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"Mr. Giles is insane! He’s an insane little man in tweed…"

Buffy brought a hand to her head in an attempt to stifle the god awful pounding that had begun as soon as she walked out of the Counselor’s office. She absently stirred around the food-like sludge on her tray and swallowed the vomit that had risen in her throat.

"Since when can the school actually force you to spend time with losers?!" Cordelia continued to rant to no one in particular.

"Since graduating depends on it," Buffy grumbled.

"I don’t see how you could be failing American Lit, Buffy…" Angel spoke up slipping an arm around her waist in a sign of support, "it’s an easy class."

Cecily giggled. "Well, Angel, our little Buffy isn’t exactly known for being the biggest brain. Probably too busy snoring to actually pay attention."

On the first day of her Freshman year at Sunnydale High, Buffy was given the opportunity to call the large, round table, off towards the back of the cafeteria ‘home’.

Puberty and her cousin Kate’s endless stacks of Seventeen magazines, had obviously been good to her, because suddenly Cecily Holmes, the same Cecily Holmes who’d spent the three previous years in Junior High ignoring her was at her side asking her for fashion tips. And Liam Connelly, the same Liam Connelly with his angelic face that she’d openly lusted after since the third grade, was suddenly making eyes at her –

In one day her whole world had turned upside down: allegiances shifted, and she tossed aside the three people who knew her better than anyone to be able to sit at a certain table when the lunch bell rang.

Buffy let out a hollow laugh at the girl’s comment, discreetly rolling her eyes. Lately, Cecily and the trendy table (as much as inanimate objects could) were beginning to grate on her nerves…

"What can I say, Cece – you know I’m cranky if I don’t get my full ten hours."

Angel looked at her thoughtfully. "But, you seemed to know the material pretty well when you helped me study for that poetry unit test."

Buffy chuckled giving a tiny shrug. "It was writing out all of those notes for you that did it. Must’ve totally stuck in my brain."

"Yeah, well, whatever," Cordy began, taking a sip of her Diet Coke, "I still say, it’s cruel and unusual punishment to make William Hall be your study buddy."

Emerald eyes decided to take a break from focusing on the watery meatloaf on the cafeteria tray, and shifted their attention towards the social leper colony just over Cecily’s shoulder. Spike – er – William, Xander, and Willow were laughing, more than likely at her. The Princess who’d probably end up receiving her diploma in the Idiot-Hell that was summer school, because she couldn’t even stay conscious long enough to take a test over Walt Whitman…

Why the hell is Willie laughing anyway?! He should be just as miserable as I am, miserable-er even!

Miserable-er?

Buffy frowned at her inner fake-word usage, and shook her head, snapping back to reality the second Cecily’s prissy accent cut in.

"Huh? Did you say something?" she asked.

"Yeah," Cecily said, mildly annoyed. "I asked if you’d seen Riley. That boy never misses a bloody lunch…"

"Um – Anya said something about she and Riley having to forgo lunch to finish up a Chemistry assignment in the lab."

"Oh," the Brit sighed. "Why didn’t he tell me earlier?"

"It’s Riley we’re talking about. I’m surprised he can remember how to tie his shoes every morning," Angel snickered earning a laugh from the rest of the group.

Buffy joined in, laughing the same mindless automaton laugh she had that morning when William was rammed into the flagpole for the millionth time. Her mind was too busy focusing on why Willie was all smiley and seemingly happy than to make an honest decision on whether or not Angel’s joke was funny. Then again, knowing Angel, it was probably just south of completely lame –

He shouldn’t be smiling…

**

"I was thinking, how about I tutor you? I’ve got an A, I know The Great Gatsby like the back of my hand, you’d learn in no time." Leaning against his hot, red little Mustang convertible, Angel pulled Buffy closer, her body now flush against his, and smiled sweetly. "Plus, no ‘Flagpole Willie’ to put up with."

Stretching upwards a bit, she planted a series of feathery kisses on his lips.

"For some reason, I don’t see a whole lot of studying being done in that scenario."

"What?" he asked innocently giving her ass a light squeeze, "Are you questioning my teaching abilities…?"

"Mmm-hmm."

The loud cough that came from behind the pair instantly put a stop to the kissing and ruined the moment they were in completely.

Her face dropped at the sight of him; the curly brillo-pad he called hair, plain, buttoned down brown shirt, baggy blue jeans, and impeccable scowl had sent her ‘good-down-low tickle’, scurrying away.

God, he’s like a walking cold shower…

Angel frowned. "Can we help you?"

"I’m here for Buffy," William sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Might as well get this first lesson out of the way."

"Oh, come on, Willie! It’s 3:00, I just had six hours of books, can’t I take it easy for a few before this nightmare begins…?"

Eyes closed tightly, he breathed in deeply and resisted the urge to scream. "If you hadn’t spent so much time ‘taking it easy’, this nightmare wouldn’t be happening, now would it?"

A little taken aback by William’s tone, Buffy hung her head briefly and shrugged out of her boyfriend’s arms.

"And don’t call me ‘Willie’," he added.

"Fine," she gritted her teeth. "I’ll meet you at my house."

"Meet me? Why don’t we just ride there together?"

The blonde scoffed and dramatically brought a hand to her chest as if she were absolutely horrified.

"Because I don’t ride anywhere with you."

Angel’s hands slipped onto her shoulders, lightly massaging them. "Go, Buffy. The faster this is over, the better."

She turned, lips forming into a pout and let out the loudest whine she could muster. "But he owns a Volvo!"

**

An amused smile graced William’s lips as he watched her throw open the passenger side door like there was no tomorrow and run for the front porch of the Summers’ home as if her very life depended on it…

Mix in a trip to the dentist with a little rectal surgery and you have the painful equivalent to the torture that was the approximately thirty minute car ride over. The deafening silence between them was only broken once, when Buffy took it upon herself to rummage through his glove box, discovering his tape collection.

"Boys II Men?!" she shot him a look suppressing a laugh. "You have got to be kidding."

"What’s wrong with Boys II Men?" he asked honestly. "They’ve got good harmonies."

Buffy snorted as she slipped the tape back into the compartment,

"Guess you’re not kidding."



"Alright," she said gruffly, opening the door, "lets get this over with."

William narrowed his eyes and made a small clicking sound with his teeth as he reluctantly followed the girl inside. "Right."

"Buffy is that you?!"

"Uh, yeah mom!" she shouted and grabbed William’s arm dragging him towards the stairs. The last thing she needed was for her mom to find him here and want to get all-nostalgic…

"Come on before she…"

"Hi sweetheart," the chipper voice of Joyce Summers broke in. Shoulders slumped in utter defeat and heaving a great sigh, Buffy slowly turned to face her mother. Her grip so strong on William, she could have very well been cutting off his circulation and a pained smile on her face –

"Hi, mom."

He smiled in earnest and gave a small wave of his hand to the woman who’d been like a second mother to him so long ago. "Hi, Mrs. Summers."

The blonde teen glared at him, grip now so tight she was leaving prints of her fingers on his flesh. Who the hell gave him permission to speak?!

"William," Joyce smiled softly. "Gosh, I haven’t seen you in…"

"Four years," he finished for her.

The elder Summers shook her head in that disbelieving way adults do so well when they take a moment to marvel at the miracle of growing up. "Well, you have certainly grown into a handsome young man. Isn’t he handsome, Buffy."

She rolled her eyes, snickering. "Swoon-worthy."

"Oh, I almost forgot! I brought in a new African piece from the gallery today! I was just hanging it in the kitchen…"

"Really?" he asked wrenching his poor arm free from Buffy’s vice like grasp and followed Joyce towards the kitchen. "What kind of piece?"

"What kind of piece?" Buffy half mocked, half grumbled as she slowly trailed behind the two. "Kiss ass…"

Her mother proudly stood in front of the African mask that now hung on the wall directly over the kitchen sink. "So, what do you think?" she asked beaming.

Taking in the sight of the menacing painted, glow-y red, demon eyes, and sharp wooden teeth, Buffy made a face, slowly backing up towards the door.

"It’s um…very…"

"Fascinating!" William stared at absolutely wide-eyed and entranced. He inched closer to get a better look. "What part of Africa is it from?"

"Nigeria," Joyce sighed happily. "Doesn’t it just go perfectly with this room…"

Buffy quirked a brow. "Mom, it’s angry at the room. It wants the room to suffer." Exasperated, she reached out for William’s arm once again and yanked him to her side. "Anyway, if you need us, we’ll be upstairs…"

"Upstairs…?" Joyce crossed her arms disapprovingly.

Buffy frowned. "Studying, mom! I mean…" She gave William a once over, face twisting up as if she’d just gotten a whiff of something horrible like horse manure or un-flushed toilets in a girls bathroom, "eww…"

**

"So, what first teach?" Buffy asked, dramatically flopping down on her bed. William remained frozen in the doorway; this room hadn’t changed one bit…

Okay, so maybe some of the truly dated items like New Kids on the Block posters and Jonathan Taylor Thomas BOP pinups were gone, but other than that, everything was exactly the same. The same wallpaper, the same window he used to climb in and out of – the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile at the sudden barrage of memories:

The all night pillow fight that resulted in a broken lamp…

The footie pajamas and stuffed pig Mr. Gordo Buffy just couldn’t sleep without…

The peaceful and innocent snuggling right before they both drifted off…

"Hello, earth to Willie!"

That quickly cancelled the trip down memory lane.

"Are we gonna get started or what," she rattled off, seemingly ignoring him, "because I do have an elsewhere I’d like to be."

"Don’t call me Willie," he snapped, taking a seat on the floor, "and it might help if you took out a book or two," he said sardonically, smirking. "Maybe even a piece paper and some sort of writing implement."

With another roll of her eyes, Buffy opened her backpack and dumped the contents on her bed. "Can’t see why you’re single, Willie; what girl doesn’t love repressed British wit?"

"Have you read The Great Gatsby?" he asked with a sigh, ignoring her comment.

"The ‘Great’ who?"

"Gatsby."

Five times in the fifth grade… "Nope," Buffy lied, yawning, "was I supposed to?"

William shut his eyes tightly and took in a long, deep breath. "Three fourths of this final is over The Great Gatsby," he said very slowly as if he were speaking to a moron.

She shrugged. "Is there a movie I can watch? Or, hey, is it a part of one of those books on tape series?"

"Look, I know I’m cutting in on your valuable shagging time with that magnificent poofter you’ve got for a boyfriend, but did it ever occur in that empty head of yours, the more you cooperate the faster this little lesson will be over? And the faster you’ll be able to hunt Angel down and continue the bloody hump-fest that started in the parking lot!" William shouted, nostrils flaring. The little vein in his neck pulsated and Buffy almost swore she could hear the "cha-cha" as she watched it.

Tearing her eyes away from the ‘dancing vein’, she glared at him and clenched her teeth as she finally caught on to what he’d just said. "What makes you think me and Angel…"

"Oh, come on, Buffy! Look at you!"

She titled her head to one side and gave him a good pointed look before she turned a scrutinizing eye towards her outfit. The off-the-shoulder, form fitting, cute little vintage, forest green ‘Camp Can-Do’ T-shirt, and black mini topped off with a brand new pair of Mary Janes… nope, nothing wrong with this picture…

"Who the fuck do you think you are?! She cried angrily. "Because I’m not covered from head-to-toe in some baggy nightmare, I’m automatically a big ho?!"

"I didn’t mean…"

"Didn’t mean what?!"

William forced down the gigantic lump in his throat and hung his head in shame. He really hadn’t meant to say that – out loud anyway…

"I’ll have you know, ‘Saint William’, Angel and I have never ‘shagged’!" she bit out. "I’ve never shagged anyone!"

A painful, ugly awkward silence filled the room and it seemed like an eternity had passed before William finally said:

"Never?"

Buffy frowned and repeated. "Never."

He sighed, still absolutely stunned by her revelation; The Great Gatsby apparently forgotten for now…





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