"I'm in trouble, I'm an addict

I'm addicted to this girl

She's got my heart tied in a knot

And my stomach in a whirl

But even worse I can't stop calling her

She's all I want and more

I mean damn, what's not to adore?

I've been playing too much guitar

I've been listening to jazz

I called so many times

I swear she's going mad

And that cellular will be the death of us

I swear, I swear

And oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

I'm running my mouth just like I got her but I surely don't

Because she so uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh, rock and roll

And out of my league, is she out of my league?
Let's hope not."

~Never Shout Never~

Chapter 14 – Trouble

"If you don't shut the hell up, I swear I'm going to take that stupid ukulele and smash it over that thick cranium of yours till it's pulverized into a bloody pulp!" Spike warned, glaring at the freshman who was sitting on the grass patch nearby.

The startled young student yelped in fear and hurriedly packed up his ukulele. He scuttled away before the enraged blond could carry out his threat.

Under a big shady tree nearby, Dawn and Xander who had been sitting across from Spike exchanged a brief look of concern.

"Spike, will you quit terrifying the other students and chill out?" Dawn asked.

"It's not my fault the git sings like a drowning cat."

"His singing was fine. You're just projecting your Buffy frustrations on the poor guy."

"Oh please, you thought the singing was bloody awful too. You lot are just too damn polite to admit it." Spike scoffed in derision, "but since we're on the subject now, what's the verdict with your sis, Nibblet?"

From what she could get out of her sister over the weekend, Dawn discerned that it was highly likely that Buffy was very much in denial about her own feelings when it came to Spike. She sighed and gave the Brit an exasperated look, "She didn't tell me much but from what I can gather is that firstly, she's really, really pissed off with you. We're talking like hell hath no fury kind of wrath."

"Yeah, I think I got that impression very clearly from the way she's been ignorin' my calls and texts, so that's not exactly news to me."

"The second thing is that I haven't seen her so mad and upset over anything in a long time. So I suppose if you think about it, that's kind of a good thing actually, because it means that she must really, really like you for her to be in this state."

Spike barked out a laugh, "I'm not sure if that's good, but it's a real funny way of looking at it, Bit."

"Trust me; I haven't seen her behaving this angsty in a long time. At least not since Mom told us we had to leave L.A. for Sunnydale."

"Hellfire and damnation, Nibblet, even if you mean that as a compliment, how am I supposed to work that to my advantage?" Spike asked, shaking his head.

"Well, I thought you'd be smart enough to figure that part out yourself."

He stared at her with a deadpanned expression, "Right, I'm just bursting with tons of excellent ideas now that I know just how deeply your sister hates me."

"She probably loves you as much as she hates you though, so whatever it is that you need to do, you should probably try to patch things up before the annual SSU Ball," Xander said.

"Not that I give a crap, but why is that?"

"Because it would suck if Dawn and I can't go because of you screwing things up with Buffy."

The blond rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Aside from you being lame, Harris, do you think I haven't tried making it up to her? I must've called and texted the chit about a hundred times these past few days, and she hasn't returned a single one of them."

Spike thought about how he had tried searching for her around campus and sighed, "Attempting to talk to her is like trying to strike the lottery and I reckon I'd stand an even better chance at that. And when I did finally catch her on campus earlier today, she flashed me the finger and stormed off before I could even get a word out."

Dawn frowned dejectedly, "Okay, that's not very nice of her."

"Short of stalking her outside your place, Dawn, I'm bloody running out of ideas on how I could possibly even begin to get her to listen to me."

"You know, from what we know about Buffy," Xander thought aloud, "I think your best chance of seeking forgiveness is if you'd willingly sacrifice yourself on the altar of dignity for her."

Dawn and Spike stared at him in horror.

"Are you saying he needs to conduct some sort of demon ritual?" gasped Dawn.

"Who said anything about a demon ritual?"

"Aren't you the one talking about an altar of some worship," said Spike.

"Oh!" Xander chuckled, "Well, I don't mean it literally of course. I swear it's not as bad as it sounds."

Both of them responded with a blank look.

"It's the foundation of all great love stories, people. She needs some form of solid assurance to know that you're serious about her and you have to prove that you like her not because of what she is, but for who she is. It'll be even better if you can find a way to show it to the whole world."

Xander had made a valid statement, but then Spike also remembered that the only reason he started dating her in the first place was because she was, and still is, part of a profit making scheme. How could he dare to prove that he genuinely liked her and yet still be part of a motive that wasn't meant to be in her best interest? Worse yet, how could he allow his own feelings for Buffy to develop, knowing that ultimately this was all based on a lie? He knew he was digging himself into a bigger hole the more this went on and the thought of her ever learning the truth made him sick to his stomach.

"Spike, how much do you like my sister?" Dawn asked, bringing him out of his disheartening contemplations.

"I don't exactly know, Nibblet. More than I'd like to admit, probably. Otherwise, we wouldn't be sitting here talking about her, would we?"

"Then it shouldn't be too hard for you to find a good way to prove to her that you're serious about her. And I bet given your life experiences, you've had tons of girls falling head over heels for you for a lot less effort."

Spike laughed, "Be that as it may, Dawn, I'm sure you're well aware that your sister isn't like most girls. She's not exactly the open to discussion type an' I don't fancy getting my face punched six ways to Sunday."

"Yeah, not disagreeing with you there, and point well taken, but at the end of it all, she's still a girl, Spike. It's just that she's gone through some seriously messed up things, so it's made her more guarded around people. Particularly around the ones who could end up breaking her heart."

When Dawn put it that way, oddly enough, Spike felt his need to protect Buffy grow stronger, and it was matched only by the growing weight of his own guilt for deceiving her. He hated that his emotions were a mess and he had never found himself in such a confounded state over a girl before. He was even starting to think that feelings for Buffy aside, all this was probably a lot more trouble than what it was worth. And yet despite that awareness, the fear of losing her was overwhelming and he knew that ultimately he was willing to do whatever it took to win her back.

Buffy was just waking up from her mid-lecture nap when Professor Giles started sharing the details of their next assignment.

"Alright everyone," he said, in a posh British accent that was similar yet different from Spike's London one. "If you've read your course assignment guide, you'll notice that there's a bonus assignment coming up that can help give you another grade should you need one. It's completely optional, of course. You'll either get credit for it or not, and since I'm grading this on a pass or fail basis, you've basically got nothing to lose from giving this a go. And with that, I'd remind you that fortune favors the brave, and you are strongly encouraged to do this assignment if you're striving to be exceptional in my class."

Despite her best efforts of avoiding and ignoring him, she was having difficulty sleeping at night because of a certain bleached blond menace that was persistently on her mind. Unfortunately this also made her ability to stay awake during lectures a lot more difficult than usual. At the back of the lecture theatre, Buffy resisted the urge to yawn as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up in her seat. "All you have to do is write your own modern day interpretation of a sonnet that was written by Shakespeare, it's that easy. And do you know what the best part of this assignment is?" He grinned in delight as he adjusted his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "You get to choose your sonnet!"

Buffy leaned forward as she listened to the explanation. She had to admit that this was starting to sound rather interesting now that she was all ears.

Despite the indifferent expression on most of his students, the professor went on enthusiastically, "For those of you wondering how to go about doing that, all you have to do is come up and pick a card from this box." He grabbed a cardboard box from the desk behind him, holding it up for everyone to see.

"There are ten cards in it and each contains the title of a different sonnet." He tilted the box outwards slightly to show the slips of folded paper inside. "So the modern day interpretation of your sonnet will be based on whichever title you pick. That's all there is to it."

"Sonnet 116," She read aloud, showing the slip of paper to Professor Giles.

"That's an excellent choice indeed, Miss Summers." He smiled as he scribbled down the title of her chosen sonnet on a notepad. "I had a quick glance of the last assignment you handed in and I have to confess that I was thoroughly impressed with it. If you keep this up, I'm sure your spot on the Study Abroad program will be guaranteed."

"Oh, thank you Professor." Buffy mumbled with a small smile, wondering if the only reason he liked at all was because Spike had a hand in helping her with it.

Minutes later as she walked to her next class, she inadvertently frightened the students around her when she suddenly yelled aloud, "Arghhh! What the hell? Not again!"

It occurred to her that the bleached blond had once more found a way into her thoughts.

Buffy didn't want to go to The Bronze, but Willow wouldn't take no for an answer.

"It's been over a week, Buffy. And I know that as much as you'd like to hide under a rock until graduation, it's inevitable that you'll be seeing him again," Willow said, as she helped pick out an outfit for her best friend. "You know this is unavoidable, so you better get used to it, especially since he's an important part of the Dingoes now."

Feeling unmotivated to move a muscle, Buffy laid on her bed and stared at the ceiling as she listened to Willow's advice, "So what are you saying? That I should just suck it all up and start acknowledging his presence again?"

Meticulously going through the rack of outfits, Willow pulled out a purple cocktail dress with a deep v-neckline from the closet and assessed it for a moment. Nodding in approval, she carefully draped it over the back of the chair. "Yep, that's pretty much it, missy. Just take it like a man and move on."

"But…" Buffy sat up, looking towards Willow with a desperate look on her face. "It's still too soon, Will."

"And how long do you think it'll take before you're even remotely ready to face him again?"

Even though it had been over a week since she last saw Spike, Buffy still felt nervous at the prospect of seeing him, "I think a comfortable range of a few decades should do nicely."

Willow chuckled as she walked over to sit next to Buffy, "Honey, I know you're hurting but have you considered that maybe it's all not as bad as you think it is?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, have you wondered if perhaps you were a little too quick to judge him, and that just maybe the poor guy had a verbal diarrhea moment and said the wrong things unintentionally?"

Buffy looked down at her hands which were folded atop her lap and shrugged, "I don't know, Willow. You could be right, but it doesn't matter now anyway. He's no longer trying to call or see me after I gave him the one finger salute the other day."

"You did what?" Willow eyes widened like saucers, "Buffy, why would you do that?"

"I don't know, I guess I was at a loss for words?"

Willow raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Buffy sighed, "I suppose I was still mad at him at the time and I was afraid that he was going to give me a good explanation about the whole thing and I didn't want to hear it. He barely took two steps in my direction before I did that. And if it's any consolation, I felt really bad when I saw the look on his face. Almost as if I kicked someone's puppy into a gutter, you know?"

It was Willow turn to sigh now, pulling Buffy towards her for a long hug, "Oh, my dearest Buffster. What will I ever do with you?"

"Nothing," Buffy mumbled, she almost felt like crying as she wondered if she'd thrown away what could've been a good thing due of her own possible overreaction to a situation that seemed trivial to her now. "I'm a hopeless case, aren't I?"

The girls pulled away and Willow gave her a small smile, "No, you're not, stop being silly. I say we should just try to put this all behind us and get you dressed up to the nines. Whatever happens tonight, at least we'll look fabulous and drop dead gorgeous at all times, and that's the most important thing that matters, right?"

Buffy wasn't sure if she could put it all behind her, but she nodded in agreement. She took a deep breath, got up and took the dress that Willow had laid over the chair.

"Here goes nothing," she gulped.

When Buffy and Willow arrived at The Bronze, it was already late and they had only managed to say a quick hello to the band before they had to leave and prepare for their set.

Spike had even exchanged a brief smile with her and for a while, she thought that maybe everything was going to be alright. Unfortunately, as with most things in her life, that wouldn't be the case. While she found a natural compulsion to discreetly watch Spike as he followed the rest of the band backstage, she instantly regretted it when she saw what happened. The sight caused her wrath to roll off in tidal waves and she had to take deep breaths to calm herself down.

As the band made their way to the others side of The Bronze, a Dingoes fan ran up to Spike and shamelessly pressed her body against his. The dark haired tramp, who Buffy thought was dressed like a streetwalker, wore her black Dingoes' tee-shirt one size too small with way too much of her midriff exposed. Along with her micro mini skirt, tacky fishnet stockings and thick black eyeliner, the whole look screamed like an indecent Goth cliché.

The girl leaned forward to whisper something in his ear and when Spike pulled away, Buffy felt the urge to punch him in the face when he cheekily smirked at the other girl. He said something back and the hussy gave him a saucy grin in return.

Even though she had no right to be upset, Buffy wanted nothing more than to tell the other girl to keep her grubby hands off Spike. But since that wasn't a possibility for her, she decided that the only way she was going to feel any better about it was to get even.

Spike had never wanted to hurt another person so badly in his life until he saw Buffy rubbing up against some random stranger on the dance floor. Watching the other man's hands straying all over her body, and her smiling at the berk like he was something special made Spike want to rip this ponce's entire head off for even daring to look at her. The worst part of it all was that she was looking bloody gorgeous in that purple dress with her hair pinned up in chignon. Aside from slaughtering that fool, the other thing that he certainly wanted to do was rip that stunning dress right off her and take Buffy as his.

"You look like you're going to murder someone," said Oz, who had been standing beside him backstage.

"I was genuinely contemplating it, mate," he admitted, hands gripping at his sides tightly. "Talk about being stone cold. It sure didn't take very long for her to throw herself at the next available wanker."

"You can't win her back if you're in jail."

"I know," Spike growled. "Stick to the soddin' plot, right?"

"Well, it's your master plan, might I remind you."

"Bloody right that is, and not that I don't appreciate you guys helping tonight but the stupid bint is really not making things any easier for me." Spike turned and stormed off, not wanting to see any more of it. He went out through the back of The Bronze and lit a cigarette, taking a long drag off it in hopes that it would release some of the tension and calm him down.

Underlying the anger of what he had seen, Spike was in effect partly using that as a shield to hide the mounting fear. If Buffy only knew how much she had taken hold of his heart. The thought of how much he was uncontrollably drawn to her and what he was about to do, along with the possible rejection and ridicule he could be facing, scared the living daylights out of him. He had never done such a thing for any girl before.

Not even his former dark princess, Drusilla, who had been the center of his universe for a significant number of years before he moved to Sunnydale, could claim such a privilege.

"God, I hate her!" he sneered, hurling the cigarette to the ground. And as he crushed the light out of it with one boot, he anxiously thought, I hope she says yes.

When she got abruptly pulled off the dance floor, the last person she had expected to find doing that was Oz.

"Hey!" Buffy exclaimed, "What the heck are you doing, Oz? Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for your set?"

The guy she was dancing with, Todd, looked at her quizzically. She held out a hand and shouted over the music, "Just a minute!"

Turning back to Oz, she raised her eyebrows at him, "Well?"

"You're right, but I need you to go back and be with Willow for a while. Don't want her left alone."

His passive expression revealed nothing and Buffy narrowed her eyes in suspicion, "Do you mind explaining to me what the hell is going on here?"

"I can't, but patience, young grasshopper. All will be revealed in time."

"Ugh, come on, Oz. Cryptic much?" Buffy sighed, shaking her head, "Whatever. If you're banning me from the dance floor, then I'm going back there to get drunk."

Oz laughed, "I wouldn't get too drunk if I were you."

"Oh, is that so?" Buffy asked, with one hand on her hip, "And just why not?"

"It'd be a shame to miss our special segment."

Clamping a hand over her mouth, she stared at Oz with wide eyes for a second before removing her hand, "Oh my God, you're gonna propose to Willow, aren't you?"

"Uh..."

Without waiting for an answer, Buffy squealed in excitement, "Holy cow, this is so exciting! I mean, I know we're all probably too young for marriage, but you two are just so made for each other! And oh, don't worry about it. I swear I won't say a word to her." She winked playfully.

"But Buffy, it's not about..."

"Shush! Go on, go get ready! Your secret's safe with me, I won't leave her alone until then."

And with that she spun on her heels and headed back to the table.

Oz groaned, hoping she'd keep her promise.