was sitting at their infamous spot, an outdoor restaurant table connected to the college. "Why can't you just call him Angel?"
"Never," he swore, drinking some orange juice. "That man is a pain. I swear, I'd take classes in law just to beat his sorry ass in arguments "
"I don't believe it!" Buffy laughed. "What is with the male species and getting Angel to contradict himself?"
Xander swallowed his pizza slice and pointed a finger at her. "It's all about power, Buffster. When this guy is being swooned by every other woman available including my best friend, I tend to get a little insecure." He smirked. "Especially when one of my best friends happens to be obsessed with him "
"Xand, I am so not obsessed," she laughed. "True, I watch…a lot. And I stare…most of the time..."
"And you think of every excuse to see him!"
"It's over a simple paper," she said slyly, remembering what happened between her and Angel after class. "I mean, all I did was see if he was available to talk about my paper after class--"
"Over coffee!"
"Just about school, Xander! It's not like I'm going to jump him in public."
Xander threw his backpack over his shoulder. "Riiight. Just be careful, OK?"
Buffy sighed, standing up. "I try to be."
"He just seems unstable to me," Xander tried to explain.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know," he muttered. "Just a guy vibe or something."
"I trust your instincts, Xand," Buffy said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "But I also trust mine. Okay?" She waved goodbye and walked in the opposite direction.
Xander watched her leave, a sad expression on his face. "Keep telling yourself that, Buffy."
After an uneventful lecture in her United States History class, Buffy wandered off to the main hall for information. Not surprised, the only people in the reference officce were two adults one older than her and another possibly younger. She glanced at them curiously before walking up to the registry, mentally noting the man's awesomely bright peroxide hair. He seemed to be comforting the other girl, a brunette who looked oddly distressed.
"Yeah?"
A voice snapped Buffy out of her thoughts. She looked behind the counter and saw an impatient woman
Acting like a brat who doesn't really like her job, but…
glaring at her.
"Uh, hi," Buffy said. She glanced at the girl's name-tag. "Um…Anya. I'm Buffy Summers. I had asked for late assistance in finding a dorm room over summer?"
"We don't do late assignments," she answered casually. Buffy couldn't help but smirk. Anya wasn't exactly rude; her tone was just…blunt and truthful.
"I had asked before," Buffy countered. "They told me to check back within a week or two." Exasperated, she asked, "could you at least check the list?"
Anya cocked her head to the side. "What did you say your name was, again?"
Buffy groaned. It's going to be a long day…
As Anya went behind a computer to look up her information, Buffy decided to take a seat across from the odd pair. The two didn't even seem to feel her presence, so wrapped up in their own problems. Buffy grabbed a magazine off of a nearby rack but couldn't help but overhear their conversation.
"What can we do, Spike?" the girl whispered brokenly. It was hard for Buffy not to eavesdrop.
A little listening never hurt anyone.
"We'll do what we can, pet," he answered, stroking her cheek and just as quiet. "It'll just be during school, and after that…I'm yours."
The girl smiled at this. Buffy tried to pretend like she was reading, but she couldn't help but gazing up every so often at the duo.
"And plus," he continued, a little louder this time. "Angel will understand. I've covered for him plenty of times before."
…Angel?
Buffy turned a page in her magazine.
"He'll watch out for us. I'm his bloody responsibility, remember?"
The two smiled. Bohemians in love, Buffy thought to herself, an ironic thought contradicting the hardcore black clothing they wore. How sweet. Wonder what Angel has to do with any of this...
"Hey blondie," Anya spoke up, causing both the man and Buffy to look up. "Your stuff is ready." Buffy walked up at the same time the man did, leaving her confused. Both of them stopped in their tracks, looking at the other's hair.
"I'm natural," she said with a smile, joking around.
He stared at her for a moment before smirking. "I suppose she's got me on that one, then." He sat back down and continued to cuddle with the woman.
"You've got room 328," Anya answered, throwing Buffy a key. She caught it with great reflexes and shoved it in her pocket.
"Uh…where is that?"
Anya gave her a map. "Have fun."
Buffy sighed and turned around, only to be stopped by a deep female voice.
"Need help finding it?"
Turning around, she looked at the girl who spoke with grateful eyes. "Yeah…that would be great."
"I live right across the hall from you," she answered, walking up to Buffy with a confidence she had only seen in herself. "I'm Faith."
"Buffy."
They shook hands, and Faith introduced Buffy to Spike. "Nice meeting you, love," he answered before looking back at Faith. "I'll meet you in the ditz' class around an hour from now?"
"Always," Faith smiled, kissing him lightly. "He'll be gone?"
"Yeah, meeting his latest teenybopper crush for some 'talk'," Spike answered, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Buffy coughed voluntarily, grinning sheepishly at them.
"I'm afraid I'd be latest teenybopper crush.
