Ahem. Next chapter.

Thank you to Neilie and BeautifulFaith for reviewing.

"Ommm," I chanted. "Ommmm." I loved the silence. No worries, no problems, just sweet serene--

SLAM

I smiled inwardly. Miss Summers has arrived. I cracked an eye. She was glaring at me from across the table. If looks could kill...

I slid off the table top that I had been meditating on and took a seat across from her.

Seconds passed by without so much as a twitch.

I finally decided to break the silence. "Well, hey, B."

She glared at me some more. This was gonna be fun. "So...did you have a good time last night?" I continued.

"Okay, look." Ooh, she's awake. "We're going to talk about our, actually, your issues. I don't like you, you don't like me--" Gee, what was your first hint? "--so let's just talk about your problems."

"Because, of course, the perfect, wonderful Buffy Summers doesn't have problems." I rolled my eyes. Denial much?

"That's my business." Wow, I can just feel the love radiating off of her.

"Ooh, sorry B. Thought I was s'posed to know your business."

She scoffed, shaking her head. "Just tell me about your family. Parents?"

"Dead." Let her act all high-and-mighty now.

She looked up from the table, shocked. I wasn't surprised. A lot of people have that reaction. "What?!" Yah, 'cause I really wanna talk 'bout it.

I shrugged. I really did not want to talk about it. "I was in foster care for a while, but that sucked."

She dropped it, much to my surprise. "Boyfriends?"

I counted on my fingers. "Ronnie, deadbeat. Steve, klepto. Kenny, drummer."

"Wow, suddenly my life doesn't look so bad," she murmered. Last thing I need is Miss Priss's pity.

"So what about you, B?" I asked, spinning around in my roller chair. "You gotta perfect, middle class, white family with 2.5 kids, two loving parents, three cats, a dog, and a white picket fence?"

She made a face. "Hardly. My dad skipped town with his secretary, now he and mom are divorced. Mom had brain cancer, but she got an operation done. One sister, Dawn," she stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes. I stifled a laugh. "I think she's klepto...all my stuff keeps disappearing and I think I've seen things in her room with security tags on it."

"Oooh, looks like B has some secrets of her own." I teased.

She glared. "This is confidential. Stays in this room."

I held my hands up in mock surrender. "Yah, B, I read the contract. Pretty explicit about the whole, don't-tell-anyone-about-what-you-talk-about-or-we-will-kill-you thing. But Giles ain't so tough. I could take 'im."

She glared at me. "Kidding, B! God, can't you get the stick outta your ass long enough to laugh a little?" I asked.

She glared at me and then pranced out of the room, calling over her shoulder. "I can't believe I gave up homeroom for this. I've got to get to class. Later, much, Faith."

Well, smart one. You forgot one thing. We have the same first period class. I set off down the hall, on my way to English class.

"Now, can anyone explain the difference between Adele Foucher and Juliette Drouet? Both were romantically linked to Victor Hugo, remember. No one? Well, Juliette was a courtesan."

"Isn't that, like, a prostitute?" asked Cordelia.

"A courtesan is someone who attains rank, status, or money in return for sexual favors," said Ms. Benson cautiously.

"So, like, a prostitute," repeated Cordelia.

Ms. Benson sighed. "Yes, I suppose." I tried not to laugh. Ms. Benson was trying, I'll give her that.

"So, can anyone explain to me about courting in Victor Hugo's time?" she continued. "No? No one? Well, I guess we'll try and experiment. All the girls, come to this side, please." She indicated the left side of the room. "And all the boys over here." she pointed to the right.

"Okay, whose birthday is in September?" she asked. Two kids raised their hands. "Okay, Helen. When does your birthday come?"

She smiled shyly. "The third."

"Okay, the girls go first, starting with Helen. Pick a boy." Helen pointed. "Marco, okay, you are Helen's partner."

She moved on to the next girl. "Lillian. Do I really have to ask?" Darla, whose real name was Lillian, smirked. Ms. Benson sighed. "No, I suppose not. Liam," she pointed to Angel. "You're Lillian's partner." I saw Buffy's face fall.

Oh shit, it's my turn..."Faith?" she asked. "Who...?"

I searched for a not taken person I knew. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw him. "Sp--I mean William."

"Miss Summers?" There's no one left for you to pick, Miss Priss.

I watched as Buffy tapped a (perfectly manicured) nail against her face. Everyone knew her first choice would have been Angel, but he was taken, so...

Ms. Benson looked impatient. "Hurry up. If you do not choose in five seconds, I will choose for you...Very well. I choose...Owen." Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. I was impressed. Owen wasn't half-bad looking. But you could tell that there would be hell to pay from Cordy, who was his girlfriend. She was looking murderous.

Even I don't wanna piss Cordy off. Oh wait, I do. I wonder what Ms. Benson's getting at? What were we talking about before? Courting, right. Courting, that's, what, dating? What is she gonna make us do? Not like she could do anything long-lasting...

I was brought out of my thoughts by Ms. Benson's voice. "It appears we have more girls than boys, so Willow and Tara will be partners. Now, everyone please sit next to your partner." I motioned Spike to the now-vacated seat next to me, because, hey, I didn't feel like moving. He smirked as he took the seat, so I smacked him in the head, just for the fun of it.

"Bloody hell, woman! What did I do?" he moaned in fake anguish. I smirked at him.

"You existed." I turned my head to listen to Ms. Benson.

"Now, since it seems no one knows what courting is, we're going to do an experiment. Each person has to write a love poem directed at their partner." She held up her hand to stop the groans and complaints. "And they must read it aloud tomorrow. In front of the class. If you choose not to do it, you will get two zeros on test grades." She paused, thinking. "And you will have to do on Sunnydale High morning announcements. And if you are absent, you have to dress up to do it."

I put my head on my hands. I had to write a poem...to Spike? How could this be happening?

He didn't look put off. He was actually smirking, tipping his chair back. "What?" I said, too frustrated to be angry.

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing! You're sitting there smirking, and, and...why the hell do I have to write a poem to you?"

"'Cause you just can't stand my masculine charms," he smirked.

I flipped him off. He held up two fingers in reply.

"Well, looks like you're right," I commented. "Willow's not gonna be driving stick for this project. She's, how did you so kindly put it? Oh, yeah. 'Playing for the other team.'"

The bell rang, and the kids started to get up. "Just promise you won't embarrass me?" I asked, picking up my backpack.

He smirked. "Why would I do that?"

My face heated up. "Are you talking about the promise or embarrassing me?" I wanted to know.

"Well, you'll just have to see, won't you..." with that elegant parting remark, he left the classroom, and I realized I was alone.

I rolled my eyes. Dammit. It was gonna be a long day.

Sorry for the wait. This chapters not that long, but my muse is sick.

Thanks, as ever, to Katie for being my beta.