Changing Lives by Mabel Marsters

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Summary: They were just a bunch of kids about to start summer vacation, before returning to Sunnydale High as seniors. Buffy Summers wasn't in the Cordelia Chase elite group, but she had a good circle of friends. William Pratt had no one: bullied mercilessly, bookish, quiet and a straight 'A' student. One day, fate steps in and a decision he makes changes his life forever...

Author's Notes: Thanks as ever to Carol for betaing it and to Jo in NY for previewing it for me until I could get it posted.-------------I wrote this for my pal Kirsten who is not a fan of the Buffyverse so I set them in my universe instead so she could read it without the back story of the series!!

Rating: PG-13


Chapter 38

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Spike was up early. He’d had trouble sleeping, as today was the day he’d been looking forward to for so long. By the time Rupert had risen from his bed, Spike had tidied the whole apartment, apart from Rupert’s bedroom, and had gotten breakfast ready. Rupert was relieved to see that it just consisted of putting cereal and toast on the table. The apartment had smelt of burnt bacon for ages after the last time.

“Morning, Spike. Is there something I should be worried about?” he asked.

“Mornin’. No, nothin’, why?”

Rupert swept an arm out, “All this. Are you sure you’re not trying to butter me up?” he smiled.

“Won’t do it again if that’s all the thanks I get for it,” said Spike with a grin, handing him his cup of tea, “so make the most of it.”

They were just clearing the breakfast plates away when the telephone rang. Rupert answered it.

“Hello?”

“Oh hello, Joyce, how are you?”

Spike pricked up his ears - Buffy’s mom – he prayed she wasn’t calling because Buffy was ill or wanted to bail.

“Oh, yes, I understand. It certainly makes sense. I’ll let him know. Thanks, Joyce. ‘Bye.”

Rupert put the phone down and turned to see Spike looking at him anxiously.

“It’s okay, relax,” he said, knowing exactly what was worrying Spike, “Joyce just suggested that you can stay over at their house tonight if you’d like to. She’s making up the guest room for you.”

Spike was dumbstruck.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you want to stay there?” asked Rupert. “I’ll never figure this boy out. Perhaps he likes Cordelia after spending the evening with her yesterday?”

“Um…no…that’s great. Stay over at Buffy’s. Yeah, that’s cool,” stuttered Spike.

“I can always call back?”

“No!”

Rupert smiled, “So, the crush is still aimed at Buffy.” “Joyce just thought it would save you having to wait for a ride home with Oz as he will have the equipment to clear. She knows you have a ten thirty curfew and she’s happy for Buffy to be in at that time also.”

“Okay,” said Spike. He had hoped the curfew might have been lifted, “No worries, only a couple more weeks until the month is up.”

Ooooooo

Spike stared at himself in the mirror.

“Sod it!” he growled and he tugged the t-shirt back over his head.

He threw it onto the bed where it joined a pile already tried on and discarded. The only problem was there were no more shirts left in his closet.

“Spike! Are you nearly ready?” called Rupert, “You’re going to be late.”

“Yeah, stop hassling me. I know what soddin’ time it is,” snapped Spike.

Rupert had to bite his lip to stop from laughing out loud. “Oh yes, Spike has got it bad.”

He’d been in his room for ages, after having the longest shower humanly possible, and he’d still to walk out of it. And this was from a boy who was normally dressed in five minutes flat. He hadn’t even taken as long as this the night before.

Spike stared at the bed in desperation. He closed his eyes, rummaged through the pile with one hand and grabbed a shirt. He opened his eyes and looked at it.

“That’ll do,” he muttered, putting it on. It was the Kaiser Chiefs t-shirt that he’d worn to the Karaoke in London. “Oh, I dunno.”

It was sleeveless and he remembered how Buffy had been less than impressed by his tattoo when she’s seen him at the Bronze on the first night he’d gotten wasted with Angel. He was about to pull it off again when Rupert shouted to him.

“For goodness sake, Spike, come out of your room. I’d better give you a ride over there now, you haven’t got time to walk.”

Spike glanced at his watch. “Shit.” He looked at himself as he flung on his duster, shrugging his shoulders to settle it in position. “James, mate, you were right – this jacket is way cool.”

He picked up the bag with his overnight things in it and went to find Rupert, who got up from where he was sitting as he saw him.

“Are you sure you’re ready? Do you need a little longer?” he joked.

“Ha bloody ha.”

Rupert put his arm around Spike’s shoulder. “Come on then, let’s go.”

Ooooooo

Soon they were sitting in the lounge of Buffy’s house waiting for her to appear from upstairs.

“I’m sure she’ll be down soon, Spike. Her timing’s always a little out of synch with the rest of us,” said Joyce.

“Yeah, you need to add on a half hour,” said Spike, adding, “Xander told me” when he saw her quizzical look.

He was regretting declining a hot drink; it would have given him something to do with his hands. As it was, he fiddled with the strap on his wristwatch. His head whipped up as he heard Buffy come down the stairs. She was wearing her hair up in a similar style to the previous evening but instead of the long formal dress, she had on a knee length dark blue suede skirt with a white and pale blue blouse.

“Hey,” she said a little shyly as he stared at her intensely.

“Hey,” he replied, rapidly losing the power of speech where Buffy was concerned.

“Shall we go?”

“Yeah,” said Spike, standing up.

“Do you want a ride over there? I don’t mind,” offered Rupert.

“No!” they said in unison.

They looked at each other and laughed.

“Thanks Rupert,” said Spike, “but we’re okay walking.”

“Have a good time and don’t forget Spike’s curfew,” called Joyce as they left.

“We won’t, Mom. See you later,” replied Buffy.

Ooooooo

They walked along in an uncomfortable silence for a while. They were meeting the others at The Bronze as Xander had offered to help the Dingoes with their gear. Willow and Oz were rapidly becoming inseparable.

“Buffy,” said Spike seriously.

She looked at him, eyes wide, the tone of his voice making her worry about what he was going to say.

“Yes?”

“Um…you looked…beautiful last night…er…not that you don’t look great tonight…I mean you always look great…” suddenly Spike was wishing he had actually lost the power of speech after babbling like that. He blushed furiously. “Shit!” “Um…wot I mean is…well…I’m sorry that I wasn’t with you last night too, okay?”

Buffy’s worries that he’d actually really enjoyed his date with Cordelia faded slightly.

“You looked like you were having a good time.”

He put his head down and stared at his feet as they walked along.

“She upped the stakes of the deal. She told me she’d…um…cause me trouble if I didn’t act like I wanted to be with her.” “God, that sounds lame even to me!”

“It’s okay,” said Buffy, still not sounding totally convinced.

“No, it’s not,” he said, stopping and taking hold of her hand. He gazed into her eyes, “It’s you that I wanted to go with, only you. It’s always been you, okay? God, how could I want to go with anyone else? You’re perfect.”

“Wow,” said Buffy slowly, “perfect, huh?”

He grinned, “Well apart from…”

“Don’t you dare!” she interrupted.

“…always interrupting and …”

She thumped his arm.

“…being violent, then yes, perfect.”

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from her face. He moved a little closer, and then he chickened out.

“Um, come on, we don’t want to be late,” he said, giving her hand a little tug.

Buffy let out a breath she didn’t even realise she was holding.

“God, I so thought that he was going to kiss me then.”

They walked along in a now very companionable silence, Spike keeping hold of her hand.

Ooooooo

They spotted Willow as soon as they walked into the Bronze. The fact she was wearing a bright yellow fluffy sweater and brown jeans made her actually impossible to miss.

“God, I hope Oz hasn’t dyed his hair to match,” said Spike, recalling how it had been dyed red to match Willow’s skirt when he’d seen the Dingoes play last time.

“He does have a habit of doing that, but I think even he’d shy away from yellow,” giggled Buffy; “At least you stick to the same colour all the time.”

Spike self-consciously ran a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, boring, that’s me.”

“I can’t believe that we’ve got boyfriends who do more hair care than we do,” said Buffy.

“Boyfriends?” asked Spike, his eyebrows nearly disappearing as they went so high.

“Oh no, did I really say that aloud?” thought Buffy, “Er, well you’re boys and our friends and …”

“Do you want me to be?” asked Spike, having gotten his eyebrows back under control.

“What?”

“Your…um…boyfriend?”

Buffy looked up at him and slowly nodded. Spike leaned in close to her and this time he didn’t chicken out. He put his hand on her shoulder; she could feel it trembling slightly, and very gently kissed her lips.

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