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 50

Spike was please to find that he did feel somewhat better when he woke up. Okay, so his back still hurt like hell - he reckoned it would for ages yet - but he’d lost the underlying nausea that he’d suffered from.

In deference to sharing a room with Rich, he’d slept in a pair of shorts. Spike didn’t realise that Rich was awake until he heard him gasp as he turned his back to him, when he was pulling his bedclothes straight.

“Bloody ‘ell.”

Spike turned to look at him, “Wot?”

“Yer back. God, ‘ave yer seen it? I’ve never seen a bruise like it, and there’s a bloody great lump across it too.”

“I don’t ‘ave to see it to know how bad it must look,” replied Spike, “The lump’s a haematoma. Apparently I’ll probably ‘ave to ‘ave ultrasound treatment to get rid of it,anyway, that's wot the doctor told Rupert.

Rich was, for once, lost for words – well, for a minute or two.

“Stand over there against the wall with yer back to me,” said Rich.

“Why?”

“’Cause I’m gonna take some photos of it. That way you’ve got evidence if we can prove that it was that wot’s ‘is name, Fairy?”

Spike cracked up laughing, “Angel, his name’s Angel,” he gasped.

“Angel? Fairy? Same diff,” replied Rich, “ So go on then, get over there and pull yer shorts down a bit so I can see the edge of the bruise.”

Spike shook his head but went and stood where Rich wanted him to. He could see the sense of it but unless someone came forward, whoever did it would never be prosecuted. Spike had spoken to a cop when he was in the hosptal and Rupert had called yesterday to see if any progress had been made. Basically he was told that nothing could be done without a witness.

Rich took several photographs with his digital camera and showed them to Spike on its screen. Spike couldn’t believe how bad it looked. The doctors had said that the blow to his head had been a glancing one, probably due to the fact that he was already falling to the floor. He broke out in a cold sweat thinking of what could have happened if he’d been hit on the head first.

Ooooooo

Oz collected Rich and Spike later that morning and took them to the Bronze. The others were already waiting for them when they arrived.

“Did yer bring the camera?” asked Rich as soon as he saw Buffy.

“Hi, Rich. Yes, I’ve got it. I put it over there.” She pointed to a spot near to the stage.

“Oh wow! It’s got a tripod too. That’s even better,” enthused Rich and he immediately went to familiarize himself with it.

“Hey you,” said Buffy softly, going up to Spike, “You look a little better today.”

Spike just stood and gazed at her. He still couldn’t believe he was actually dating Buffy Summers. He almost expected a flock of flying pigs to whiz by or the sky to fall in or something every time he was with her.

“What?” she asked as he continued to stare.

“Nothin’ pet, I just can’t believe ‘ow lucky I am to be with you,” he whispered as he bent down to kiss her.

Buffy giggled. “Yeah Spike, you should make the most of your good fortune. So kiss me again already.”

“Ahem! If you’ve quite finished, we do ‘ave a job to do this afternoon,” joked Rich.

“All right, all right,” said Spike, “God, anyone would think that you were our manager.” He kissed Buffy again and walked towards the stage.

“Now that’s a good idea,” replied Rich with a grin, “You wait, when I’ve finished with this tape you’ll be needing a manager.”

Willow and Xander hadn’t seen Spike since the attack and both were shocked to see the row of sutures behind his ear. But it was when Spike walked up the steep steps to get onto the stage that they realised just how badly he’d been battered. He climbed them very slowly, holding onto the handrail tightly, eyes narrowed a bit at the pain.

“Jeez Spike, are you sure you’re up to this?” asked Xander.

“Yeah mate, it’s not so bad when I’m just standing still and I can lean on the stand to the mic a bit too,” replied Spike.

He was determined not to miss this gig but he was annoyed that whoever had hit him – he still couldn’t quite bring himself to think that it was definitely Angel – had made it so it wasn’t going to be as much fun as it would have been if he hadn’t been hurting.

Pete, Joey and Oz were already on the stage and were starting to play. Pete and Oz were tuning their guitars. After a couple of minutes they started to play the songs but without Spike providing the vocals just yet. They wanted to get the sound of the instruments right first.

When they were ready for Spike to start he stepped up to the mic and sang a few lines before he stopped.

“What’s wrong? That sounded fine,” said Oz.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I saw Rich pointing the bleedin’ camera at me an’ it put me off. I don’t think this is gonna work.”

Oz chuckled. Spike was always nervous at the sound check and now he had the added thing of Rich recording them to freak him out. It was a shame that it couldn’t have been done in front of the crowd tomorrow night, but he agreed with Rich that it ought to be just them with no crowd noise.

Spike heard Oz’s snicker and turned to glare at him, “’S all right for you, you’re not the one standing at the front,” he grumbled.

“Look Spike, relax, mate. I’m not even taping yer yet. I’m just setting it up so I know the best place for it to be and how much I ‘ave to zoom in and out to get you all in shot.”

Spike just cursed quietly under his breath.

“Don’t worry about him, Rich,” shouted Pete, “He’s always like this at the sound check. Not sure why he wigs out when the room’s empty yet loves it when the place is full. You’d think it’d be the other way round, wouldn’t you?”

“Hey!” snapped Spike, “Standing right ‘ere, yeah?” Then his face split into a wide smile. “Nice to know my band mates ‘ave got me sussed out, isn’t it? I don’t know why it’s easier with a crowd there but it is. I feel a bit daft standing up ‘ere with just the four of you down there.”

“Shut up and get on wiv it!” said Rich, “Just ignore me, I won’t be filming until you guys give me the okay.”

“I wish I’d got my soddin’ jacket,” grumbled Spike, “I’ve never started singing without it on.”

“The girls always like it better when you take it off anyway,” joked Joey, giving a little drum roll.

Everybody laughed at that. Spike grinned and winked at Buffy, “Come on then, let’s get started.”

Ooooooo

The band started to play, stopping every now and then to make adjustments. Despite what he’d told them, Rich was filming them already. He caught them laughing and joking together as Spike started to chill out the longer he was up on the stage. He’d gotten Spike’s wink on camera. Buffy was standing next to him and so Spike had unwittingly grinned and winked right in to the lens.

Rich was impressed with how the Dingoes sounded and how they played ninety percent their own material. He hadn’t taped any of the couple of covers that they’d run through. He loved music and went to as many gigs as he could, and most of them were unsigned bands. The Dingoes could easily hold their own against the ones he’d heard in London.

Spike had a habit of holding onto the mic with both hands whilst it was on its stand and leaning on it, usually with one knee bent. Rich thought it looked good on camera and was glad the camera also picked up the line of sutures too. Little things like that might help to get them noticed. Rich had barely slept last night, his head full of ideas of what he could do for the Dingoes. He hadn’t told them yet but he was going to design a website for them as well as putting the video on sites like Youtube.

After about an hour everyone was happy. The band was satisfied they’d gotten the sound spot on and Rich was pleased with the footage he’d shot. Just as they were finishing up, Ron, the owner of the Bronze, came up to them with several dishes full of spicy wings and fries.

“Here you go, guys, help yourselves,” he said, putting them down on a table, “That sounded great. I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to perform, Spike. I couldn’t believe it when Oz told me what had happened.”

“Cheers, Ron,” replied Spike, “No way was I going to miss it.”

“I’ll just go and get you some sodas. Coke okay?”

He was met with a chorus of ‘yes’s’.

“Ron must have sold all of the tickets for tomorrow night if he’s giving away food,” said Joey, “This is a first!

“Hey, I heard that,” laughed Ron, coming back with the drinks, “I was thinking if you guys would mind doing two short sets instead of one long one?” He’d noticed how sore Spike was but knew the band wouldn’t ask for any favours.

Spike resisted the urge to kiss him! He hadn’t been sure that he would have managed to do the full session without a break.

“Um…wot do yer reckon?” he asked casually.

“That’s be cool,” said Pete, “It means that we’ll get to party a bit too!”

“So what time do you want us to play?” asked the ever-practical Oz.

“I was thinking of nine o’clock and then again at eleven. The DJ can fill in the gaps and do the countdown to midnight.”

“That sounds good,” said Spike.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it and I’ll see you all tomorrow,” said Ron, getting up and going back to his office.

The friends chatted amiably as they ate. Spike had one arm draped around Buffy’s shoulders. He glanced at the others and realised that he now had some great friends. Looking at Rich made him miss James and his face clouded a little. He wished he could’ve gotten to see the Dingoes play. He met Rich’s gaze and saw that he was thinking the same thing, then Rich smiled at him and the sombre moment passed.

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