Fic: Collide - Chapters 1 & 2/?
Alright, so here it is, finally. This fic came about by accident, haha. The original idea I got was for a HAU Spangel where they were in an established relationship and in their mid-twenties or so, facing a major roadblock in their relationship. I started plotting it out, making a rough outline, and found myself more and more intrigued by the back story I was coming up with for them, i.e., how they got together, things they faced along the way, etc. I ended up so attached and invested in the back story, I decided to write that story instead. That is this story and is easily my favorite of the fics I'm currently working on. I hope to write the original idea as the sequel to this, but that'll be up to my muse. :)
The title for this came from the song Collide by Howie Day. I went through many, many titles before arriving at this one by accident. I was well into the story when I heard it on the radio one day and it just clicked.
Unlike the other long stories I've posted here, this IS a WIP, so those of you gun shy about those, be aware of that. That said, I'm way, way ahead, as in, I could post 2 or 3 chapters a week and still not run out until around the end of July or so. So yeah. I should not have a problem keeping this steadily coming. I'm in the home stretch writing it, too, so it shouldn't be a WIP very much longer. ETA (as of 07-19-2013): Unfortunately things have not gone as planned with this fic and I've had to take a series of hiatuses on it. I am currently back to work on it, but I make no promises on the time line for finishing it, folks.
Okay, so I'm posting two chapters instead of just one for two reasons. First, because chapter 1 is so short, and second, because it's been so long since I've posted anything. It's sort of a thank you to those of you who stuck around waiting for fics from me. :) Oh, don't be surprised if there aren't certain characters in this that I usually put in fics (two in particular). That's just because they're planned for the sequel and don't show up in Spike's and Angel's lives until then.
Also, big thanks to thatotherperv for her help getting this into shape, and to eyezrthewindows for listening to me moan and complain when I couldn't write on this and for waiting patiently for more through my numerous blocks on it. *squishes both of you*
Collide
Pairing: S/A (eventually), S/others and A/others along the way
Rating: NC17 overall
Warning: Teenage high school kids doing things high school kids do.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not for profit … just borrowing them to get the plot bunny that invaded my brain to shut up already.
Beta'd: by thatotherperv
Summary: Human AU. Growing up is difficult enough. Being yourself while doing it is damn near impossible.
Chapter 1
Spike sat in his DeSoto and stared at his new school from the south parking lot. Sunnydale High.
Taking a deep breath, Spike forced himself to unclench his hands from the steering wheel. This was it. His senior year. Only, it wasn't anything how he imagined. He'd thought he would be attending school in Manhattan, where he'd gone for the last three years since moving to the 'States with his mum after his father's death. Except now his mum was gone too-lung cancer-and he'd been shipped off to live with his uncle on his father's side, Rupert Giles.
Spike closed his eyes and willed himself not to break down like a ninny yet again at the thought of his mum's last days. She'd been in such pain, had such a hard time breathing, that by the last days he'd been saying prayers to whatever deity would listen to just take her. To let her die so she could be at peace and pain-free. Someone had listened and now he was an orphan. An orphan sent to live with an uncle he barely knew and attend a new school with kids who knew nothing about him.
Spike opened his eyes and stared at the imposing form of his new school again. That, Spike had seen as an opportunity amid all the loss. In his old school he'd been, quite frankly, a nerd. Between his glasses and his unruly, curly hair, not to mention his utter shyness and fumbling, he'd been relegated to the status quickly. Not even his English accent could save him, although it had attracted a certain number of females the first day there. Add to that an uncertainty about his sexuality that got him caught eyeing up other male students in the shower after gym one day, and it had made for a miserable, lonely existence-one full of name calling, pushing and shoving, and bruises on more than one occasion.
Now, though, he had a chance to leave behind the ridicule and the loneliness and the insecurity. To leave behind William, the pathetic ponce everyone had laughed at and picked on … when they weren't ignoring him completely. He had a do over. A second chance, as Spike. To that end, he'd taken to dressing punk. He had even died his hair blond and got some piercings.
Realizing he was about to be late for his first day if he didn't shift, Spike took one last deep breath and climbed out of the DeSoto, glancing down at her. She was a bit of a fixer-upper. He'd bought her less than a month ago and had plans to restore her as time and money allowed. With ideas of what he wanted to do with her running through his head, Spike lifted the driver's door by the handle to get it to close right.
He'd no more shut and locked his door than he heard someone shout from close by, "Larry! Go wide!"
Spike turned just in time to see a tall, broad shouldered brunet running backwards in his direction, arm back, football in hand. He looked poised to throw. Before Spike could get out of the way or shout out a warning, the bloke plowed right into him. Spike grunted as he hit the ground and pain exploded through his arse and back. He tried to suck in a deep breath, but couldn't due to the oaf currently lying on top of him, crushing his chest.
Quickly enough, the guy scrambled off and stood, turning to hold out his hand. "Hey, sorry about that. I didn't see you there."
Spike stared up at the hand, then at the man looming over him. A mixture of awe and awkwardness swirled through Spike's gut. Dumbly he reached out and accepted the hand. He was jerked to his feet so fast he thought he might have dislocated his shoulder. He would have minded, except for the fact that he found himself staring into chocolate brown eyes he could have happily got lost in. And the man was still holding his hand.
For a moment it was as if they were frozen in time, and then a group of guys ran over, laughing and smacking Brown Eyes on the back. As if burned, the guy released Spike's hand and Spike cleared his throat, deciding he was on the way to looking like a complete prat if he didn't speak up soon.
"It's-" Spike clamped his mouth shut, cutting himself off. He'd been about to say it was alright. That was something the old him would have said, he realized. Clearing his throat, Spike affected the cockney accent he'd been practicing-having decided it would give him more credibility in his new persona than a posh, upper crust one would-and said instead, "Oi! Watch where you're going next time. Bloody ox."
One of the guy's friends let out a low whistle while another one asked, "Are you gonna take that from him?"
Brown Eyes stepped forward, asking, "English, right?"
Spike crossed his arms and widened his stance. "Yeah. What of it?"
Brown Eyes cracked his knuckles and said, "Oh nothing. I've just got this theory. See, when you English guys sing, you lose the accent, so I was wondering, when you cry out in pain, do you lose it then, too?"
Spike had to force himself not to turn and run, or at least wet himself in fear. Both were a near thing. Making himself remain calm and call Brown Eyes' bluff-at least, he hoped it was a bluff-Spike stepped in close and narrowed his eyes, cursing the fact that the bloke was taller than him by a good five inches.
"Wouldn't know. Last guy that tried it ended up on his knees begging for mercy."
Someone behind Brown Eyes chuckled and stepped up, draping an arm over the guy's shoulder. "You're the one who's going to be begging for mercy if Angel decides to take a swing."
Spike quirked an eyebrow, amusement temporarily sidelining his fear. "Angel? Seriously? And you don’t get beat up five times a day for that?"
Brown Eyes-Angel-scowled and took another step toward him, saying sharply, "It's a nickname my little sister gave me." Before Spike could come up with a suitable response, Angel backed up a step and said to his friends, "Come on, guys, this loser's not worth my time. Coach is waiting for us."
Cursing under his breath at the close call, Spike picked up his backpack from where it had fallen next to his car. He turned to head toward the school, only to find another bloke about a car length down staring at him.
Irritated, Spike walked over and asked, "What? You a friend of his too? Going to take a swing at me?"
The brunet shook his head and threw an arm around Spike's shoulders, shocking Spike silent. "No. I'm just the guy usually getting knocked down by him. I wanted to thank you for taking my place for a day."
Spike blinked and looked at the guy, trying to work out if he was for real or not, but his smile was warm, so Spike grinned back. "That right? You're welcome, then. But tomorrow, the prat's all yours."
The brunet chuckled and let his arm slide off Spike's shoulder as he said, "My name's Xander Harris, by the way."
Spike nodded. "Spike."
Xander looked at him skeptically. "Just Spike?"
Spike chuckled and shook his head. "No. Last name's Giles."
Xander's eyebrows lifted. "Giles? As in Giles our librarian Giles?"
Spike shrugged as they started for the school. "Yeah. He's my uncle. I'm staying with him."
"I see," Xander said. "Well, any nephew of Giles is a neph-um, yeah. That doesn't really work, does it?"
"Not exactly, no," Spike joked, deciding he liked Xander. The bloke was funny, and he wasn't hard on the eyes, either.
As they stepped through the doors into the school, Xander said, "You're new here, right?"
"That obvious?" Spike asked, pulling out his schedule and looking at it, then down the hall each way. Mentally he kicked himself for not taking his uncle up on the offer to walk through the school and get familiar with the layout.
"Kinda. Both because of the accent and because you basically told off the star quarterback. This school practically worships the ground Angel walks on. People don't usually challenge him that way."
Spike snorted. "Bloke's full of himself. Needs to be taken down a notch or two."
Xander nodded his agreement, but added, "Still, in the interest of not getting your ass kicked, you might want to avoid teasing him about his nickname in the future."
Spike raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why?"
"Because his sister's dead," Xander said somberly.
Spike's face fell and his gut clenched. He knew well what it was to lose someone you loved.
Immediately he felt like crawling under a rock.
"Shit," Spike said after a moment.
"Yeah. Her death was all over the news when it happened," Xander elaborated. "She was a sleepwalker, and she walked right out of the house one night and into traffic. He was the one that found her."
Spike swallowed. "Jesus. That's … awful."
Xander nodded, then changed the subject, snatching Spike's schedule out of his hand. "Hey, we have first period together and your locker isn't far from mine. I can show you around if you want."
Spike met Xander's gaze as Xander handed him back his schedule.
Trying to shake off the depressing, horrible thought of Angel's sister's death, Spike forced a smile. "Sure. Lead the way, mate."
~*~
Spike made it all the way to lunch before running into Angel again-literally-on his way to meet up with Xander in the cafeteria. It happened as Spike turned a corner, looking down at the map Xander had drawn him to guide him to the cafeteria. He hit what felt like a brick wall and bounced off, slamming back against the corner that jutted out where the two halls met. He cursed as the sharp corner dug into his spine. Glancing up at what-or rather who-he'd run into, Spike promptly cursed. Angel.
"What? Didn't get enough this morning? Needed a second go at me?"
Angel rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I was lying in wait, just on the off chance you came around that corner not watching where you were going, braintrust."
Spike snorted and glanced down the hall, realizing Angel's friends weren't around. Neither were too many other people, actually.
Looking back at Angel, Spike cleared his throat. "About this morning."
Angel visibly tensed. "What about it?"
"The nickname thing," Spike explained. "I just … wanted to apologize."
Angel blinked, obviously taken by surprise.
When a response wasn't forthcoming, Spike figured that was that and stepped around Angel, heading in the direction he thought the cafeteria was. A hand on his arm stopped him and Spike looked over at Angel, waiting.
Eventually Angel said, "Thanks."
Spike nodded, but Angel didn't let go. Butterflies danced in Spike's stomach, just like they had that morning. His skin tingled where Angel's hand held him as Spike waited to find out what else Angel wanted.
Gazes locked, Angel said, "Never found out your name this morning."
"Spike."
Angel's eyebrows shot up. "And you made fun of my nickname?"
Spike grinned. "S'pose I deserved that."
Angel grinned back. He opened his mouth to say something else, but just then his mates stepped around the corner and just like that morning, Angel let go of Spike like he'd been burned.
When his friends saw Spike, the one that had spoken up that morning asked, "Nice one. Wait until there're no witnesses, then kick his ass."
Angel held Spike's gaze for a second longer before turning away and giving Spike his back. "Told you, Larry, he's not worth my time. Buffy's waiting by my car. Let's go."
Spike stood staring at the hallway Angel and his mates disappeared down for a long moment, trying to figure out what was up with the bloke. Deciding whatever it was wasn't his business and he'd be better off forgetting Angel even existed, Spike turned, glanced at Xander's directions again, and started off. He had a brand new friend waiting. Angel could go fuck himself for all Spike cared.
Chapter 2
Xander, Spike discovered, had an interesting and varied group of friends. There was Willow, who seemed shy and sweet but who Spike suspected had a wild streak underneath, and her boyfriend, Oz, who was the epitome of zen, or at least what Spike suspected zen was. Best of all, Oz had dyed red hair.
"Spike, huh?" Oz commented, then nodded. "Cool name."
Spike smiled, pleased. He'd adopted the nickname when he'd come up with the idea to transform himself. Turn himself into the confident, don't-give-a-piss type of person he'd envied throughout school.
And when he'd laid in bed at night in his uncle's flat considering how to go about it, trying to discern who he really was inside and how to project that to the rest of the world, he'd kept coming back to the same thing. Punk. Athletics were out, unless he wanted to be a runner, which he very much didn't. He supposed he could have been on the swim team, he had the body for that kind of activity he'd been told, but there was the fact that he'd almost drowned as a child and therefore actively avoided water. American football was out, considering it was complete rubbish, as was basketball because of size issues, and baseball was bloody boring in his opinion, so there went that, too.
What it came down to was that if he wanted to be liked instead of ridiculed, if he wanted to project a 'fuck off if you don't like me' attitude and have it be believed and respected, and most importantly, if he wanted to be himself, punk it was. He'd grown up listening to it, his father having been a fan of some of the early punk bands. Spike had decided at a very early age that the Sex Pistols were bloody brilliant.
That night, lying in his new bed in his uncle's house, Spike had been born. The next day, he'd gone on a shopping spree with the money Uncle Rupert had given him to buy school supplies and clothes, and bought himself things he would have been too insecure to buy as William. Tight jeans-black pairs and blue pairs-even tighter t-shirts with different punk band logos, shirts with rips, mesh shirts … the whole spectrum. He'd even bought necklaces, bracelets and rings, along with a couple of pairs of leather pants and a pair of Docs. He was especially pleased with the Docs. When he donned them, he felt ten feet tall and powerful. Not the wimp he'd been before.
He'd also got his hair bleached blond and his eyebrow, ears and right nipple pierced. He'd thought about getting both nipples pierced, but decided he needed some time to work up the courage for that. The first one had been bloody painful.
Trying to come off like it was a compliment he heard all the time, Spike said casually, "Ta."
Looking at Spike consideringly, Oz asked, "Classic Pistols and Ramones, Hardcore, Pop, Ska or Street?"
Spike quirked his newly pierced eyebrow, barely resisting the urge to reach up and finger it self-consciously. True, he'd got it to make a statement, but part of him still couldn't believe he'd worked up the nerve to do it. It gave him a thrill every time he felt it, knowing that he'd had the balls to do that.
So, Oz wanted to know what subgenre of punk Spike was into. This was a subject he was fairly comfortable with. Turned out, not having friends or a social life left a lot of time to surf the web and introduce himself to just about every kind of music there was, especially the different kinds of punk out there.
"Bit of Pistols and Ramones," Spike said. "Some hardcore." Spike paused and shrugged. "Pop when I'm in the mood. You?"
"I'm an eclectic man myself," Oz said. "So there's this club. The Bronze. Me and my band, Dingoes Ate My Baby, are playing there tonight. If you're free, stop by."
"Will do," Spike said, trying not to show how giddy he was. He'd just been invited to go see a band at a club by one of the members of said band. This never would have happened to the old him.
"They play there two or three nights a week," a girl next to Xander-Cordeila was her name-said. "They might as well be the house band."
Spike looked over at her. Cordelia was gorgeous. All long brown hair and curves. Apparently she was a cheerleader and Xander's girlfriend. It seemed improbable, considering Xander didn't strike Spike as the jock type, or even the in-crowd type, and where Spike had come from, cheerleaders usually only dated the in-crowd. As it turned out, though, Xander was the jock type. He was on the swim team. In fact, he was one of their stars, although you'd never know it by the laid back way he acted.
"I'm gonna be there," Xander said. "The swim meet tonight was called off. Some kind of electrical problem. Speaking of," Xander added, "I'm telling you, man, you should try out. You have the body type for it." Xander paused, then said with a wink, "And the girls like it." Cordelia smacked him and Xander grinned at her. "Come on, Cordy, you know you're the only one I want." He glanced up and over her shoulder, then added, "Your friends, though, I could do without." Another smack and Xander muttered, "Oh, alright." Overly brightly, he said, "Hey, Harmony!"
A blonde stopped by their table, presumably Harmony, and said, "Hi, Xander." Spike watched as she scanned the table, her gaze locking on him. "Oooh. Who's this?"
"Harmony, Spike, Spike, Harmony," Cordelia piped in. Glancing back, she added, "He's English."
Harmony's eyes brightened. "You are? Accent and all?"
Spike smiled, although he could tell already that more than five minutes in her presence would have him wanting to strangle her. "Accent and all, ducks."
Harmony squealed and pulled up a seat between Xander and Spike. "That is so ... so ... hot. Do you have a girlfriend?"
Spike glanced around, noting everyone was waiting for his answer. Taking a deep breath, he decided it was now or never. He'd resolved that part of his new image-part of his pact to be himself-was to stop hiding in the closet. He wasn't going to be ashamed of the fact that he liked both girls and guys anymore.
"Nope. Don't have a boyfriend, either."
Spike held his breath, waiting for everyone's reactions. They were varied. Oz seemed like the response didn't faze him at all. Willow blushed, but smiled and Cordelia's eyes widened, but then she grinned too.
Xander-whose opinion Spike found he most cared about-blinked several times, then asked, "What's your type? I could set you up. There's this girl in my English class who's really cute, or this guy in Economics who's not bad either. If you're into that. Which, heh, you already said you are. And now I'm rambling." Xander paused and cleared his throat, smiling sheepishly as he continued, "So where was I? Oh yeah. He just broke up with his boyfriend, though. Probably don't want to go there until he's through the rebound phase."
Spike laughed, more relieved than he'd thought he'd be, considering he'd only known Xander for half a day. He was finding, though, that the two of them clicked. It sort of felt like they'd been friends for years already, instead of hours.
"I'll get back to you on that. Kind of playing the field right now. Not really looking for a significant other at the moment."
Harmony leaned in and wrapped an arm around Spike's, pressing her breasts against him as she said, "You know, I've always had this guy-guy-girl fantasy-"
"Harmony!" Cordelia interrupted, then looked at Spike. "Sorry. She's got this foot in mouth syndrome. I've been meaning to get her lips sewn shut for years now."
Trying not to show how much having Harmony-any girl really-hang all over him and proposition him for a three-way freaked him out considering he'd never even kissed anyone before, Spike grinned and said with as much self-confidence as he could muster, "No worries." To Harmony, Spike added, "Ta for the offer, pet, but I'm more of a one-on-one kind of bloke."
Harmony backed off and pouted. "Alright, but if you change your mind..."
Spike chuckled. "I'll look you up, promise."
Harmony smiled brightly, then stood and walked off to talk to another group of friends across the room.
"Wow," Willow said. "Can you believe her? I mean. Wow. I can't even imagine offering ... that. Or, or even just, you know, regular sex to a complete stranger."
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Yeah. It's just Harmony being Harmony. Look, I'll catch you guys later. I've got to talk to one of my teachers about an assignment that's due on Friday."
"Mrs. Pendleton?" Willow asked. Cordelia nodded and Willow said, "I'll come with you. I wanted to talk to her about that too."
They stood together and left, then Oz stood, saying, "Think I'll take off too. Figured I'd cut the rest of the day and get some practice in before tonight's show."
"Looking forward to it," Spike said. "See you then."
Oz nodded before walking away, and then it was down to Xander and him. Spike glanced around and laughed nervously. "Was it something I said?"
Xander shot him a confused look. "What?" Spike arched an eyebrow and Xander's expression cleared. "Oh that? No. Oz is bi and out, too. It's not a big deal. Everybody's just got stuff."
"And do you?" Spike asked, still not entirely trusting that it didn't bother Xander. At Xander's look, Spike elaborated, "Have somewhere pressing you suddenly need to be too?"
Xander cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. "If you're asking if it bothers me, no. It's just..."
When Xander trailed off, Spike tilted his head slightly and prompted, "Just what?"
Xander looked down at his hands and said, "Uh, well, I'm kind of a gay guy magnet. They have a habit of hitting on me, so if uh, you were, you know, interested ... and wow does that sound conceited."
Spike smiled. "Just for the record, I'd rather have a friend than a boyfriend right now." Leaning in, Spike said conspiratorially, "Besides, don’t tell her, but Cordelia kind of scares me."
Xander laughed, visibly relaxing. "Honestly? She kind of scares me too."
~*~
Spike stopped in to the library after school and found his uncle pouring over some dusty, hard-bound book.
"Hey, Uncle Rupert."
Giles looked up and smiled. "William. How was your first day?"
Spike tensed at being called William, and glanced around to make sure no one had heard. He'd told his uncle a couple of times now that he wanted to be called Spike, not William. Seeing that no one was around, Spike relaxed, reminding himself that his uncle was trying, so he shouldn't get bent out of shape about him forgetting to call him Spike.
Hopping up on the counter next to his uncle, Spike said, "First off, it's Spike if you wouldn't mind."
Giles nodded. "Of course. I forgot."
Spike grinned. "No worries. Can still call me Will at home or whatnot."
Giles grinned in return. "You had a good first day, I take it?"
Spike shrugged. "Was alright. Made some friends, I think."
"Oh? That was quick. Who?"
"Xander Harris, mainly, but I met Willow, Oz and Cordelia too. Oh, and Harmony, but I can live without ever talking to her again."
Giles chuckled. "Harmony can be trying at times. Xander's a good boy, in spite of his complete and utter disregard for the English language. So are Willow and Oz. Cordelia is a force unto her own, but I think her heart's in the right place. Mostly."
Spike nodded. "Was about the impression I got of them, too." Spike cast his uncle a sideways look and added, "Oz invited me to the Bronze tonight to watch his band play."
"Sounds like fun."
Spike quirked an eyebrow. "You don't mind?"
Giles frowned. "Why would I mind?"
It had actually surprised Spike how well Giles had handled his punk transformation. Spike had walked into his uncle's flat one day bleached, pierced, and wearing some of the clothes he'd bought, fully prepared to have his first row with Giles over it. When his uncle saw him, he'd done a double take, appearing gobsmacked for a moment. He'd recovered quickly enough, but instead of yelling at Spike or ordering him to take out the piercings and return the clothes, his uncle sat him down and told him he understood the need to rebel in the face of his mum's and dad's deaths, not to mention being uprooted twice in the last four years.
It had been Spike's turn to be gobsmacked, then, and while he'd sat there wondering what dimension he'd fallen into, his uncle added that he would support Spike in whatever he needed to do to get through it, as long as it was legal. At the time, Spike hadn't known whether he was being patronized or not, but the look on his uncle's face had seemed sincere, so he decided to take him at face value. His uncle hadn't done anything since to make him think otherwise, either.
Spike shrugged. "Don't know. Just." Spike hesitated, then said quietly, "Mum never let me out on weeknights."
Giles' eyes widened briefly before he reached out and squeezed Spike's knee, saying, "You're a senior now, and eighteen besides. I don't expect you to sit in during the week. Just don't be too late, alright? And if it's going to be after, say, eleven on weeknights, midnight on weekends, I expect a call and a time estimate that's reasonable. Does that sound fair?"
Spike blinked, then smiled. "Ta."
~*~
Spike showed up at the Bronze that night decked out in leather pants and a black, mesh, see-through shirt, hair spiked, eyeliner in place. He'd even painted his nails black for the occasion. Now, though, he was second guessing himself, wondering if he'd overdone it and it would be obvious. Maybe they'd all laugh at him for trying too hard.
He was ready to turn tail and bolt when he heard his name shouted across the room. Turning back to the room, Spike scanned it and spotted Xander waving him down. Swallowing hard, Spike headed over and slid into the seat between Xander's and Willow's.
"You made it," Xander commented with a grin.
"'Course I did," Spike said. "Wouldn't miss free music, would I?"
Xander laughed. "They come on any minute."
Just then, Spike spotted a tall brunet across the room and zeroed in, realizing with dismay that it was Angel.
Cursing his luck, Spike leaned toward Xander and asked, "The elite hang out with the rest of us common folk in this town?"
Xander followed his gaze. "Yeah, well, there aren't a lot of good clubs around here that let teens in. You want to dance, you come to the Bronze."
Spike turned and looked at Xander. "Angel dances?"
Xander laughed. "Uh, no. Angel watches Buffy dance. Buffy's his girlfriend."
"Ah," Spike said, leaning back in his seat, wondering vaguely why it bothered him that Angel had a girlfriend. Not like he fancied the bloke. Good looks aside, Angel was a complete wanker from what Spike had seen so far.
Glancing around, Spike found Angel again despite himself, and watched as he laughed at a joke, then leaned down toward someone Spike couldn't see over the crowd. Suddenly, as if on cue, the crowd parted, giving Spike a perfect view of Angel kissing a petite blonde that Spike assumed was Buffy. A twinge of something curled through Spike's gut and he looked away, thankful Oz's band chose that moment to step on stage. A distraction from things he didn't want to think about was just what he needed.
The band kicked in and sure enough, Spike forgot all about Angel and Buffy for a while, getting into the music. The band wasn't bad. It wasn't the best Spike had ever heard, of course, but it was decent. Decent enough that after a couple of songs, Spike was itching to get out on the dance floor, try out some of the moves he'd practiced in his room at home while watching movies and dance shows.
Turning to Xander, he asked, "Want to?"
Xander looked away from the stage and asked, "What?"
"Want to dance?"
"With, uh ... with you?"
Spike chuckled at the deer caught in the headlights look on Xander's face. "Not with with me, no. Just out there at the same time, like."
Xander's face cleared and he smiled, but shook his head. "Sorry. I don't dance so much as flail about in an amusing fashion. Cordelia's banned me from stepping foot on the dance floor."
Spike frowned. "Last I checked, she's your girlfriend not your keeper, yeah?"
From the other side of Spike, Willow, who had been pretty much silent to that point, busy watching Oz and bouncing happily in her seat to the music, said, "Aw, come on Xander. Spike's right. Cordelia's just being Cordelia. She's not even here. It wouldn't hurt to go out there and have some fun. I'll come with!"
"I don't know, guys..." Xander said, trailing off, obviously wanting to, but not wanting to piss off Cordelia in the process.
Spike glanced over at Willow and shot her a conspiratorial look. They hopped to their feet and each grabbed one of Xander's arms, pulling him out of his chair and toward the dance floor.
"Hey! Wait! This is kidnapping! Let me go!" Xander shouted, trying to pull away, although Spike suspected it was half-hearted, given the grin on Xander's face.
Spike shook his head. "Not until I see you flail, pet."
Xander glowered as they stopped at an empty part of the dance floor. "I'm not your pet."
Spike grinned and leaned in, blaming his blatant flirting on the leather pants and nail polish he was sporting. It was easy to forget he'd been a shy near recluse just weeks ago when he was done up like he was.
"Would you rather I call you baby?"
Xander's eyes widened and color crept up his cheeks, even as his eyes dropped to Spike's lips. Spike sucked in a sharp breath and backed off, staring into Xander's eyes until they lifted to meet his. What Spike saw there surprised him. He was attracted to Xander, sure, but he hadn't realized the attraction went two ways. Xander hadn't given any indication he leaned that way too.
Spike decided he'd have to be more careful. He'd been telling the truth that afternoon when he'd said he'd rather have a friend than a boyfriend. This was the first time he was experiencing what it was like to have people he connected to and had fun with. The first time he really felt like he belonged somewhere. He didn't want to give all that up after only a day just to experiment with someone, especially someone already spoken for.
Finally Xander swallowed and croaked out, "No, pet's fine."
Next to them, Willow was already dancing, apparently oblivious to what was going on.
Spike nodded his head toward her. "Looks like Willow's got the idea. What say we give it a go?"
Still looking dubious at the prospect, Xander nodded anyway, and soon they were dancing and laughing and Xander was right, he did flail more than he actually danced, but Spike didn't mind at all, especially considering the ear to ear smile on Xander's face.
So of course, Angel chose that moment to pop up in front of them and ruin everything. At least, in Spike's opinion. Xander didn't seem to mind, although it was actually who Angel was with that Xander seemed happy to see.
"Buffy! Come to dance among the common folk?"
The blonde Spike had guessed correctly was Buffy rolled her eyes and punched Xander in the shoulder. "Yeah, right. You're not common folk, Xander."
Xander's grin widened.
Turning to Spike, Buffy asked, "Who's this?"
Spike opened his mouth to answer but Angel beat him to it. "That's Spike."
Buffy's smile disappeared and her eyes narrowed. "The jerk who made fun of your nickname?"
"Oi!" Spike said. "I apologized for that!"
Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and leveled her glare at Angel. "You didn't tell me that part."
"Well, I..." Angel trailed off, and glanced over at Spike.
Spike, for his part, grinned an 'I got you' grin, delighted to no end that he'd turned the tables on Angel.
"-;hadn't gotten around to it yet," Angel finished, lamely in Spike's opinion.
Buffy snorted, but seemed to shake off her irritation with him and smiled at Spike. "So you two kissed and made up?"
Spike's eyes widened and his gaze flew to Angel's, who looked just as horrified.
"I uh, wouldn't say that," Spike hedged, trying to get the thought of him and Angel kissing out of his head. Somehow, he just knew it'd be an earth shattering experience.
Next to Spike, Xander laughed and stepped forward, putting an arm around Buffy's shoulder as he said, "Ah Buffster, if you only knew of what you speak."
Buffy shot him a confused look. "What?"
Xander glanced over at Spike. "Can I?"
Spike shrugged, and even though he felt uncomfortable having his sexuality announced to Angel, said, "Sure. 'S not a secret."
"Spike's bi, Buff. I think the last thing you want him doing is kissing your man, making up or otherwise."
Spike could feel Angel's eyes boring into him but refused to look his way, not wanting to see the disgust he was sure would be written all over Angel's face. Buffy, on the other hand, looked intrigued by the idea.
"Oh? Oh! Are you dating anyone? Because I've got this friend. He's a sweet guy. He just got out of this relationship, though, so-"
"Yeah, I already suggested it, but Spike nixed the idea. Probably better to wait until Billy's done rebounding anyway."
"You want to set him up with Billy Ford?" Angel's sudden outburst caused the rest of them, Spike included, to look at him as if he'd grown another head.
"What's wrong with Billy?" Buffy finally asked.
Looking uncomfortable, Angel said, "I don't know. I just ... doubt he's Spike's type."
Intrigued, Spike asked, "Think you know my type, then?"
Angel shrugged. "Just figured you'd go for someone like Oz-" Willow made a noise and Angel hurried to add, "If he was single, I mean. You know, someone like you. Billy's pretty straight-laced."
"Maybe I like straight-laced. Can be fun, getting someone like that to let loose. Never know what's hidden underneath," Spike said with a wink, deciding he really must be channeling attitude through his leather pants. It was the only explanation why he wasn't blushing and stumbling over himself to get out of there and away from the conversation taking place.
"Jesus," Angel said, wiping a hand over his face. "Look. I don't care what you do behind closed doors or who you do it with, but don't give me a visual, okay?"
Spike tensed. "First off, wanker, wasn't trying to give you a visual. Second, who says I was talking about that. Could have just meant loosen him up on the dance floor or whatnot."
Angel made a disgusted sound and said, "Yeah. Right. Come on, Buffy, let's get out of here."
Angel started to turn and leave, hand on Buffy's arm, but Buffy jerked free and said, "I don't think so."
"Buffy-" Angel started.
"Don't 'Buffy' me," she replied. "You're the one being an ass."
Irritation flashed through Angel's eyes, but his voice was cajoling when he said, "Come on, Buffy."
Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and said, "No. I'm spending the evening with my friends. Go find yours. I'll see you tomorrow."
Angel glared at her for a second, then turned his glare on Spike before storming off alone.
After Angel left, Spike whistled low and Buffy punched him. "Ow!" Spike exclaimed, glaring at her while rubbing his upper arm. She had a wicked punch.
"That's for antagonizing Angel."
Spike huffed, but decided he liked her. They all stood around talking for a while, then started dancing again.
At one point, Spike felt someone watching him and looked out across the crowd. He found Angel standing off to one side, arms crossed over his chest, just staring at them, a tall black guy at his side who Spike hadn't seen him with before. Spike's and Angel's eyes locked and Spike felt something skitter down his spine. Whether it was apprehension or excitement, he wasn't sure. Either way, he was enjoying himself too much to let Angel get to him. Turning away, Spike lost himself in the music and his new friends, determined not to give Angel another thought.
Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.
Continued here.
The title for this came from the song Collide by Howie Day. I went through many, many titles before arriving at this one by accident. I was well into the story when I heard it on the radio one day and it just clicked.
Unlike the other long stories I've posted here, this IS a WIP, so those of you gun shy about those, be aware of that. That said, I'm way, way ahead, as in, I could post 2 or 3 chapters a week and still not run out until around the end of July or so. So yeah. I should not have a problem keeping this steadily coming. I'm in the home stretch writing it, too, so it shouldn't be a WIP very much longer. ETA (as of 07-19-2013): Unfortunately things have not gone as planned with this fic and I've had to take a series of hiatuses on it. I am currently back to work on it, but I make no promises on the time line for finishing it, folks.
Okay, so I'm posting two chapters instead of just one for two reasons. First, because chapter 1 is so short, and second, because it's been so long since I've posted anything. It's sort of a thank you to those of you who stuck around waiting for fics from me. :) Oh, don't be surprised if there aren't certain characters in this that I usually put in fics (two in particular). That's just because they're planned for the sequel and don't show up in Spike's and Angel's lives until then.
Also, big thanks to thatotherperv for her help getting this into shape, and to eyezrthewindows for listening to me moan and complain when I couldn't write on this and for waiting patiently for more through my numerous blocks on it. *squishes both of you*
Collide
Pairing: S/A (eventually), S/others and A/others along the way
Rating: NC17 overall
Warning: Teenage high school kids doing things high school kids do.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not for profit … just borrowing them to get the plot bunny that invaded my brain to shut up already.
Beta'd: by thatotherperv
Summary: Human AU. Growing up is difficult enough. Being yourself while doing it is damn near impossible.
Chapter 1
Spike sat in his DeSoto and stared at his new school from the south parking lot. Sunnydale High.
Taking a deep breath, Spike forced himself to unclench his hands from the steering wheel. This was it. His senior year. Only, it wasn't anything how he imagined. He'd thought he would be attending school in Manhattan, where he'd gone for the last three years since moving to the 'States with his mum after his father's death. Except now his mum was gone too-lung cancer-and he'd been shipped off to live with his uncle on his father's side, Rupert Giles.
Spike closed his eyes and willed himself not to break down like a ninny yet again at the thought of his mum's last days. She'd been in such pain, had such a hard time breathing, that by the last days he'd been saying prayers to whatever deity would listen to just take her. To let her die so she could be at peace and pain-free. Someone had listened and now he was an orphan. An orphan sent to live with an uncle he barely knew and attend a new school with kids who knew nothing about him.
Spike opened his eyes and stared at the imposing form of his new school again. That, Spike had seen as an opportunity amid all the loss. In his old school he'd been, quite frankly, a nerd. Between his glasses and his unruly, curly hair, not to mention his utter shyness and fumbling, he'd been relegated to the status quickly. Not even his English accent could save him, although it had attracted a certain number of females the first day there. Add to that an uncertainty about his sexuality that got him caught eyeing up other male students in the shower after gym one day, and it had made for a miserable, lonely existence-one full of name calling, pushing and shoving, and bruises on more than one occasion.
Now, though, he had a chance to leave behind the ridicule and the loneliness and the insecurity. To leave behind William, the pathetic ponce everyone had laughed at and picked on … when they weren't ignoring him completely. He had a do over. A second chance, as Spike. To that end, he'd taken to dressing punk. He had even died his hair blond and got some piercings.
Realizing he was about to be late for his first day if he didn't shift, Spike took one last deep breath and climbed out of the DeSoto, glancing down at her. She was a bit of a fixer-upper. He'd bought her less than a month ago and had plans to restore her as time and money allowed. With ideas of what he wanted to do with her running through his head, Spike lifted the driver's door by the handle to get it to close right.
He'd no more shut and locked his door than he heard someone shout from close by, "Larry! Go wide!"
Spike turned just in time to see a tall, broad shouldered brunet running backwards in his direction, arm back, football in hand. He looked poised to throw. Before Spike could get out of the way or shout out a warning, the bloke plowed right into him. Spike grunted as he hit the ground and pain exploded through his arse and back. He tried to suck in a deep breath, but couldn't due to the oaf currently lying on top of him, crushing his chest.
Quickly enough, the guy scrambled off and stood, turning to hold out his hand. "Hey, sorry about that. I didn't see you there."
Spike stared up at the hand, then at the man looming over him. A mixture of awe and awkwardness swirled through Spike's gut. Dumbly he reached out and accepted the hand. He was jerked to his feet so fast he thought he might have dislocated his shoulder. He would have minded, except for the fact that he found himself staring into chocolate brown eyes he could have happily got lost in. And the man was still holding his hand.
For a moment it was as if they were frozen in time, and then a group of guys ran over, laughing and smacking Brown Eyes on the back. As if burned, the guy released Spike's hand and Spike cleared his throat, deciding he was on the way to looking like a complete prat if he didn't speak up soon.
"It's-" Spike clamped his mouth shut, cutting himself off. He'd been about to say it was alright. That was something the old him would have said, he realized. Clearing his throat, Spike affected the cockney accent he'd been practicing-having decided it would give him more credibility in his new persona than a posh, upper crust one would-and said instead, "Oi! Watch where you're going next time. Bloody ox."
One of the guy's friends let out a low whistle while another one asked, "Are you gonna take that from him?"
Brown Eyes stepped forward, asking, "English, right?"
Spike crossed his arms and widened his stance. "Yeah. What of it?"
Brown Eyes cracked his knuckles and said, "Oh nothing. I've just got this theory. See, when you English guys sing, you lose the accent, so I was wondering, when you cry out in pain, do you lose it then, too?"
Spike had to force himself not to turn and run, or at least wet himself in fear. Both were a near thing. Making himself remain calm and call Brown Eyes' bluff-at least, he hoped it was a bluff-Spike stepped in close and narrowed his eyes, cursing the fact that the bloke was taller than him by a good five inches.
"Wouldn't know. Last guy that tried it ended up on his knees begging for mercy."
Someone behind Brown Eyes chuckled and stepped up, draping an arm over the guy's shoulder. "You're the one who's going to be begging for mercy if Angel decides to take a swing."
Spike quirked an eyebrow, amusement temporarily sidelining his fear. "Angel? Seriously? And you don’t get beat up five times a day for that?"
Brown Eyes-Angel-scowled and took another step toward him, saying sharply, "It's a nickname my little sister gave me." Before Spike could come up with a suitable response, Angel backed up a step and said to his friends, "Come on, guys, this loser's not worth my time. Coach is waiting for us."
Cursing under his breath at the close call, Spike picked up his backpack from where it had fallen next to his car. He turned to head toward the school, only to find another bloke about a car length down staring at him.
Irritated, Spike walked over and asked, "What? You a friend of his too? Going to take a swing at me?"
The brunet shook his head and threw an arm around Spike's shoulders, shocking Spike silent. "No. I'm just the guy usually getting knocked down by him. I wanted to thank you for taking my place for a day."
Spike blinked and looked at the guy, trying to work out if he was for real or not, but his smile was warm, so Spike grinned back. "That right? You're welcome, then. But tomorrow, the prat's all yours."
The brunet chuckled and let his arm slide off Spike's shoulder as he said, "My name's Xander Harris, by the way."
Spike nodded. "Spike."
Xander looked at him skeptically. "Just Spike?"
Spike chuckled and shook his head. "No. Last name's Giles."
Xander's eyebrows lifted. "Giles? As in Giles our librarian Giles?"
Spike shrugged as they started for the school. "Yeah. He's my uncle. I'm staying with him."
"I see," Xander said. "Well, any nephew of Giles is a neph-um, yeah. That doesn't really work, does it?"
"Not exactly, no," Spike joked, deciding he liked Xander. The bloke was funny, and he wasn't hard on the eyes, either.
As they stepped through the doors into the school, Xander said, "You're new here, right?"
"That obvious?" Spike asked, pulling out his schedule and looking at it, then down the hall each way. Mentally he kicked himself for not taking his uncle up on the offer to walk through the school and get familiar with the layout.
"Kinda. Both because of the accent and because you basically told off the star quarterback. This school practically worships the ground Angel walks on. People don't usually challenge him that way."
Spike snorted. "Bloke's full of himself. Needs to be taken down a notch or two."
Xander nodded his agreement, but added, "Still, in the interest of not getting your ass kicked, you might want to avoid teasing him about his nickname in the future."
Spike raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why?"
"Because his sister's dead," Xander said somberly.
Spike's face fell and his gut clenched. He knew well what it was to lose someone you loved.
Immediately he felt like crawling under a rock.
"Shit," Spike said after a moment.
"Yeah. Her death was all over the news when it happened," Xander elaborated. "She was a sleepwalker, and she walked right out of the house one night and into traffic. He was the one that found her."
Spike swallowed. "Jesus. That's … awful."
Xander nodded, then changed the subject, snatching Spike's schedule out of his hand. "Hey, we have first period together and your locker isn't far from mine. I can show you around if you want."
Spike met Xander's gaze as Xander handed him back his schedule.
Trying to shake off the depressing, horrible thought of Angel's sister's death, Spike forced a smile. "Sure. Lead the way, mate."
~*~
Spike made it all the way to lunch before running into Angel again-literally-on his way to meet up with Xander in the cafeteria. It happened as Spike turned a corner, looking down at the map Xander had drawn him to guide him to the cafeteria. He hit what felt like a brick wall and bounced off, slamming back against the corner that jutted out where the two halls met. He cursed as the sharp corner dug into his spine. Glancing up at what-or rather who-he'd run into, Spike promptly cursed. Angel.
"What? Didn't get enough this morning? Needed a second go at me?"
Angel rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I was lying in wait, just on the off chance you came around that corner not watching where you were going, braintrust."
Spike snorted and glanced down the hall, realizing Angel's friends weren't around. Neither were too many other people, actually.
Looking back at Angel, Spike cleared his throat. "About this morning."
Angel visibly tensed. "What about it?"
"The nickname thing," Spike explained. "I just … wanted to apologize."
Angel blinked, obviously taken by surprise.
When a response wasn't forthcoming, Spike figured that was that and stepped around Angel, heading in the direction he thought the cafeteria was. A hand on his arm stopped him and Spike looked over at Angel, waiting.
Eventually Angel said, "Thanks."
Spike nodded, but Angel didn't let go. Butterflies danced in Spike's stomach, just like they had that morning. His skin tingled where Angel's hand held him as Spike waited to find out what else Angel wanted.
Gazes locked, Angel said, "Never found out your name this morning."
"Spike."
Angel's eyebrows shot up. "And you made fun of my nickname?"
Spike grinned. "S'pose I deserved that."
Angel grinned back. He opened his mouth to say something else, but just then his mates stepped around the corner and just like that morning, Angel let go of Spike like he'd been burned.
When his friends saw Spike, the one that had spoken up that morning asked, "Nice one. Wait until there're no witnesses, then kick his ass."
Angel held Spike's gaze for a second longer before turning away and giving Spike his back. "Told you, Larry, he's not worth my time. Buffy's waiting by my car. Let's go."
Spike stood staring at the hallway Angel and his mates disappeared down for a long moment, trying to figure out what was up with the bloke. Deciding whatever it was wasn't his business and he'd be better off forgetting Angel even existed, Spike turned, glanced at Xander's directions again, and started off. He had a brand new friend waiting. Angel could go fuck himself for all Spike cared.
Chapter 2
Xander, Spike discovered, had an interesting and varied group of friends. There was Willow, who seemed shy and sweet but who Spike suspected had a wild streak underneath, and her boyfriend, Oz, who was the epitome of zen, or at least what Spike suspected zen was. Best of all, Oz had dyed red hair.
"Spike, huh?" Oz commented, then nodded. "Cool name."
Spike smiled, pleased. He'd adopted the nickname when he'd come up with the idea to transform himself. Turn himself into the confident, don't-give-a-piss type of person he'd envied throughout school.
And when he'd laid in bed at night in his uncle's flat considering how to go about it, trying to discern who he really was inside and how to project that to the rest of the world, he'd kept coming back to the same thing. Punk. Athletics were out, unless he wanted to be a runner, which he very much didn't. He supposed he could have been on the swim team, he had the body for that kind of activity he'd been told, but there was the fact that he'd almost drowned as a child and therefore actively avoided water. American football was out, considering it was complete rubbish, as was basketball because of size issues, and baseball was bloody boring in his opinion, so there went that, too.
What it came down to was that if he wanted to be liked instead of ridiculed, if he wanted to project a 'fuck off if you don't like me' attitude and have it be believed and respected, and most importantly, if he wanted to be himself, punk it was. He'd grown up listening to it, his father having been a fan of some of the early punk bands. Spike had decided at a very early age that the Sex Pistols were bloody brilliant.
That night, lying in his new bed in his uncle's house, Spike had been born. The next day, he'd gone on a shopping spree with the money Uncle Rupert had given him to buy school supplies and clothes, and bought himself things he would have been too insecure to buy as William. Tight jeans-black pairs and blue pairs-even tighter t-shirts with different punk band logos, shirts with rips, mesh shirts … the whole spectrum. He'd even bought necklaces, bracelets and rings, along with a couple of pairs of leather pants and a pair of Docs. He was especially pleased with the Docs. When he donned them, he felt ten feet tall and powerful. Not the wimp he'd been before.
He'd also got his hair bleached blond and his eyebrow, ears and right nipple pierced. He'd thought about getting both nipples pierced, but decided he needed some time to work up the courage for that. The first one had been bloody painful.
Trying to come off like it was a compliment he heard all the time, Spike said casually, "Ta."
Looking at Spike consideringly, Oz asked, "Classic Pistols and Ramones, Hardcore, Pop, Ska or Street?"
Spike quirked his newly pierced eyebrow, barely resisting the urge to reach up and finger it self-consciously. True, he'd got it to make a statement, but part of him still couldn't believe he'd worked up the nerve to do it. It gave him a thrill every time he felt it, knowing that he'd had the balls to do that.
So, Oz wanted to know what subgenre of punk Spike was into. This was a subject he was fairly comfortable with. Turned out, not having friends or a social life left a lot of time to surf the web and introduce himself to just about every kind of music there was, especially the different kinds of punk out there.
"Bit of Pistols and Ramones," Spike said. "Some hardcore." Spike paused and shrugged. "Pop when I'm in the mood. You?"
"I'm an eclectic man myself," Oz said. "So there's this club. The Bronze. Me and my band, Dingoes Ate My Baby, are playing there tonight. If you're free, stop by."
"Will do," Spike said, trying not to show how giddy he was. He'd just been invited to go see a band at a club by one of the members of said band. This never would have happened to the old him.
"They play there two or three nights a week," a girl next to Xander-Cordeila was her name-said. "They might as well be the house band."
Spike looked over at her. Cordelia was gorgeous. All long brown hair and curves. Apparently she was a cheerleader and Xander's girlfriend. It seemed improbable, considering Xander didn't strike Spike as the jock type, or even the in-crowd type, and where Spike had come from, cheerleaders usually only dated the in-crowd. As it turned out, though, Xander was the jock type. He was on the swim team. In fact, he was one of their stars, although you'd never know it by the laid back way he acted.
"I'm gonna be there," Xander said. "The swim meet tonight was called off. Some kind of electrical problem. Speaking of," Xander added, "I'm telling you, man, you should try out. You have the body type for it." Xander paused, then said with a wink, "And the girls like it." Cordelia smacked him and Xander grinned at her. "Come on, Cordy, you know you're the only one I want." He glanced up and over her shoulder, then added, "Your friends, though, I could do without." Another smack and Xander muttered, "Oh, alright." Overly brightly, he said, "Hey, Harmony!"
A blonde stopped by their table, presumably Harmony, and said, "Hi, Xander." Spike watched as she scanned the table, her gaze locking on him. "Oooh. Who's this?"
"Harmony, Spike, Spike, Harmony," Cordelia piped in. Glancing back, she added, "He's English."
Harmony's eyes brightened. "You are? Accent and all?"
Spike smiled, although he could tell already that more than five minutes in her presence would have him wanting to strangle her. "Accent and all, ducks."
Harmony squealed and pulled up a seat between Xander and Spike. "That is so ... so ... hot. Do you have a girlfriend?"
Spike glanced around, noting everyone was waiting for his answer. Taking a deep breath, he decided it was now or never. He'd resolved that part of his new image-part of his pact to be himself-was to stop hiding in the closet. He wasn't going to be ashamed of the fact that he liked both girls and guys anymore.
"Nope. Don't have a boyfriend, either."
Spike held his breath, waiting for everyone's reactions. They were varied. Oz seemed like the response didn't faze him at all. Willow blushed, but smiled and Cordelia's eyes widened, but then she grinned too.
Xander-whose opinion Spike found he most cared about-blinked several times, then asked, "What's your type? I could set you up. There's this girl in my English class who's really cute, or this guy in Economics who's not bad either. If you're into that. Which, heh, you already said you are. And now I'm rambling." Xander paused and cleared his throat, smiling sheepishly as he continued, "So where was I? Oh yeah. He just broke up with his boyfriend, though. Probably don't want to go there until he's through the rebound phase."
Spike laughed, more relieved than he'd thought he'd be, considering he'd only known Xander for half a day. He was finding, though, that the two of them clicked. It sort of felt like they'd been friends for years already, instead of hours.
"I'll get back to you on that. Kind of playing the field right now. Not really looking for a significant other at the moment."
Harmony leaned in and wrapped an arm around Spike's, pressing her breasts against him as she said, "You know, I've always had this guy-guy-girl fantasy-"
"Harmony!" Cordelia interrupted, then looked at Spike. "Sorry. She's got this foot in mouth syndrome. I've been meaning to get her lips sewn shut for years now."
Trying not to show how much having Harmony-any girl really-hang all over him and proposition him for a three-way freaked him out considering he'd never even kissed anyone before, Spike grinned and said with as much self-confidence as he could muster, "No worries." To Harmony, Spike added, "Ta for the offer, pet, but I'm more of a one-on-one kind of bloke."
Harmony backed off and pouted. "Alright, but if you change your mind..."
Spike chuckled. "I'll look you up, promise."
Harmony smiled brightly, then stood and walked off to talk to another group of friends across the room.
"Wow," Willow said. "Can you believe her? I mean. Wow. I can't even imagine offering ... that. Or, or even just, you know, regular sex to a complete stranger."
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Yeah. It's just Harmony being Harmony. Look, I'll catch you guys later. I've got to talk to one of my teachers about an assignment that's due on Friday."
"Mrs. Pendleton?" Willow asked. Cordelia nodded and Willow said, "I'll come with you. I wanted to talk to her about that too."
They stood together and left, then Oz stood, saying, "Think I'll take off too. Figured I'd cut the rest of the day and get some practice in before tonight's show."
"Looking forward to it," Spike said. "See you then."
Oz nodded before walking away, and then it was down to Xander and him. Spike glanced around and laughed nervously. "Was it something I said?"
Xander shot him a confused look. "What?" Spike arched an eyebrow and Xander's expression cleared. "Oh that? No. Oz is bi and out, too. It's not a big deal. Everybody's just got stuff."
"And do you?" Spike asked, still not entirely trusting that it didn't bother Xander. At Xander's look, Spike elaborated, "Have somewhere pressing you suddenly need to be too?"
Xander cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. "If you're asking if it bothers me, no. It's just..."
When Xander trailed off, Spike tilted his head slightly and prompted, "Just what?"
Xander looked down at his hands and said, "Uh, well, I'm kind of a gay guy magnet. They have a habit of hitting on me, so if uh, you were, you know, interested ... and wow does that sound conceited."
Spike smiled. "Just for the record, I'd rather have a friend than a boyfriend right now." Leaning in, Spike said conspiratorially, "Besides, don’t tell her, but Cordelia kind of scares me."
Xander laughed, visibly relaxing. "Honestly? She kind of scares me too."
~*~
Spike stopped in to the library after school and found his uncle pouring over some dusty, hard-bound book.
"Hey, Uncle Rupert."
Giles looked up and smiled. "William. How was your first day?"
Spike tensed at being called William, and glanced around to make sure no one had heard. He'd told his uncle a couple of times now that he wanted to be called Spike, not William. Seeing that no one was around, Spike relaxed, reminding himself that his uncle was trying, so he shouldn't get bent out of shape about him forgetting to call him Spike.
Hopping up on the counter next to his uncle, Spike said, "First off, it's Spike if you wouldn't mind."
Giles nodded. "Of course. I forgot."
Spike grinned. "No worries. Can still call me Will at home or whatnot."
Giles grinned in return. "You had a good first day, I take it?"
Spike shrugged. "Was alright. Made some friends, I think."
"Oh? That was quick. Who?"
"Xander Harris, mainly, but I met Willow, Oz and Cordelia too. Oh, and Harmony, but I can live without ever talking to her again."
Giles chuckled. "Harmony can be trying at times. Xander's a good boy, in spite of his complete and utter disregard for the English language. So are Willow and Oz. Cordelia is a force unto her own, but I think her heart's in the right place. Mostly."
Spike nodded. "Was about the impression I got of them, too." Spike cast his uncle a sideways look and added, "Oz invited me to the Bronze tonight to watch his band play."
"Sounds like fun."
Spike quirked an eyebrow. "You don't mind?"
Giles frowned. "Why would I mind?"
It had actually surprised Spike how well Giles had handled his punk transformation. Spike had walked into his uncle's flat one day bleached, pierced, and wearing some of the clothes he'd bought, fully prepared to have his first row with Giles over it. When his uncle saw him, he'd done a double take, appearing gobsmacked for a moment. He'd recovered quickly enough, but instead of yelling at Spike or ordering him to take out the piercings and return the clothes, his uncle sat him down and told him he understood the need to rebel in the face of his mum's and dad's deaths, not to mention being uprooted twice in the last four years.
It had been Spike's turn to be gobsmacked, then, and while he'd sat there wondering what dimension he'd fallen into, his uncle added that he would support Spike in whatever he needed to do to get through it, as long as it was legal. At the time, Spike hadn't known whether he was being patronized or not, but the look on his uncle's face had seemed sincere, so he decided to take him at face value. His uncle hadn't done anything since to make him think otherwise, either.
Spike shrugged. "Don't know. Just." Spike hesitated, then said quietly, "Mum never let me out on weeknights."
Giles' eyes widened briefly before he reached out and squeezed Spike's knee, saying, "You're a senior now, and eighteen besides. I don't expect you to sit in during the week. Just don't be too late, alright? And if it's going to be after, say, eleven on weeknights, midnight on weekends, I expect a call and a time estimate that's reasonable. Does that sound fair?"
Spike blinked, then smiled. "Ta."
~*~
Spike showed up at the Bronze that night decked out in leather pants and a black, mesh, see-through shirt, hair spiked, eyeliner in place. He'd even painted his nails black for the occasion. Now, though, he was second guessing himself, wondering if he'd overdone it and it would be obvious. Maybe they'd all laugh at him for trying too hard.
He was ready to turn tail and bolt when he heard his name shouted across the room. Turning back to the room, Spike scanned it and spotted Xander waving him down. Swallowing hard, Spike headed over and slid into the seat between Xander's and Willow's.
"You made it," Xander commented with a grin.
"'Course I did," Spike said. "Wouldn't miss free music, would I?"
Xander laughed. "They come on any minute."
Just then, Spike spotted a tall brunet across the room and zeroed in, realizing with dismay that it was Angel.
Cursing his luck, Spike leaned toward Xander and asked, "The elite hang out with the rest of us common folk in this town?"
Xander followed his gaze. "Yeah, well, there aren't a lot of good clubs around here that let teens in. You want to dance, you come to the Bronze."
Spike turned and looked at Xander. "Angel dances?"
Xander laughed. "Uh, no. Angel watches Buffy dance. Buffy's his girlfriend."
"Ah," Spike said, leaning back in his seat, wondering vaguely why it bothered him that Angel had a girlfriend. Not like he fancied the bloke. Good looks aside, Angel was a complete wanker from what Spike had seen so far.
Glancing around, Spike found Angel again despite himself, and watched as he laughed at a joke, then leaned down toward someone Spike couldn't see over the crowd. Suddenly, as if on cue, the crowd parted, giving Spike a perfect view of Angel kissing a petite blonde that Spike assumed was Buffy. A twinge of something curled through Spike's gut and he looked away, thankful Oz's band chose that moment to step on stage. A distraction from things he didn't want to think about was just what he needed.
The band kicked in and sure enough, Spike forgot all about Angel and Buffy for a while, getting into the music. The band wasn't bad. It wasn't the best Spike had ever heard, of course, but it was decent. Decent enough that after a couple of songs, Spike was itching to get out on the dance floor, try out some of the moves he'd practiced in his room at home while watching movies and dance shows.
Turning to Xander, he asked, "Want to?"
Xander looked away from the stage and asked, "What?"
"Want to dance?"
"With, uh ... with you?"
Spike chuckled at the deer caught in the headlights look on Xander's face. "Not with with me, no. Just out there at the same time, like."
Xander's face cleared and he smiled, but shook his head. "Sorry. I don't dance so much as flail about in an amusing fashion. Cordelia's banned me from stepping foot on the dance floor."
Spike frowned. "Last I checked, she's your girlfriend not your keeper, yeah?"
From the other side of Spike, Willow, who had been pretty much silent to that point, busy watching Oz and bouncing happily in her seat to the music, said, "Aw, come on Xander. Spike's right. Cordelia's just being Cordelia. She's not even here. It wouldn't hurt to go out there and have some fun. I'll come with!"
"I don't know, guys..." Xander said, trailing off, obviously wanting to, but not wanting to piss off Cordelia in the process.
Spike glanced over at Willow and shot her a conspiratorial look. They hopped to their feet and each grabbed one of Xander's arms, pulling him out of his chair and toward the dance floor.
"Hey! Wait! This is kidnapping! Let me go!" Xander shouted, trying to pull away, although Spike suspected it was half-hearted, given the grin on Xander's face.
Spike shook his head. "Not until I see you flail, pet."
Xander glowered as they stopped at an empty part of the dance floor. "I'm not your pet."
Spike grinned and leaned in, blaming his blatant flirting on the leather pants and nail polish he was sporting. It was easy to forget he'd been a shy near recluse just weeks ago when he was done up like he was.
"Would you rather I call you baby?"
Xander's eyes widened and color crept up his cheeks, even as his eyes dropped to Spike's lips. Spike sucked in a sharp breath and backed off, staring into Xander's eyes until they lifted to meet his. What Spike saw there surprised him. He was attracted to Xander, sure, but he hadn't realized the attraction went two ways. Xander hadn't given any indication he leaned that way too.
Spike decided he'd have to be more careful. He'd been telling the truth that afternoon when he'd said he'd rather have a friend than a boyfriend. This was the first time he was experiencing what it was like to have people he connected to and had fun with. The first time he really felt like he belonged somewhere. He didn't want to give all that up after only a day just to experiment with someone, especially someone already spoken for.
Finally Xander swallowed and croaked out, "No, pet's fine."
Next to them, Willow was already dancing, apparently oblivious to what was going on.
Spike nodded his head toward her. "Looks like Willow's got the idea. What say we give it a go?"
Still looking dubious at the prospect, Xander nodded anyway, and soon they were dancing and laughing and Xander was right, he did flail more than he actually danced, but Spike didn't mind at all, especially considering the ear to ear smile on Xander's face.
So of course, Angel chose that moment to pop up in front of them and ruin everything. At least, in Spike's opinion. Xander didn't seem to mind, although it was actually who Angel was with that Xander seemed happy to see.
"Buffy! Come to dance among the common folk?"
The blonde Spike had guessed correctly was Buffy rolled her eyes and punched Xander in the shoulder. "Yeah, right. You're not common folk, Xander."
Xander's grin widened.
Turning to Spike, Buffy asked, "Who's this?"
Spike opened his mouth to answer but Angel beat him to it. "That's Spike."
Buffy's smile disappeared and her eyes narrowed. "The jerk who made fun of your nickname?"
"Oi!" Spike said. "I apologized for that!"
Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and leveled her glare at Angel. "You didn't tell me that part."
"Well, I..." Angel trailed off, and glanced over at Spike.
Spike, for his part, grinned an 'I got you' grin, delighted to no end that he'd turned the tables on Angel.
"-;hadn't gotten around to it yet," Angel finished, lamely in Spike's opinion.
Buffy snorted, but seemed to shake off her irritation with him and smiled at Spike. "So you two kissed and made up?"
Spike's eyes widened and his gaze flew to Angel's, who looked just as horrified.
"I uh, wouldn't say that," Spike hedged, trying to get the thought of him and Angel kissing out of his head. Somehow, he just knew it'd be an earth shattering experience.
Next to Spike, Xander laughed and stepped forward, putting an arm around Buffy's shoulder as he said, "Ah Buffster, if you only knew of what you speak."
Buffy shot him a confused look. "What?"
Xander glanced over at Spike. "Can I?"
Spike shrugged, and even though he felt uncomfortable having his sexuality announced to Angel, said, "Sure. 'S not a secret."
"Spike's bi, Buff. I think the last thing you want him doing is kissing your man, making up or otherwise."
Spike could feel Angel's eyes boring into him but refused to look his way, not wanting to see the disgust he was sure would be written all over Angel's face. Buffy, on the other hand, looked intrigued by the idea.
"Oh? Oh! Are you dating anyone? Because I've got this friend. He's a sweet guy. He just got out of this relationship, though, so-"
"Yeah, I already suggested it, but Spike nixed the idea. Probably better to wait until Billy's done rebounding anyway."
"You want to set him up with Billy Ford?" Angel's sudden outburst caused the rest of them, Spike included, to look at him as if he'd grown another head.
"What's wrong with Billy?" Buffy finally asked.
Looking uncomfortable, Angel said, "I don't know. I just ... doubt he's Spike's type."
Intrigued, Spike asked, "Think you know my type, then?"
Angel shrugged. "Just figured you'd go for someone like Oz-" Willow made a noise and Angel hurried to add, "If he was single, I mean. You know, someone like you. Billy's pretty straight-laced."
"Maybe I like straight-laced. Can be fun, getting someone like that to let loose. Never know what's hidden underneath," Spike said with a wink, deciding he really must be channeling attitude through his leather pants. It was the only explanation why he wasn't blushing and stumbling over himself to get out of there and away from the conversation taking place.
"Jesus," Angel said, wiping a hand over his face. "Look. I don't care what you do behind closed doors or who you do it with, but don't give me a visual, okay?"
Spike tensed. "First off, wanker, wasn't trying to give you a visual. Second, who says I was talking about that. Could have just meant loosen him up on the dance floor or whatnot."
Angel made a disgusted sound and said, "Yeah. Right. Come on, Buffy, let's get out of here."
Angel started to turn and leave, hand on Buffy's arm, but Buffy jerked free and said, "I don't think so."
"Buffy-" Angel started.
"Don't 'Buffy' me," she replied. "You're the one being an ass."
Irritation flashed through Angel's eyes, but his voice was cajoling when he said, "Come on, Buffy."
Buffy crossed her arms over her chest and said, "No. I'm spending the evening with my friends. Go find yours. I'll see you tomorrow."
Angel glared at her for a second, then turned his glare on Spike before storming off alone.
After Angel left, Spike whistled low and Buffy punched him. "Ow!" Spike exclaimed, glaring at her while rubbing his upper arm. She had a wicked punch.
"That's for antagonizing Angel."
Spike huffed, but decided he liked her. They all stood around talking for a while, then started dancing again.
At one point, Spike felt someone watching him and looked out across the crowd. He found Angel standing off to one side, arms crossed over his chest, just staring at them, a tall black guy at his side who Spike hadn't seen him with before. Spike's and Angel's eyes locked and Spike felt something skitter down his spine. Whether it was apprehension or excitement, he wasn't sure. Either way, he was enjoying himself too much to let Angel get to him. Turning away, Spike lost himself in the music and his new friends, determined not to give Angel another thought.
Unfortunately, that was easier said than done.
Continued here.