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Rating: varies G to R
Posted on: Monday, June 6th 2005 @ 9:06pm

The Sunnydale Files



Welcome to Sunnydale, California. Home of Sunnydale High School. Home of the Bronze. Home of a rather large collection of British folk, for such a small town that is. Students will be students, teachers will be teachers. Life, just this side of ordinary. The only thing missing is the vampires and demons, which, sadly don't live here. Seeing how it's an AU. These are the Sunnydale Files, a non-stop storyline consisting of smaller segments. Times goes rather slowly here, but isn't that the way school always is? Much like in the American high school you remember there will be geeks, bad boys, popular girls who wouldn't give you the light of day (let alone date you), cute teachers, and of course a few gay people. Because you've got to have gay people. Just ask Xander Harris.

The Cast
arranged alphabetically. if there is a new character, they will be added.

Angel: Mysterious man in his early twenties that hangs out at the Bronze. Appears to be stalking Buffy. Xander doesn't care for him.

Larry Blaisdell: Captain of the football team. Torments William and slaps Buffy's butt on regular intervals. (thank you [info] tangodoodles for the last name)

William Bradshaw: Is often seen with ink stains on his fingers and his journal never leaves his side. Is teased and pushed around by the popular crowd. Has a crush on Xander. Spike's twin brother. British.

"Spike" Bradshaw: Usually found skipping class and smoking in the school parking lot. Enjoys tormenting those around him. Can't stand Xander. William's twin brother. Friends with Oz. British.

Winifred "Fred" Burkle: Spends most of her time in the chemistry labs. Tends to babble about things people don't understand. Is possibly crushing on Cordelia.

Cordelia Chase: Rules the school. Rivals with Buffy. Never dates, unless it's to her advantage. Loves her cell phone more than anything. Captain of the cheerleading squad.

Riley Finn: Owns the Sundance Club. Calls Xander 'kid' and appears to very much dislike Xander's father when he is brought into the conversation.

Rupert Giles: Librarian. Is forced to endure many hours of listening to teenagers. Believes the computer has a vendetta against him. Tries to avoid Ethan at all costs. Is Buffy and Willow's counselor. British.

Charles Gunn: Teaches Civics and World History. Second youngest on the staff, by two months. Most of the students think he's a former gang member. Seems to be stalking Wesley. Is the counselor for Cordelia, Xander, and Oz.

Xander Harris: Class-clown. Has abusive parents. Is openly gay everywhere except for at home. Is best friends with Buffy, Willow, and Jesse. Has a crush on Spike. Is possibly being stalked by William.

Harmony Kendall: Ditzy follower of Cordelia. Thinks Oz is in love with her.

Jonathon Levinson: Tends to stick to the background. Often teased by others. Cordelia's Minion.

Mr. Lorne: Art teacher. Dresses in bright green lounge suits. Wears a raspberry berat while painting. Calls everyone "sweetie" or "sugarplum", unless he likes you then you get your own pet name. Is Larry's counselor.

Jesse McNally: Another class-clown. Best friends with Xander, Buffy, and Willow. Has a crush on Cordelia.

Graham Miller: The bouncer at the Sundance Club. Appears to be Riley's lover.

Lilah Morgan: Math teacher. Appears to be even more cruel than Ethan. Likes to embarrass her students and send them to a place of inner panic. Snyder's only moment of intelligence appears to be in not giving her a student to be counselor for.

Daniel "Oz" Osbourne: Member of a band. Hardly ever talks, and usually looks stoned. Suspiciously spends most of lunch in the back of his van. Is oddly intrigued by William's hands. Friends with Spike.

Ethan Rayne: Chemistry teacher. Enjoys giving students detention. He is the counselor for Spike and William. Follows Rupert around, flirting. British.

Willow Rosenberg: Computer geek. Tends to babble. Spends most of her time in the library. Admires Rupert. Has no romantic interests. Likes nearly everyone, except Cordelia.

Principal Snyder: The Principal of Sunnydale High. Has a vendetta against Joyce Summers. Considers students to be below weasels in the evolutionary chain.

Buffy Summers: Headstrong, with a habit of getting what she wants no matter the consequences. Hangs out in the library with Willow and annoys Rupert. Is being stalked by Angel, but appears to have better things to do than date.

Joyce Summers: Buffy's mother. Is very into helping out the school and head of the PTA.

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: English teacher. Is youngest member of the staff. Often stutters. Is forced to fend off the majority of the female students, while being stalked by Charles. Is the counselor for Harmony, Jonathon, and Jesse. British.

File 1
Attack of the British

"Is it just me, or does it seem like the British are invading our humble little town?" Xander Harris asked as he sat down at the lunch table. California sun shone brightly overhead, causing the barely-there red highlights to stand out in his hair. "It's bad enough we have to deal with Mr. Giles and the Bradshaw twins. Now we have Mr. Rayne and Mr. Wyndham-Pryce, as well? What is up with that?"

"I think you're overreacting." Buffy Summers said simply, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder. She smirked as a few male eyes drifted over to stare at her exposed shoulder.

"Yeah." Willow Rosenberg grinned and heaved a sweet sigh. "I think it's cute. Mr. Rayne obviously has a thing for Mr. Giles. You don't think it's possible he came all the way from England for him, do you?"

"I think you spend too much time reading romance novels." Xander tsked. "You're suppose to be the smart one here." The only male at the table looked around the outdoor cafeteria. "Where's Jesse?"

"He had to stay after class with Mr. Gunn." Buffy replied. "Apparently, it's not a good idea to insult the Civics teacher, especially one as intimidating as Mr. Gunn." Buffy paused, before snickering. "It was rather funny to see him try and get out of it, though. You know Jesse, he can't shut up to save his life."

"Mr. Gunn will get over it." Xander said. "He's cool like that."

"How is it you are the only person in the whole school that gets along with that man?" Buffy asked, sipping her diet cola.

"Dashing good looks? Wonderful sense of humor? What's not to like?" Xander asked with a wink and a shrug, before he went back to people watching.

"Yeah, but what about you?" Buffy countered.

"Buffy!" Willow exclaimed, before giggling.

"Whatever." Xander said dismissively. The two girls followed his line of sight. In the student parking lot, a figure stood. Bleached blonde hair looked radioactive in the sunlight and a black leather duster flapped around as the figure made figure eights while smoking. The smoke drifted in the wind, actually making it's way to the benches that they were seated in.

"I'll never understand why he wears a coat in California." Willow said honestly.

"Who cares? It looks amazing on him." Xander sighed, resting his cheek on his upraised hand, his dark eyes following the other student's habits.

"Willow, don't even attempt to understand the mind of the naughty Bradshaw twin." Buffy grinned. "This is the guy who voluntarily calls himself Spike, after all. The guy that managed to pass every class last year, despite never attending."

"And the guy that despises the ground I walk on." Xander added with a forlorn expression.

"Oh, stop." Buffy ordered. She pushed his carefully wrapped peanut butter sandwich toward him. "Eat. Forget about Spike, and eat." She waited until Xander had taken a bite of his sandwich before continuing. "You could always go after his brother, you know."

Xander gagged. "Buffy! I'm not going to go out with that... Geek."

"He's not a geek." Willow insisted. "He's sweet-"

"You think everyone is sweet." Xander interrupted. "You think Mr. Rayne, the British Teacher From Hell, is sweet. And again, dammit, I ask! What is up with all these British people?"

"Calm down." Buffy rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat. "You need to get laid or something."

"Well, there's a good idea." Xander agreed in a sarcastic tone. "Why don't I go pop William's cherry, hmm?" He turned Willow, who was blushing a tint of red that clashed with her hair. "Would that make you happy, Willow? If I gave into my stalker?"

"William is not a stalker." Willow insisted. "Just because he writes poetry about you... Well, it doesn't make him a stalker."

"No, but then there are the pictures he's got in his locker." Buffy said. Xander let out a groan of despair. "How strange it must be, Xander. You're in love with Spike, and his twin brother is in love with you. That could be quite the kinky triangle."

"That's so wrong." Willow said, giggling once more. A loud ringing resonated out of the speakers. Students quickly gathered their meals, hoping their afternoon classes wouldn't last long. Willow stood with a sigh. "Isn't it just a little degrading when they herd us into the school like cattle?"

"You've got a point." Buffy agreed, before chuckling. "Although, I don't think that boy will ever conform to the movement of a herd."

The trio turned and watched, amused, as the back door to a white van burst open. The sound of music, sounding like a mix between rock and techno styles, drifted their way. A small boy, with electric blue hair, jumped out with a cloud of greenish smoke. Daniel "Oz" Osbourne reached back into the van, switching off his boom box and grabbing a large spray can of cologne. After carefully spraying his whole body, he slammed the van's doors and made his way toward the school. Spike met him half way and they continued into the building.

"It's no wonder he failed last year." Willow said, shaking her head.

"Ah, yes, the side effects of weed. Pot. Mary-Jane. Marijuana. Terrible tragedy, the damage it does to the mind." Xander said solemnly. "Actually, Oz is pretty smart and weed doesn't really damage the brain. It just makes you lazy. And that's what Oz is: a lazy Einstein."

"Lazy is an understatement. He sleeps through gym." Buffy said. "Who actually sleeps through gym?"

"Apparently he does."

"Shut up, Xander." Buffy ordered, before pushing through the school doors, adjusting her skirt, and making her way to English class.

"Try not to fawn over Mr. Wyndham-Pryce!" Xander yelled after her. He grinned as Buffy's hand raised long enough to give him the middle-finger salute.

File 2
Cordelia's Library Visit

"And I told him that I wasn't going to go out with him. I insisted it wasn't about how much money he had, but about how much he spent on me. I mean, with me. How much time he spent with me." Cordelia Chase said loudly, holding the small cell phone to her ear. She placed a small stack of books, predominantly on beauty tips, onto the counter with a loud thump. Rupert Giles couldn't help but wince. "I don't care that he looked good with my Gucci, the entire point is that he didn't care about me."

"Hem-Hem." Rupert cleared his throat, trying to catch Cordelia's attention. The girl continued to talk into her phone, causing many of the studying students to look their way. This, Rupert decided, was why he didn't like coming in early for work, or coming in at all as the case may be.

"So, what I was thinking is that we should get together and have a little... Party of sorts." Cordelia said, before scoffing. "No, not a keg! What do I look like, a Sorority Bimbo? Besides, I don't think Daddy would like buying our illegal beer."

"Hem-Hem." Rupert tried again.

"Just a moment." Cordelia said into her phone, before turning to Rupert with an eyebrow raised. "May I help you?"

"Well, it's nice to see you do posses proper grammar." Rupert commented, pulling the books toward him. "I need to see your school identification."

"This is ridiculous." Cordelia insisted, as she pulled a school I.D. out of her stylish backpack. She tossed it at the librarian, before returning to the phone. "They card you at this stupid school like I'm a common criminal, or worse, a band member or something."

Rupert rolled his eyes and picked up the scanner, which was attached to the computer.

"I know!" Cordelia exclaimed. "Like the people around here don't know who I am? Please."

Rupert squeezed the scanner's trigger, waiting for the red line to scan the book. He waited. There was no beep. With a muffled curse, he squinted at the computer screen.

"I can not believe you are dating that jerk!" Cordelia said in a pitch that caused Rupert to cringe. "I mean, what is up with his hair? Has he ever heard of a hairbrush? But, none the less, anything you have has got to be better than the slime balls in Sunnydale."

Rupert poked a few of the keys on the keyboard, watching the screen avidly. Hoping he didn't just screw something up, he turned once again and tried to scan one of Cordelia's books. There was a series of beeps, and Rupert turned to stare at the computer screen in shock.

"Yes, well, I have Civics next." Cordelia was saying. She sighed dramatically. "My teacher is a cave man. He's loud, rude, and..." She giggled. "Rather dreamy."

Rupert nervously picked up the second book and scanned it. The computer beeped five times. He did the same with the next book, which beeped six times.

"Oh, please." Cordelia snorted. "I'm not so sleazy that I would flirt with a teacher. He's old enough to be my big brother for heaven's sake."

The last book beeped five times. Rupert hit the print button, watching as the deadlines and book titles printed onto a slip of paper. Clearing his throat, he caught Cordelia's attention.

"They, ah, that is-" Rupert stuttered.

"When are they due?" Cordelia asked, yanking the books and paper out of his hands.

"Umm, ah, that is..." Rupert glared at the computer. "They're due in November-" Cordelia raised an eyebrow. "-Of next year."

Cordelia wisely said nothing, merely placing the books into her backpack, and slipped out of the library, phone stuck to her ear permanently. Rupert watched her go, before turning to the computer as though it had abused him in some way.

"Bloody, horrid contraption." Rupert muttered.

"Honestly, Rupert." A sly voice commented from behind him. "You shouldn't speak such language."

"Joy." Rupert said with a drawn out sigh. "Absolute Joy." He turned toward Ethan Rayne and crossed his arms, trying to send off an 'I don't like you' kind of vibe. "What is it?"

"I'm actually in need of some assistance." Ethan smirked. "I want to have some of my smarter students do a group project." He stepped closer to Rupert with a slight slink of his hips. "Perhaps you can... Point in me in the direction of your... Chemistry?"

"Aisle ten." Rupert said evenly.

"Why thank you, Rupert." Ethan said softly, with a slow smile. Rupert glared.

File 3
The Life of William

William Bradshaw carefully slipped his leather-bound notebook into his bag and stood. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Xander, Buffy, and Willow gather their lunches and enter the school. Making sure to avoid the lumbering figures of Sunnydale's football team, William slipped in through the back door. Just when he though he would make it to English class undisturbed, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. With a squeak, he twisted around and pressed his back against the lockers. A grin greeted him.

"Now, now, William." William's twin, Spike, drawled in that Cockney accent that he had picked up somewhere between the airport in London and the airport in L.A. Spike's head cocked to the side. "Shouldn't be afraid of your own brother."

"What is it you want, exactly?" William asked, already uncomfortable in both Spike and his friend's company. Oz stared at him from beside Spike, the guitarist's eyes drifting down to William's fingers. William quickly slipped his hands in his pockets.

"Have a bit of a... What do you call it? Hmm, yes, engagement." Spike said.

"Not again." William thumped his head against the locker, before glaring at his brother. "Which class?"

"Mr. Wyndham-Pryce." Spike said in a proper tone. "The bastard assigned some stupid report on, what was it?" Spike turned to Oz, who merely blinked at him. "Oh, right. The Scarlet Letter."

"Why can't you just write it?" William said, trying hard to not let it sound like a whine. Spike smirked, giving William the impression he had failed. "Someday I won't be around to do your work for you, Spike."

"But until then, you will be." Spike smirked. Spike patted him on the shoulder, causing him to nearly topple sideways. With a grin, Spike slinked away, Oz following in his wake.

"Bloody hell." William muttered to himself, running his fingers through his curly blonde hair. He didn't notice as the ink, which had previously stained his fingers, left black traces on his hair. Shaking his head, he once again starting making his way to the stairway.

In English, much against his better nature, William ignored Mr. Wyndham-Pryce's lecture. The soft British tongue and brief, but common, stutters as a random girl batted her eyelashes at the young teacher was like a soft buzz in the back of his head. Instead, he placed his notebook in his lap, and carefully wrote. Every once in a while, his eyes would dart around the room, making sure no one was watching him.

The problem with his life, as far as William was concerned, was that Spike had received all of the confidence. William knew he was smart, after all his own brother forced him to do their homework. William had long ago learned certain things. First, to never make those around you, who took advantage of your intelligence, seem smarter than yourself. Which, evidently, would explain how Spike had a steady C+ and he had a steady A+.

The other thing he learned was to not give into your emotions. Which was a silly concept, because if you never showed your emotions then sooner or later you would explode. Possibly while shopping at the nearest Wal-Mart, resulting in the mass hysteria of lower-class, American patrons. William tried to not be amused by the concept. But, none the less, it was best to place your emotions in a particular spot, so they would not be discovered by others. Hence the poetry.

After English, William quickly gathered his supplies, pressing his notebook hard against himself. He had already encountered the horrible amusement the manly jocks received while reading his poetry out loud. It was probably the only reason Xander Harris knew of his crush. If he really did know, that is. William had long ago learned that Xander wasn't always aware of the things around him.

"Watch it!" Cordelia's high pitched voice demanded as William accidentally bumped into her. She quickly fumbled with her cell phone, catching it before it fell to the floor. "What is your trauma?"

"Terribly sorry-" William started.

"Whatever." Cordelia interrupted, with snide look. "Geek."

William ignored Cordelia, quickly sifting past her and the eyes of her followers. With a sigh, he prayed the school day would be over so he could go and hide himself in his bedroom, like he did every night of his life.

File 4
Charles Gunn, Counselor

Charles Gunn watched with a stern frown as his students finally left the classroom. He rolled his eyes in annoyance as he saw that Xander had remained behind, idly picking up random objects and staring at the laminated copy of the Constitution that lined the wall. With a sigh, Charles sat down at his desk in preparation for a long meeting.

It had taken him thirty minutes to install the fear of himself into the heart of Jesse McNally. He, in all honesty, didn't want to have to deal with Xander Harris as well. However, Principal Snyder -- who was the most idiotic white guy he had ever met -- had enlisted him as Xander's counselor. It was, as Charles had discovered, a cruel world.

"What do you want, Harris?" Charles demanded, watching as Xander fumbled with himself. A flower vase, which was something a previous teacher had left behind that Charles had yet to toss out, bounced between his hands before being placed in a secure spot. It was moments like these that Charles was thankful he was no longer a teenager.

"Umm, well, I..." Xander stammered.


"Needyerhlpwtsomtig." Xander said, quickly.

"What?" Charles asked, blinking.

"Need your help with something." Xander repeated. Charles gestured for him to continue. "Okay, it's like this. I'm gay. Which, you already know because, hello, everyone knows. But, uh, there are certain things that I can't exactly let... I mean, I can't let it be known at home, okay? And, well, I know that the first Parent-Teacher meeting is going to be soon... And, yeah, my dad really hates to show up at these things, but the odds are he will be here. In of which, he'll have to talk to you, right?"

"As is customary." Charles agreed. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"Okay, right." Xander took a deep breath. "My Dad is very... Umm... Insistent when it comes to knowing what's going on. Now, I know none of my teachers will say anything, but... Well, he's bound to bother you more, isn't he?" Xander watched nervously as Charles crossed his arms. "Err, right. Can you please not tell my dad that I'm gay?"

"Let me get this straight." Charles said. "You want me, a teacher, to deny the parent of a minority an honest answer to a specific question?"

"Uh, yeah. I think so?" Xander frowned. "Yes?"

"Normally I have to give your parents any kind of information they request." Charles informed him. Xander turned pale. "They have the right to see any record available on you, as far as I know. However, considering the expression on your face, I do believe it might be better to... Withhold any information regarding your romantic life."

"Oh, thank God." Xander said in relief.

"Xander..." Charles leaned forward. "You do realize that as a teacher, I'm required to report any indication of child abuse, don't you?"

"Child abuse? No!" Xander laughed nervously. "There is no child abuse. My dad just... Is really, really strict, right? He would seriously kick me out if he knew I was gay."

"In that case... Since it's in your best interest, I'll not say anything." Charles said slowly. "Never was one for following rules, anyway."

"Okay. Good." Xander grinned. Charles raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at the door. "Oh, right. I'll see you next class, then."

"Exactly." Charles replied.

He let out a sigh of relief as Xander picked up his bag and darted out of the room. It was times like these that he really wondered why he was a teacher. Except for the fact that Xander reminded him too much of himself. While Xander seemed to always be running away from home, where he was misunderstood and obviously treated unfairly, Charles spent most of his life running from those meant to protect him. Like Cops or anyone who considered themselves above the lower-class slums of L.A., where Charles grew up.

Yeah, Xander was a little weird at times, there was no question about that. But Charles kind of liked him. Even if he was an annoying white kid that took full advantage of Charles' counseling position.

File 5
The Embarrassment of Jesse McNally

Jesse took a deep breath and ignored Buffy, who rolled her eyes. He could do this. He could walk over there and talk to Cordelia Chase. It wasn't like she was infallible. She was normal. She was a normal student, who came from a rich family and wore skirts that were far too short. She was a student that could get away with anything and that made Principal Snyder's eyes glaze over when she batted her eyelashes at him. Which was a disturbing image, and one that Jesse quickly forced out of his head.

"I can do this." Jesse announced.

"Sure." Buffy snorted.

"I can!" Jesse insisted. Buffy stared at him a moment, before calmly pulling out a camera from her bag. "I'll just go over and say hi."

"And then?" Buffy asked, checking the camera for film.

"And then I'm asking her to the Bronze tonight." Jesse said, nodding his head. "I will be successful. I will win the heart of Cordelia."

"Fascinating." Buffy grinned. "Go on, then."

Jesse sent her a look that was hardly amused, before walking down the hallway to Cordelia Chase. Buffy watched him go, camera poised in her hand in case a moment came for it to be used. She didn't turn as Xander and Willow appeared next to her.

"What is he doing?" Willow asked, looking worried.

"He's not..." Xander squinted, watching as Jesse approached Cordelia. "Oh, God, he is. He's actually doing it. It's been one whole year of pep talks and staring, and now he's finally doing it." Xander shook his head. "I can't watch."

"I just don't get it." Willow said in dismay. "I'll never understand it."

"Just admit it." Buffy said. "Men like women that are able to tear them apart at one point or another."

"Okay, eww." Xander made a disgusted face. "Gay here. I so don't need to hear this stuff."

"I'm sorry to harm your sensitive constitution." Buffy commented.

Xander rolled his eyes and turned to watch as Jesse talked to Cordelia. The look on her face, coupled with the look of the group of ditzy girls surrounding her, was something that would have caused Xander to run in horror. Of course, Jesse wasn't Xander. The tall boy continued to talk and Xander could practically hear him stumble over his words.

And then, just as Buffy raised the camera to take a picture, the laughter started. First with Cordelia's snort, then followed by her leading groupie -- Harmony Kendall. It spread like a wild-fire, sweeping through the crowd faster than anything Xander had ever seen. Including the time his father had set his Lego’s on fire.

"Buffy." Willow hissed. "Stop taking pictures!"

"Oh, come on!" Buffy replied, snapping one picture after another as Jesse's head hung and he turned to walk back toward them. "You know we'll all look back on this with a fond smile and chuckle. Might as well have visuals."

"I'm sorry." Xander said sincerely as Jesse returned to their side.

"It's okay." Jesse mumbled, poking at a weed in the ground with his foot.

"You're better than her, Jesse." Willow insisted. "Cordelia Chase is a... A... A... Bitch!"

"Willow!" Buffy exclaimed.

"What? I can be mean." Willow said with a look of resolve. The other three shared a look.

"Sure you can, Willow." Jesse said, patting her on the shoulder. He smiled when she turned to him with a happy grin. Yes, Willow really was such a cruel person. With a sigh, Jesse shot Cordelia's smirking form one last look. "Come on. Let's just get out of here."

File 6
In the Teacher's Lounge

Wesley Wyndham-Pryce entered the teacher's lounge with a sense of unease. While he had only been working there for three weeks, this was merely the second day of actual classes. Three weeks of preparation and getting his classroom ready. He had only entered the teacher's lounge briefly yesterday, in which he completely found himself unhinged at the behavior that went on within. Needless to say, he was now unsure about entering the room.

Rupert was sitting in the corner, a cup of tea and book in hand. Ethan was sitting next to Rupert, attempting to get his attention. It really was a fascinating sight, to see Ethan smirk and wiggle his eyebrows in such an obscene manner. While those two played ignorant and flirty, the other teachers were draped across sofas and seated at the table. The head of the English department sat staring at the television, eyes glazed over.

Wesley quickly skirted around her and made his way to the fridge. School would be over in an hour or so. Wesley, having his last period free, had opted to spend it in the teacher's lounge, hoping he would become accustomed to this... American type setting. A part of him secretly prayed the hour would pass quickly, so he could get back to his classroom and meet with any students that needed his help.

Of course, those students seemed to all be young girls with white, flashy smiles and long California hair. It was... Disturbing how they all looked the same. With a sigh, Wesley tried to ignore the sight of the gym teacher downing a bottle of whiskey and placed a crisp apple and cup of coffee upon the table.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite Englishman." A deep voice said. Wesley glanced over to see Charles slide into the chair next to him.

"Hello, Charles." Wesley greeted.

"I love the way you say my name." Charles informed him with a wide grin. Wesley set about slicing his apple, ignoring the man staring at him. "So, how is life in America treating you?"

"Rather well." Wesley informed him. He watched as Charles reached over and snagged one of his apple slices. Wesley carefully set down his knife and adjusted his glasses. "And you? How are you enjoying Sunnydale?"

"A little too suburban and clean cut for me, to be honest." Charles admitted.

"Ah, yes." Wesley agreed in amusement.

"So, I was wondering..." Wesley watched as Charles cleared his throat nervously. "Kids around here say there's this club they go to. I figure, you and me? We ain't that old."

"Are you...?" Wesley trailed off, unable to comprehend what he was saying.

"Asking you out." Charles finished. "Maybe."

"Hmm." Wesley hummed. Charles stared at him. Across the room, Rupert had stood up, snapping his book closed.

"I said leave me alone!" Rupert insisted. Wesley and Charles watched as Rupert left the teacher's lounge. Ethan stared them, and anyone else that dared to watch, down before hurrying out the door after Rupert.

"Man, he should just give up." Charles commented.

"Yes, it appears as though Rupert does not return the attention." Wesley agreed.

"Yeah." Charles' eyes slipped from the door and landed on Wesley. "So, what about you?"

"What about me?" Wesley feigned ignorance. Instead, he chewed idly on a piece of apple and watched as the head of his department fall asleep with a snore, television forgotten.

"Would you return the attention?" Charles asked.

"From Ethan?" Wesley raised an eyebrow. Charles gave him an agitated look and for a moment Wesley actually felt sorry for the man. "Well, you'll have to clarify."

"You know who I'm talking about. Hell, I've been flirting with you since you showed up!" Charles exclaimed.

"Hmm." Wesley gave him a small smile, before tossing the core of his apple into the trash. Charles watched as Wesley gathered his things and stood. "Maybe I'll think about that."

With that said, Wesley turned on his heal and left the teacher's lounge. Charles glared at the door a moment, before letting his head hit the table with a thump.

File 7
Proper Goggle Use

"I honestly believe the X component isn't what it seems." Fred Burkle insisted, pulling one of the four pencils out of the bun in her hair. She leaned over the pad of paper on the desk, writing an equation with tiny print. "If you substitute the amount of nitrogen, then I believe you will find-"


"But the equation doesn't really fit either option, if you look closely." Fred continued.

"Oh my God, I don't care!" Buffy whined, letting her head drop to the table with a loud thump. Fred let out a small squeak and jerked back, startled. Buffy let out a relieved sigh. "Silence. Beautiful silence."

"Now, Ms. Summers." Ethan's voice said. Buffy simply knew that he was smirking at her. He had that strange smirking voice that only British people could manage. Buffy took a deep breath and looked up at the Chemistry Teacher From Hell. He raised an eyebrow at her. "One would think that you didn't want to pass Chemistry."

"Oh." Buffy said, sitting up straight and attempting a look of earnest. "But I do! I really, really do. I care about-" Buffy squinted at one of the charts on the wall. "-Proper goggle use..."

Buffy shifted in her seat and forced a smile. Thank God this was her last class of the day.

"Ms. Summers," Ethan started, rubbing at his forehead. By now the other students had abandoned their projects in favor of watching the entertainment placed before them. "I placed you with Ms. Burkle in hopes it would at least get you a passing grade. I'm trying to do you a favor here."

"Right." Buffy gave a slight chuckle. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"Ladies and Gentlemen." Ethan said, turning to the rest of the class. Buffy felt a part of her turn over with unease. This didn't look like a good sign. "Tell me, do any of you care about this class? Anyone at all?"

"Oh, me!" Fred bounced, waving her hand.

"Anyone besides Ms. Burkle?" Ethan asked, sending Fred a slight smile. Fred beamed. "Ms. Summers, why do you suppose people don't enjoy Chemistry as much as, say, shopping?"

"Because it's boring?" Buffy replied.

"Buffy!" Xander hissed from behind her. Buffy glanced back at him, taking in the expression she knew all too well. The expression that told her to simply shut up and say nothing. Buffy chose to ignore that expression.

"I mean, what's the point, right?" Buffy continued.

"Indeed. What is the point?" Ethan repeated, nodding his head. He glanced at the clock, before rubbing his hands together. "Very well, class. It appears the day is nearly over, thank God. So, it is time for homework."

"Ah man!" Jesse whined loudly.

"Be sure to thank Ms. Summers." Ethan said with a cruel smile. "For she gave me the idea. I want a rough draft on why Chemistry and other sciences are important to society and the world at large. No less than two thousand words. Due... Tomorrow."

"Nice one, Buffy." Xander muttered, along with all the other students. Buffy slid downward in her chair.

"Couldn't you just keep your mouth shut?" Jesse asked, stuffing his books into his backpack. Both he and Xander stood and walked over to her.

"Oh, be quiet." Buffy snapped. "I don't have to take this from the likes of you two."

"Yeah, but now we actually have to do the work!" Xander complained. "Willow refuses to do it anymore, all thanks to that talk about self-confidence and being your own woman you gave her."

"Well, she needed to stop doing your homework." Buffy glared, standing.

The three students made their way out of the classroom, arguing. The other students followed suit, all seemingly agitated about the homework. In fact, Fred seemed to be the only one excited about that.

File 8
Start the Engine

Oz tilted his head out the window of his van, hand slowly raising a joint to his lips. He ignored the stares the other students gave him as they exited the school, another day of torture complete. Oz took a small drag of the joint and held the tangy smoke in his lungs. He fought down a cough.

"Bloody, buggering, fucking, piece of... Shit!"

"Problem?" Oz asked simply, stuffing the joint into the van's built in ashtray.

"Where the hell did you buy this fucking thing?" Spike demanded, his head appearing around the raised hood. Oz shrugged. "This thing is... Argh! I can't get this fucking... It's not even a goddamn car! ...To start." Spike paused, leaning over the side to fiddle with a something. With a sigh, he pulled back. "Okay, try it."

Oz turned the key in the ignition. A grinding noise filled the air, followed by a series of sputtering. Spike glared at the engine, before reaching inside once more. Oz leaned back in his seat, eyes slowly watching as student after student walked past. He snorted as Xander tripped over his own foot as he noticed Spike's butt wiggling in the air.

"Bloody-" Spike started again. Oz tuned out the long streak of curse words.

"Please don't tell me it's broken down again." A soft voice commented, words coming out in a proper, and yet amused, accent. Oz twisted in his seat to stare blankly at William's form. The young writer was twisting the cap of a pen with his long fingers.

"Bugger off, William." Spike ordered. By now he was practically inside the engine.

"I don't even know why you bother." William commented, as though he couldn't help himself. "That thing will never be a worthy piece of transportation."

"Well, it gets us across town, don't it?" Spike snapped. Oz nodded his confirmation of that fact. It did indeed get him across town. When it was running, at least.

"Yes, well, a lot of good that does you." William replied. "I wouldn't go to that... Club if my life depended on it."

"You have ink on your middle finger." Oz commented. William blinked up at him in shock, before looking down at his hands. And yes, there was a large ink stain on his middle finger, no doubt from holding his pen all day. Oz leaned out the window to look more intently at William's hands. "I've never seen a person actually get ink stains on their fingers before."

"That's William for you." Spike snorted, jumping off the side of the van, and therefore out of the engine. "Manages all sorts of dorky feats, don't you?"

"Shut up, Spike." William said, though it was hardly with venom. Oz noticed that William hardly ever said anything with true venom.

"You need to lighten up." Spike informed him. He nodded at Oz, who reached to turn the keys. The engine struggled a moment, before starting up. Grinning, Spike slammed the hood down.

"Not all of us can hang out doing nothing all day." William replied, watching as his brother walked to the other side of the van and slid into the passenger seat. Oz calmly pressed himself back into his seat as Spike leaned over him.

"You need to get out some, is all I'm bloody well saying." Spike informed him. A slight smirk appeared on Spike's lips. "You should come to the Bronze tonight."

"I will not!" William exclaimed. "Mother would have a fit." Spike raised an eyebrow, a sure sign that he was daring William to actually say no. Oz was intrigued as a stubborn expression flitted over William's face. "Fine. I'll come."

"Brilliant!" Spike gave William a smile, which caused him to narrow his eyes in suspicion. "Oz and I have some things to do, but we'll swing by and pick you up later, eh?"

"Yes, I suppose." William said nervously. He glanced at Oz, who was back to staring at William's hands. "Well, I've got homework to do."

"Right. Remember that Scarlet Letter thing, hmm?" Spike said. William sighed, but nodded none the less.

File 9
Home Sweet Home

Warning: Child Abuse

Xander winced as the sound of breaking glass reached his ears. He slowly slid his backpack off his shoulders and sat it on his bed. Downstairs, he could hear the most familiar sounds in the world. That of his father yelling. That of his mother crying. That of a glass being thrown into the wall. Xander fought down the strong desire to end the madness. He couldn't stop them. He couldn't keep them from yelling.

Instead, he pulled his Chemistry homework out of his bag. Sitting down on his bed, he propped the book on one knee and grabbed a pencil. He tried to focus on the report at hand, knowing he would have to at least try and get it done before going to the Bronze. Not that his parents would care if he didn't do his homework, but he didn't want to risk not passing Chemistry class. Mr. Rayne seemed like the type of teacher to actually call up one's parents and alert them of a failing grade.

That was something Xander did not want to experience.

Xander worked for a while, writing down random things in a random composition, before moving on to math. Hopefully, he would get points for at least spelling his name right. The thought caused a wry smile to appear on his face, which was quickly wiped clean as the sound of footsteps echoed up the stairs. Xander glanced at the clock. Six at night.

Surely his father wasn't done drinking himself into an oblivion just yet? Xander had a strategy that centered around the fact that Mr. Tony Harris didn't get up from the sofa from four in the afternoon to about ten at night. This gave Xander enough time to do his homework and escape to the Bronze. By the time he came home, at nearly eleven, his father was passed out on the bed. It was a perfect strategy, and one that hardly ever failed.

Unless his parents ran out of money for booze.

Xander took a deep breath and put away his schoolwork as the footsteps came closer to his room. A belch was heard.

"Boy." A slurring voice said. There was a soft knock at the door, which nearly made Xander giggle. His father, in all his drunken ways, still knocked.

"Uh, yeah? Come on in." Xander called. The door opened with a gentle push, followed by a creak. An older version of Xander, minus the easy-going smile and gentle eyes, stood in the doorway. The smell of whiskey and beer immediately drifted into the room.

"I'm going to get right to the chase, boy." Tony said, pointing his finger in Xander's general direction. "We feed you. Clothe you. Get you to school every fucking day. And what do we get in return? Nothing."

"I-I'm sorry-"

"Don't give me that 'I'm sorry' shit." Tony interrupted. Xander winced and looked away. "Me and your mother have made a decision."

"Yes, sir."

"You're getting a job." Xander, for a brief moment, didn't think he had heard him right. He, Xander Harris, was getting a job? Where? He was barely seventeen and living in a small town with fewer fast food restaurants -- Because, let's face it, that's the only place someone like him could get employed. -- than one would expect to see. Where would he get a job?


"Can't you hear, boy?" Tony sneered, taking a step into the room.

"You want me to get a job?" Xander finally squeaked out. "Why?"

"Don't you give me that tone!" Tony snapped, his fists clenching in a fit of drunken anger. Xander tried to ignore him and continued to stare at the floor in shock. "You damn well better pull some of your weight around here!" Xander suddenly felt himself being jerked forward. He looked up into a pair of bloodshot eyes. "Do you understand me?"

"I-" Xander started. He was cut off as Tony shoved him backwards. His back hit the semi-comfort of his bed, before somehow propelling him into a roll. He fell off the bed, banging his head against the wall in the process. Blinking away his dizziness, he looked up at his father through the corner of his eye.

"You have a week." Tony informed him, before storming out of the room, door slamming shut in his wake.

"Shit." Xander said softly, reaching up to touch the knot forming at the back of his head.

File 10
Delusions of Harmony

Cordelia slowly crossed her legs and eyed a couple of guys standing near the bar. The Bronze wasn't very packed, due to the fact that it was a school night. Cordelia sat at her assigned spot, the soft loveseat in the corner. It gave her a perfect view of the dance floor, bar, and stage. The band played some form of alternative rock, which somehow managed to keep a good beat to dance in.

Yes, Cordelia's world was forming itself nicely. That is, until someone decided to jostle the sofa she was sitting on. Turning her head slightly, Cordelia fought down a groan. Harmony's artificially whitened teeth flashed in her direction.

"Oh my God, Cordelia, I think that guy over at the bar is looking at you." Harmony squealed.

"Harmony, every guy is looking at me." Cordelia informed her.

"Oh." Harmony shifted slightly. Cordelia ignored her, in favor of staring at the band. The singer, some guy who had already graduated from Sunnydale High, was practically molesting the microphone. Cordelia turned her nose up at the vulgar display.

"When are they going to get a good band to play in here?" Cordelia asked herself.

"I don't know, they're kind of nice." Harmony commented, as though Cordelia had actually been talking to her. Cordelia made a silent vow to get new groupies. "But I really wish Oz would stop staring at me."

At this strange announcement, Cordelia slowly allowed her eyes to drift over toward the guitarist. Oz was rather good, his fingers easily moving from one note to the other. Though, and Cordelia would never begin to understand why, Oz's head bobbed to a beat that was entirely different then that of the song. Almost as though, with his eyes closed and shoes off, the stoner was in a world of his own. One thing Cordelia knew, however, was that Oz was definitely not staring at Harmony Kendall.

"I mean, I know I'm pretty to look at-" Harmony started.

"He's not looking at you." Cordelia interrupted.


"He's not looking at you." Cordelia repeated. "In fact, I don't even think he knows your name."

"Oh, wait, just you see." Harmony insisted in an enthusiastic sort of way. "He will so start... Any minute now."

"Does he even like girls?" Cordelia asked out loud. Harmony gaped at her. "He hangs out with that Spike character all the time, after all. And we all know how straight that boy is not."

"You mean..." Harmony scooted closer, which resulted in Cordelia trying to scoot away. "...Spike is like that?"

"Well, yeah." Cordelia rolled her eyes. "It's not that difficult to realize." Harmony continued to stare at her in shock. "There are gay people in the world. Haven't you ever seen 'Will and Grace'? Sheesh."

"But, I didn't think he was gay." Harmony glanced up at Oz, who was now swaying in tune to what appeared to be the Pink Panther theme song.

"Well, I could be wrong." Cordelia admitted. "He's probably bisexual, though. I mean, look at him. He's far too lazy to go after one particular sex. He's the type to just grab a hold and enjoy whatever ride he's on."

"That's so dirty." Harmony said, almost looking bashful. Except this was Harmony, so Cordelia wasn't fooled. Harmony simply didn't do bashful. She did shocked, amazed, and stupid really well, but she couldn't pull off bashful.

"That's Oz." Was Cordelia's simple reply. Because Cordelia, as it were, knew everything. At least, that's what Harmony had a habit of believing. A habit that Cordelia was in full support of. Cordelia smirked at Harmony, sliding downward in her seat and letting her legs stretch outward. She could feel a few eyes look her way.

"Still..." Harmony said, more to herself than to Cordelia.

"I'm going to dance." Cordelia announced. She gracefully stood up and slinked toward the dance floor. Immediately picking up the beat, she swayed her hips and rubbed up against those around her. Guys stared, along with a few girls.

File 11
Brother Bonding

"Please tell me you are not wearing that." Spike said, eyeing his twin with obvious distaste. "Bloody hell, William, you can't wear that to a club!"

"I..." William trailed off, glancing down at his attire. He tugged uselessly at his gray pull-over vest, which was worn over a white button down top and with a pair of charcoal slacks. "It's the best thing I have."

"It's horrid. Absolutely horrid." Spike insisted. He grabbed a hold of William's arm and dragged him out of his room. William sighed as he was dragged into Spike's bedroom. It was illuminated mostly by a black light, which caused some of the ugliest posters in the world to light up like a green sun. William stood, unable to tear his eyes off of a smirking mushroom on the wall, as Spike dug through his closet.

"Umm, I don't think-" William started.

"Fuck, where did I put that shirt?" Spike demanded, moving over to his laundry basket. William wrinkled his nose as Spike pulled out a black shirt and sniffed it. "Here."

"I'm not wearing that." William informed him, taking the shirt between his thumb and forefinger. The thing dangled there like a dead fish.

"Look, do you want that bastard to pay any attention to you?" Spike asked, sitting down on his bed in order to pull on his boots.

"Who?" William asked, feigning ignorance. He casually dropped the shirt. While he may be a geek in every sense of the word, he was still a clean person. There was no way he was going to wear that shirt.

"That Harris bloke." Spike replied, rolling off his bed and crouching down to dig underneath it.

"Wha...? I do not like Xander Harris!" William denied.

"So says you. Your diary on the other hand..." Spike smirked as he pulled out a small baggie filled with a dried looking plant. William adverted his eyes and ignored the fact that his brother had illegal substances hidden under his bed. Their mother would have a fit if she knew.

"I don't own a diary." William defended, following his brother out of the room. They paused long enough for Spike to snag his leather duster, before making their way out the door. William turned at the last minute. "Good bye, Mother!"

"Have fun, darling." A soft voice called from the kitchen.

"Bloody hell, come on." Spike dragged William through the door and into the dry, warm night.

"Where's the van?" William asked as, instead of heading toward Oz's van, they turned on the sidewalk and began walking in the direction of the Bronze. "Did it break down again?"

"No, Oz had to go set up. The Dingoes are playing tonight." Spike snapped, before his voice softened slightly. If William wasn't so used to his brother's mannerisms, he wouldn't have noticed. "You do realize that everyone knows about your love for Harris, don't you?"

"Well, I figured a few were aware." William mumbled.

"Exactly, but you aren't going to catch his attention dressed like that." Spike informed him. "Though why you want to go after that jerk-off is beyond my reasoning."

"He's... Gorgeous." William sighed.

"Whatever, Sleeping Beauty." Spike rolled his eyes. "The point is, he obviously doesn't like you. 'Sides, you're worth more than that."

"Oh, really?" William asked in the snidest voice he could manage.

"Hell yeah, you are." Spike pushed him gently. "You are my brother after all."

"I suppose being related to you makes me practically royalty." William said sarcastically.

"Even the fucking Queen of England wouldn't deny that one, mate." Spike agreed.

"It doesn't matter." William told him, kicking at a random piece of rock. The rock skidded off the sidewalk and onto the road. "Xander would rather date you, anyway."

"Bullocks." Spike growled. "Wouldn't date that fag to save my life." There was a pause, before Spike snorted. "Well, maybe for his arse, I would."

"He does have a nice one." William commented. Spike chuckled.

They continued walking, passing by a few closed stores, before finally reaching the Bronze. The sound of music vibrated through the cement ground. William gulped.

"I don't think I can-"

"Shut up and get in there." Spike ordered, handing the bouncer the entrance fee for them both. William let out a small yelp as Spike shoved him inside.

File 12
Buffy's Stalker

"Hey." Xander said softly, sliding into the seat next to Buffy. His eyes darted around the club, pausing briefly on Willow and Jesse. The two friends appeared to be dancing, though it looked more like a couple of elephants getting caught in an earthquake.

"Howdy." Buffy turned to him with a grin, which immediately faded. "Xander, you okay?"

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine." Xander fidgeted slightly. Buffy frowned and placed a hand on his arm, rubbing it gently.

"You sure? You look, I don’t know, a little out of it." Buffy commented.

"Oh, well, you know..." Xander replied, vaguely.

Buffy didn't comment. Commenting, she had discovered when she first moved to Sunnydale two years ago, was off limits when it came to Xander's small bouts of depression. She often had a feeling she was missing something rather important about Xander's home life, but no one offered to clear up the secret. With a sigh, Buffy dropped her hand from where it had rested on Xander's arm and stood.

"You want something to drink?" Buffy asked.

"Nah, I'm cool." Xander said, resting his chin on his upraised palm.

"Okay." Buffy nodded. She turned and slowly began making her way to the bar. Leaning against the counter, Buffy ignored those around her and stared at the bartender, as though that would speed up the process of him getting to her order.

"Hello." A voice greeted, interrupting her struggle to order a coke with telepathy. Buffy glanced out the corner of her eye and let out a loud groan.

"Oh great." She muttered, before turning a strained smile onto Angel. Angel was a rather large, attractive man. Keyword being man. He was at least twenty-five, and yet appeared to spend most of his time in the Bronze. Buffy suspected he was an unemployed townie.

"I've been watching you." Angel said, in what should have been a sly voice. It would have been sly, if Buffy wasn't immune to his charms. Immunity tended to happen when it was forced upon you at least once week, all summer long.

"You're always watching me. Which, can I just say, is really creepy?" Buffy commented.

"I just want to get to know you." Angel pouted.

God, why did everything have to happen to her? Buffy rolled her eyes and avoided the pout. The pout, as it were, was something she was immune to as well. With a sigh of relief, Buffy turned to the bartender as he approached. "Diet coke, please."

"One diet coke for the lady." The bartender said, sliding a cold can across the counter toward her. Buffy slipped him the money, before turning away from the bar. Across the room, Xander sat at their table, wearing a forlorn expression.

"Want to dance?" Angel asked.

"Look, buddy, lay off." Buffy ordered, starting to walk away.

"I don't understa-" Angel started.

"It's simple." Buffy gave him a fake grin. "You leave me alone, and I ignore you. Easy as pie." Buffy groaned as Angel's face turned broody. "Look, I can understand that you like me. But, guess what! I'm a little too young for you."

"Age isn't important when it comes to love." Angel said. Buffy gaped at him, believing for just a second that he was joking. Except, Angel looked rather serious.

"Right. Bye." Buffy said, before darting away. She quickly made it back to the table, where she turned to Xander. "I can not believe that guy!"

"What guy?" Xander asked, looking back in the direction she had just came from. He spotted Angel, who was now hovering by the bar like a giant mosquito, and his expression turned even darker than it already was. "Oh. That guy.... Bastard."

"Language." Buffy admonished.

"Whatever." Was Xander's reply. Buffy stared at him. "What? I'm fine, Buffy, really."

"Are you sure? I mean, I offered you free drink early. Drink! That could have led to free food." Buffy replied. "And you turned me down. That's not like you at all."

"It's nothing." Xander insisted. "I just didn't have a good afternoon, okay?"

"Hmm... There is something you're not telling me." Buffy said, eyes narrowed. "I'll give in for now, but mark my words! I'll find out what is wrong with you, and then I'll help fix it."

"Thanks." Xander gave her a slight smile.

File 13
The Kinda-Sorta Date

Charles glanced over at Wesley as they stood in line. He fought down a grin. Wesley, as it turned out, did not want to go to a club "filled with hormonal teenagers", so Charles had compromised. They were going to a movie instead. Hopefully, Charles could talk Wesley into going to the Bronze in order to dance afterwards.

Because he really wanted to see this British man get down and dirty. And he was damned determined to get him to do it on their first date. Date. A bubble of happiness started to expand inside Charles' chest.

"This isn't a date." Wesley suddenly said, as though he could read Charles' mind. The bubble popped like a busted helium balloon.

"No shit." Charles replied. Wesley raised an eyebrow at him, before turning to the ticket counter. "So, what do you want to see?"

"My choice?" Wesley asked.

"Sure." Charles smiled. Wesley didn't look at him, and Charles had a strange feeling Wesley would milk this for all that he could get. Yes, there were definitely signs of a smirk on the side of Wesley’s face that he could actually see.

"Two for..." Charles gulped as Wesley looked at him through the corner of his eyes. "...The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants."

"Wha...?" Charles stared at the ticket that was pressed into his hand, mouth hanging wide open. For a brief moment, he wished he had insisted they see Sin City. Or, hell, he'd even sit through Star Wars. Grumbling to himself, Charles obediently followed Wesley into the theater.

"Popcorn?" Wesley asked in an innocent sounding voice. Charles was not deceived.

"Yeah, okay." Charles nervously followed Wesley to the food counter. A pimply young boy eyed them carefully. "Umm, we'll have-"

"I can order for myself." Wesley informed him.

"Right." Charles replied, stepping aside. He shot Wesley a glare as the sound of a chuckle drifted his way.

"I'll have a medium popcorn, extra butter." Wesley said. "And a large Dr. Pepper."

Charles quickly ordered his own drink and candy, before following Wesley into the theater. It had to have been the most boring movie he had ever seen, including the time he had taken his little sister to see The Babysitter's Club movie. Finally, after what seemed like hours of torture, the closing credit appeared.

"Well, that was pleasant." Wesley commented with a slight smile as the exited the theater along with the crowd. Charles took a deep breath, trying not to complain. Charles didn't reply, so they began walking in no particular direction "I must say, you've surprised me, Charles."

"What do you mean?" Charles asked, glancing over at Wesley. Wesley smiled at him and reached over to take his hand into his own. Charles glanced down at their joined hands and then back up at Wesley. "Huh?"

"Not many people would suffer through a ridiculous movie such as that for me." Wesley said softly. Charles was fascinated by the soft blush that began to form at the back of Wesley's ears. It took a moment for Wesley's words to actually form in his mind.

"Wait, you were testing me?" Charles asked, with a slight frown. Wesley looked away. "Oh my God, you were testing me! Why?"

"I'm honestly not very certain as to why." Wesley admitted. "Most of the men I've gone out with have... Well, they aren't into the idea of commitment. I don't like one night stands. So, I guess I figured if I tormented you a bit that meant you were either amazingly desperate for sex or was serious about me."

"Oh, I'm a little of both, actually." Charles smiled. "But mostly serious. Very serious, actually. I told you, man, I liked you the moment I spotted you at the first faculty meeting."

"Hmm. Serious, then." Wesley said, stopping mid-walk to turn to Charles.

"Serious. You?"

"I think... Yes, I do believe I am." Wesley replied.

"So, would that mean I have permission to kiss you?" Charles asked innocently. He didn't give Wesley time to reply. Instead, he stepped forward, pressing his body flush against Wesley's, and gave him a gentle kiss. It was hardly more than a soft sweep of lip against lip. Charles pulled back, chuckling as Wesley followed him in order to firmly place his mouth against Charles'. They soon parted for a second time, Charles licking his lips. "Not a date, huh?"

"Not at all." Wesley broke into a full grin.

"Bronze?" Charles asked hopefully.

"Maybe some other time." Wesley replied, squeezing Charles' hand in his own. "Friday, perhaps?"

File 14
Fall of Twin

The music was becoming frantic as the night drew to a near-end. Oz had long ago stepped away from the stage, the band being taken over by the disc jockey. He walked alongside Spike, feet still bare. His guitar and shoes were safely placed in the back of his van. William shuffled next to them, looking like a student from a prep school, with his head bowed and hands stuffed inside of his slacks.

On the dance floor, bodies mingled. Cordelia could be spotted dancing with herself, a group of males, and a few females, dancing around her in a horrible attempt to actually dance with her. Buffy was dancing with some older man, a look of agitation on her face as she avoided getting closer than a foot with him. Jesse and Willow were still dancing together, their bodies bouncing along to the beat, but without any actual rhythm. At the edge of the dance floor was Xander, who stood with a frown on his face.

Oz, in all of his dazed world, would never be able to figure out if Spike actually meant to do it. But one moment, William was looking around, back hunched with nervousness, and the next he was falling forward. The young poet collided with Xander, both toppling to the floor. Spike smirked as he took a step back, crossing his arms and watching as William laid, shocked, on top of Xander.

"Oh God... I'm terribly, terribly sorry!" William stammered.

"Hey, could you-" Xander started.

"So sorry, really. I don't know what happened." William continued, unaware of Xander speaking. Oddly enough, William made no move to get off of him.

"Yeah, whatever, look could you maybe get up?" Xander asked. William scrambled to his feet, his face red from embarrassment. He reached out a hand toward Xander, but Xander ignored him and climbed to his feet unassisted.

"I really am-"

"Sorry, right." Xander rolled his eyes. Oz tilted his head, taking in Xander's defensive stance. The stoner had a feeling Xander had been mad long before William bumped into him, and this had been the icing on the proverbial cake. "Maybe you should watch where you're going from now on, huh?"

"I didn't see-" William said, nervously.

"Well, perhaps you'll pay attention to where you're going next time." Xander snapped.

Oz watched as William's lower lip wobbled dangerously. With a sigh, he knew that Xander's behavior would not be tolerated much longer. And, indeed, Spike suddenly started growling. A part of Oz, the part that actually realized he could effect the world around him instead of just observing it, knew he could have grabbed Spike's arm. But that part wasn't very loud.

"Why don't you just bugger off, Harris?" Spike demanded. Spike grabbed William's arm and pulled his twin behind him.

"I could say the same thing to you, Spike." Xander snapped.

"Listen, you little bitch, no one talks to my brother like that." Spike said, poking Xander hard in the chest. Xander reached up and grabbed his wrist.

"Don't touch me." Xander grounded out through clenched teeth.

Spike sneered, reaching up with his other hand and lightly pressing the end of his forefinger on the middle of Xander's forehead. "Touch."

"Spike!" William hissed. "Stop it. It was an accident, okay? Can't we just put this all behind us and move on?"

"Got to agree with that kind of logic." Oz commented.

"You're not worth it, anyway." Spike said snidely. The twins turned away, pushing past the disappointed crowd that had expected a fight. Oz glanced briefly at Xander, who still stood with a rigid stance. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened to make easy-going Xander Harris act like, well, like Spike.

File 15
Where the Books Live

"I must say, this infernal machine is very much a mystery to me." Rupert admitted as he held the library door open. Willow gave him a bright smile and slipped past him and into the empty library. It was early Wednesday morning, at least an hour before school actually started. "Thank you again for coming in at such an unusual time, Ms. Rosenberg."

"It's no problem, Mr. Giles." Willow insisted, walking around the counter and starting up the main computer. "If you remember correctly from last year, I'm usually at school pretty early."

"Ah, yes, you are correct of course." Rupert said, stepping up behind her.

"So, what seems to be the problem?" Willow asked, accessing the school's program.

"Err, are you suppose to know how to do that?" Rupert couldn't help but ask. Willow raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, right. I know nothing."

"Probably a wise choice."

"Hmm." Rupert smiled slightly. "As for the problem, well, yesterday it kept checking out books four or five times, instead of just once. It simply wouldn't stop beeping!"

"Well, let's see what we've got here." Willow muttered, clicking the mouse and opening files. Rupert felt his eyes cross slightly and he quickly looked away from the computer screen. He hovered nearby for another five minutes, before boredom finally got the best of him.

"If you don't need me...?" Rupert said.

"Huh? Oh! No, I don't need you." Willow replied, looking up from the computer. "I've just got to access the records from yesterday and check for any command errors-"

"Right, of course." Rupert interrupted, hoping to cut her off before she explained too much.

Willow watched as Rupert entered his office, before allowing the grin to appear on her face. She had actually fixed the problem three minutes ago. It turned out, Rupert had commanded the program to count one scan as a multiple scan, determined by how long he held down on the trigger of the scanner. Now, however, Willow was having fun seeing what books people were checking out.

She wasn't too surprised to see that Cordelia's reading collection centered around fashion, but the multiple check outs of Charles Dickens’s Oliver Twist was a bit of a shock. Jesse and Xander both equally checked out the library's pathetic collection of comic books. Buffy, so far, had yet to check anything out.

"Rupert, you Sex God, where are you?" A voice interrupted Willow. She looked up, eyes wide, to see that Ethan had entered the library, carrying what looked to be a single white rose. Ethan frowned upon sighting Willow. "Ah, Ms. Rosenberg, to what do we hold the pleasure?"

"I was fixing Mr. Giles' computer for him." Willow replied nervously.

"Hmm, he is rather clueless when it comes to those things, isn't he?" Ethan smiled. He leaned against the counter, placing the rose on top of the small book display resting next to the computer's monitor. "So, where is that sexy man?"

"He's-" Willow giggled. "-In the office."

"Thank you, honey." Ethan grabbed his rose, before narrowing his eyes at her. "Did you do your Chemistry homework?"

"Yes, Mr. Rayne." Willow said.

"Good girl." Ethan slipped behind the counter, winked at Willow, and made his way into the office.

As Willow closed the library's program, along with setting it up to where Rupert could no longer mess it up, she was able to hear voices in the office. Normally Willow didn't listen in on other conversations. Of course, normally she let Buffy do the eavesdropping and then listened to her gossip later. But, for once, Willow couldn't help it. She had to hear what was going on between Rupert and Ethan.

"Honestly, must you bother me every chance you get?" Rupert demanded.

"Yes, I must." Ethan replied, his voice sounding amused.

"I highly suggest you don't come a step closer, Ethan."

"But, Rupert, I brought you a pressie." Ethan said in a pouty voice. There was a pause, followed by a loud sigh.

"I'm not some girl you can give flowers to and expect them to rush into your arms." Rupert informed Ethan.

"Of course not." Ethan chuckled. "I expect you to come into my arms with a manly swagger."

File 16
The Apology Factor

Xander knew that, deep down, he had to do this. If he was honest with himself he would admit that he simply didn't want to apologize to William Bradshaw. He had been in a horrible mood the night before, and, okay, William didn't exactly deserve to be scowled at and treated with obvious distaste. The only problem with apologizing now was that Xander was still in a bad mood.

But it had to be done, because he was not about to let William's sad looking face make him feel worse than he already did. He had his father to do that job, thank you very much.

So, Xander came to school five minutes earlier than usual and waited next to William's locker. A part of Xander couldn't help but wonder how he knew where William's locker was, but he chalked it up to it being his duty -- what with his obsession with Spike and all. This was, after all, Spike's twin. And, while William was the complete opposite of Spike, looking at William was second best to looking at Spike. Xander was the type to take all he could get.

William appeared down the hall two point nine minutes after Xander had arrived. Xander was thankful to see that Spike was nowhere in sight, though he wasn't at all surprised. While Spike often took notice of his twin's life, he seemed to prefer ignoring his existence. Except last night, which Xander didn’t want to think about. Because, really, it was Spike who had pushed William in the first place.

Did that mean Spike was trying to support William's attraction toward him? How was Xander suppose to get him if he was doing something stupid like that?

"Umm... I..." A struggling voice interrupted Xander's musings. William stared up at him with large, blue eyes. "Excuse me?"

"Oh! Right." Xander shifted to the side, allowing William access to his locker. William undid the padlock, before turning to look at Xander. When Xander gave no indication of leaving, William took a deep breath and opened the locker door three inches. It was barely enough room to pull his Trigonometry book through and push in his Chemistry and Civics books. Xander noticed that it wasn't enough room, however, for him to see what was pinned up on the inside walls.

William gently shut the locker door and locked it up, taking a moment to place his math book into his bag. Once he was done, he turned to eye Xander. "D-did you need something?"

"Actually, I wanted to tell you something." Xander admitted. William stared at him. "Right, to the point? Okay, I can do that. I'm... I'm..." Xander shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Why is this so hard?"

"I-" William started.

"No! I can't do this, dammit." Xander insisted.

"Okay." William said in a meek voice.

"Right." Xander took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

It wasn't the first time someone gave him that look, and Xander was certain it wouldn’t be the last. But never before had he seen that look on someone besides Buffy or his mother. It was the look that clearly wondered: Are you completely daft? Because, really, what did he have to apologize for? Aside from treating William like an annoying fly.

Honestly, if Xander had known William wouldn't have been hurt by the night's events then he wouldn’t have bothered in the first place.

"You did hear me, right?" Xander finally asked.

"You're sorry?" William repeated, fingering the notebook that had somehow magically appeared in his hands.

"Yeah. For being such an ass last night." Xander clarified. William's eyes started to look a little misty, giving Xander a strong urge to run away. "Anyway, I just thought I'd-"

"Right, right." William interrupted, his voice suddenly sounding overly proper and crisp. Xander suspected this was the British emotion that he had heard so much about. "Thank you very much, Xander. It was very kind of you to apologize. I feel, however, that there is no-"

"Whoa!" Xander exclaimed. "Calm down, eh? You sound like an encyclopedia." William's sudden cringe didn't go unnoticed by Xander. "Hey, I'm sorry. I'm still... Not in the best of moods, okay? I just wanted to let you know that I didn't mean anything personal about the whole... Alpha-male grunting episode last night."

"Right." William nodded.

"Okay." Xander gestured behind him. "I'll just go then."

"Of course." William said, gripping his notebook tightly.

Xander nodded and turned. He made it half-way down the hall before curiosity got the better of him. Glancing over his shoulder, he was met with the sight of William leaning against the locker, eyes closed and a small smile on his lips. Shaking his head, Xander pushed the sight out of his head and made his way to class.

File 17
The Parent and the Principal

Principal Snyder looked up as his secretary knocked gently on his door. "Yes?"

"Um, sir, Mrs. Summers is on the phone." The woman replied, biting her lip nervously.

"Tell her I'm busy." Snyder said, quickly. There was a pause.

"She seems to believe it's important." The secretary whispered.

"Well, if it's so important, why doesn't she come down here and speak to me personally?" Snyder demanded. For a moment, albeit a brief one, he would have sworn he was getting one over Joyce Summers. That is, until his secretary peered back into the office.

"She's on her way."

Snyder should have known. That... That... Woman was out to get him, if it was the last thing she ever did. It was bad enough her daughter was a loud-mouthed girl with too much confidence, after all. Her mother, however, was a loud-mouthed woman with too much confidence. And intelligence. Joyce had what a lot of blonde women in California didn't have: Brains. The problem was she used that intellect and wit of hers to completely ruin Snyder's life.

Oh, to go back to the days when he could have flunked Buffy just to get back to her mother.

Joyce arrived ten minutes later, looking rather regal despite the yellow paint stain that resided on her cheek. Snyder couldn't help but wonder, momentarily, if this whole "at home mom/artist" was all an act, just so she could have an excuse to sit at home and think up ways of torturing him. Of course, that would imply that Joyce actually thought about him. The idea that she did was, frankly, a little scary.

"Ah, Mrs. Summers." Snyder greeted, smiling. "Do sit down."

"Principal Snyder, how are you?" Joyce asked, her voice sickeningly sweet.

"Absolutely wonderful." Snyder replied. Both adults smiled at each other for a moment, the tension in the room reaching preposterous degrees. "Did you need something?"

"I wanted to talk to you about how little funding the art department gets." Joyce informed him.

"...Mrs. Summers, may I call you Joyce?"

"No." Joyce replied.

"Right. Mrs. Summers, I understand your concern, but your daughter isn't even in an art class." Snyder said.

"So? Should that matter? Not, it should not!" Joyce insisted. "This school is a breeding ground for the leaders of the future. If we do not support every direction their minds may take, then we will fail as a society. I am here because the parents in this town are lazy bums. I am here because I care about these children!"

"Yes, Mrs. Summers, I'm well aware-" Snyder started.

"No, you are not." Joyce crossed her arms and eyed him with disgust. "Children, adolescent or not, need art. They need music. They need proper book funding. They need-"

"They need a lot of things." Snyder interrupted. "But they will not get everything they need. You know as well as I do that the parents of Sunnydale pay for the football teams uniforms and the cheerleader's pom-poms. They don't pay for the paints and the books and the flutes. We have a budget, Mrs. Summers."

"Yes. A budget." Joyce turned her nose up. "There are children in this school that are not jocks or cheerleaders. They are geniuses and art critics and poets!" Joyce's eyes started getting a little glittery, which caused Snyder to pushed his seat away from her a bit more. "If the school board will not pay for their future, then we will have to find a way to raise the money."

"You can't be serious." Snyder looked at her in horror. "You want those... those... Children to raise money for their school? It will never happen."

"Sure it will." Joyce replied, standing. "I'll make it happen."

Snyder watched, in mute terror, as Joyce literally smirked at him before leaving the office. With a sigh, Snyder accessed his fate. Yes, Joyce was definitely going to be the end of him.

File 18
Willow and the Rumor

"Buffy!" Willow hissed, sliding into her seat.

"Hmm?" Buffy asked, not looking up from her People magazine. "Huh... I thought Tom Cruise turned out to be gay."

"What?" Willow frowned. "Buffy!"

"Yes, Willow, what is it?" Buffy finally looked up. By this point, Willow had gotten Jesse's attention as well.

"You won't believe what I heard!" Willow squealed.

"Mr. Gunn is sick, possibly dying, and we have a substitute?" Jesse asked, hopefully.

"No." Willow rolled her eyes. "Be happy Xander has this class in a different period and didn't hear you say that. He's rather fond of Mr. Gunn."

"So, what's the deal?" Buffy asked impatiently. She paused, before her eyes took on a rather bizarre gleam. Jesse took this to mean that she was about to say something, that while outstandingly interesting, was rather silly and never would happen. He wasn't let down. "Does Xander have a crush on Mr. Gunn? Did he make a move?"

"God, no." Willow gave Buffy a strange look.

"Well, out with it." Jesse ordered.

"Mr. Giles and Mr. Rayne are-" Here Willow let out a giggle that was simply, well, Willow-ish. "-Dating!"

"Since when?" Buffy demanded. "Mr. Giles can't stand that guy! He gets that strange 'I want to jump off a bridge' sort of look when Mr. Rayne shows up."

"Well, according to what I heard in the library this morning-"

"They were having sex in the library?" Jesse interrupted, his eyes wide. "That's... That's..."

"Kinky. Even for Mr. Giles." Buffy said. Willow, for a moment, looked like she was about to kick them both in the head. Thankfully, Willow was not a violent person. She saved violence for the deserving, like Cordelia and those red ants that liked to bite her.

"Will you two be quiet and listen?" Willow asked, as calm as pie.

"Go on, then." Jesse said, smiling.

"He brought Mr. Giles a rose." Willow gushed. Buffy raised an eyebrow. "A white one!"

"Ah, well, white roses are a different matter." Jesse stated in a sage-like voice.

"It's a scandal!" Buffy suddenly gasped out. "I mean... Couldn't it be? A scandal that is. Two male teachers, going at it like bunnies in the library offices? That's scandal worthy.

"But I don't want to get them into trouble." Willow told her.

"Of course not. But, Willow, we can't just not tell people!" Buffy grinned widely. A sight, Willow realized, that was rather scary.

"No. I just wanted to tell you guys, but I don't-"

"Oh, come on, Willow!" Buffy exclaimed. "You're not about to refuse me this one pleasure, are you? This is great information! I could make a killing with this rumor."

"But if the wrong people found out, they could get fired." Willow said, eyes wide. Buffy stared at her a moment, before sitting back in her chair and letting out a small sigh.

"Yeah, you're right." Buffy muttered. "But damn, this is juicy. Teacher's, as far as students are aware, don't have lives. We have been introduced to the idea that Mr. Giles and Mr. Rayne have a life outside of teaching. A life possibly involving nudity and flowers. Could you imagine the look on Cordelia's face when she discovers I have the fun fact of the season, while she is left in the dark?"

"But...?" Willow prompted.

"But, I'll leave them be." Buffy informed her. "However... I think I may have to check out this... What did you call it? Oh, yes, library. If I don't get to spread the news around like a wildfire, then I might as well get a first hand glimpse."

"You're weird." Jesse noted.

"And ya'll need to shut up." Mr. Gunn interrupted, eyeing the three with a raised eyebrow.

File 19
Like, Oh My God

Spike allowed his cigarette to dangle from his lips as he dug through his duster in search of his elusive lighter. For a moment, he questioned the practicality in owning a black lighter. While black was a cool color, it tended to blend into other black substances, like the pockets of his jacket. With a sigh, he finally found it and lit his cigarette.

"Those things can kill you." Oz commented as he walked across the parking lot and toward his van.

"Whatever." Spike snorted. Immediately, he began his lunch time ritual. Start one direction, walk ten steps, turn at heel, and walk ten more steps. Repeat process. This was only broken up with an occasional bob of his head, set in tune to The Libertine's Cola Queen. While not as good as the Sex Pistols, Spike found some of the newer British music to definitely meet his fancy.

"Don't you ever eat?" William asked, clutching a pen and notebook to his chest.

"Don't you ever set that damn thing down?" Spike countered, gesturing toward the notebook with his cigarette.

"Xander talked to me today." William said, as though that answered Spike's question. Spike rolled his eyes as William let out a small squeal of excitement. "He actually talked to me!"

"Like, oh my God!" Spike exclaimed, flapping one hand around. "Like, let's go home and, like, braid each other's hair and, like, dish about Xander Harris! Like, oh my God."

"That wasn't necessary, you know." William informed him, turning up his nose.

"Like, it so was." Spike replied, resting his hand on a hip, that had suddenly jutted out. William glared. "Like, totally."

"Stop it."

"Like, no way!"

"Shut up." William insisted. "That's so annoying. You sound like a cheerleader."

"Really?" Spike asked, grinning. William started to feel a little sick at seeing his brother so... Perky. Even if it was fake. "Like, that's wonderful! I've always thought I did. Because, like, I'm such a girl. Just like you. Totally."

"Just because I get excited over Xander, doesn't mean I act like a girl." William said, rather offended.

"Sure it does." Spike replied, his voice returning to normal.

"It does not!" William glared once more. Spike let out a snort, before turning on his heel and continuing his pacing. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Oz walk toward them, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. William gave him an odd look. "I didn't know you smoked nicotine."

"I don't." Was Oz's reply. When William raised an eyebrow, he held out the cigarette. Instead of being an actual cigarette, it was a fake one, made out of some kind of metal. At one end of it was a hole, in which Oz had stuffed marijuana.

"I feel ashamed at saying it, but that's rather clever." William said, handing it back. "But, you shouldn't do drugs, Oz."

"Man, I don't do drugs." Oz replied, taking a hit. "Drugs are for losers."

"Okay." William said slowly. "If you say so."

"Why don't you go write poetry about Harris' startling brown eyes and chestnut hair." Spike made a waving movement with his hand. William gave him a suspicious look. "What?"

"Why do you want to get rid of me? You're not going to set something on fire, are you? It's not like you need to get detention so early in the year, Spike." William tsked.

"Fuck that." Spike rolled his eyes. "'Sides, I've already got detention this afternoon."

"What did you do?"

"I, like, totally pissed our, like, Chemistry teacher." Spike said in a flamboyant voice, eyes narrowed in anger.

"One can only imagine how you did that." William snorted.

"All I did was spill some yellow liquid on Rosenberg." Spike explained. "She, like, totally didn't like it."

"Are you done?" William asked. "That voice is started to annoy the hell out of me."

"Yeah, I guess so. It's kind of lost the bloody edge now." Spike made a noise at the back of his throat, a strange cross between a grunt and a tsk. "Pity. It was fun getting you all agitated."

"Whatever." William muttered.

"Coming to the Bronze tonight?" Oz suddenly asked. William blinked at him, taking in the bloodshot eyes and dopey smile. It was obvious Oz had not been following the conversation at all. In fact, he had spent most of the time watching William's hands.

"Uh, no."

"Why the fuck not?" Spike demanded.

"I just don't see the point." William mumbled. Spike narrowed his eyes speculatively, a fact that scared William to the core.

File 20
Lunch With Jesse and Xander

"Where are Buffy and Willow?" Xander asked as Jesse slipped into the chair next to him.

"At the library." Jesse replied, rolling his eyes. He pulled out his lunch, tossing a sandwich in Xander's direction. He glanced speculatively at the employment ads sitting on the table top, but said nothing.

"Buffy's at the library?" Xander asked in shock. "That's... That's just not right."

"Yeah, I was a little surprised myself, but apparently there is some scandal between Mr. Giles and Mr. Rayne." Jesse informed him. Personally, Jesse couldn't give a damn. In fact, he would prefer it if the girls never mentioned it again. It hadn't passed by him unnoticed that Sunnydale had suddenly gained quite a few gay people. It was like an epidemic.

He sure did miss the days when Xander was unique in his gayness.

"Scandal, eh?" Xander tapped his chin.

"Not you, too." Jesse glared.

"Nah, not me, too." Xander assured him. "I don't really care." There was a pause, in which Xander studied his newspaper. "Hey, what do you suppose a key grip does?"

"What? I don't know." Jesse leaned over and peered at the paper. "Where?"

"Hmm? Oh, it's not in here. The thought just suddenly struck me. I mean, do they hold things? do they hold a key of some sort?" Xander asked.

"Aren't they the ones that hold the microphone over the set?" Jesse questioned, looking confused.

"I don't know, but that makes a crazy kind of sense." Xander said, thoughtfully.

"So. You. Getting a job..." Jesse smirked. "Shouldn't that be illegal?"

"You would thinks so, wouldn't you?" Xander agreed. "Who in the hell would hire me? I mean, can I get any lazier? I suspect not. ...I'm going application hunting this afternoon."

"Are you hinting?" Jesse engulfed his sandwich and then continued with a full mouth. "That sounds like hinting."

"Well, heaven forbid I go job hunting all by myself." Xander batted his eyelashes.

"You'd probably get lost." Jesse snickered.

"Hey! I resent that." Xander paused. "Well, I would resent that if it wasn't true. After all, I'm the guy who got lost looking for Starbucks last month."

"I don't know how you missed it." Jesse chuckled. "It's the only coffee shop in this damn town. Well, aside from that one place down on Mitchell Street that has the little rainbow flag waving in the window."

"That's a nice place." Xander commented.

"Figured you'd been there." Jesse shook his head. "I don't get it, man. I'll never get it. The whole dick thing is just... Weird, is all. I would so prefer breasts anyway."

"Oh, I don't know. Some men have breasts." Xander replied in a strange tone.

"You mean like Snyder?" Jesse asked.

"Yeah. But I so don't want to talk about Snyder's unmentionables." Xander made a disgusted face, before taking a bite out of the sandwich Jesse had brought him. "Hey, do you think Burger King would hire me?"

"I don't know. The manager there kind thinks of himself as The Burger King, if you know what I mean." Jesse informed him. "It's too bad you're not over eighteen, or else you could work at that club... What's it called?"

"The one on Mitchell Street?" Xander asked, perking up. Mitchell Street was Sunnydale's tiny version of a gay commerce. It was where the adult bookstore was, along with the gay coffee shop, the foreign theater that showed nude French films, the headquarters of Sunnydale's Gay Alliance, and the Sundance Club.

"Yeah, the one that has the male strippers." Jesse said.

"Oh, yeah." Xander leered. "I would so work there."

"Cleaning up after vomiting gay patrons, as they watch muscular men dance about in thongs to the tune of YMCA." Jesse nodded. "I could so see you there."

"Damn straight." Xander agreed.


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