Chapter 4
Elizabeth groaned and swatted at her alarm clock for the second time that morning. She’d already found out the first disadvantage to dorm life earlier that day: roommates with seven o’clock classes.
Unfortunately, this time the alarm really was hers. After only minimal fumbling, she managed to get it turned off and slipped out of bed. Robe in place, she prepared for the great ten-foot journey to the bathroom, opened the door, and…was attacked.
A wall of steam blew past her, clearing out the bathroom and revealing… OK, how unfair was it that she had to deal with that first thing in the morning? Elizabeth felt her mouth go dry at the sight of Spike clad in nothing but a small, while towel, hot droplets of water from his shower still dripping down his bare, muscular back. She swallowed.
Spike heard her apparently and looked up from where he was brushing his teeth into the fogged mirror before him. He cursed through the toothpaste when he couldn’t see anything and turned around to see who was there.
“’Mornin’, Summers,” he said a bit groggily.
Elizabeth snapped her jaw shut from where it had dropped to the floor and casually walked into the bathroom. “Morning.” See? She could still play it cool even though Spike really obviously worked out. A lot. Damn, the man was all lean, sinewy muscle and… Annoying, she reminded herself.
“You got stuck with a nine o’clock class too, ‘ey?” he inferred, spitting out the toothpaste before gracing her with a wide yawn.
Ah good, he was still too tired to try to be seductive…and didn’t he have such nice, straight, white teeth? She inwardly slapped herself for sounding like a bad toothpaste commercial and set her own basket of bathroom paraphernalia on the shelf of the sink beside his. “Oh yeah,” she agreed with a slight yawn of her own.
Spike wiped his mirror clean before lathering his face with shaving cream. “Whattaya got then?” he inquired.
“Art history.” She shoved her own toothbrush into her mouth and began scrubbing. There, now nearly-naked Spike wasn’t as intimidating as she thought, was he? She ventured a look at his bare chest and…ooh! Were gorgeous abs like those even possible? OK, back to looking at the nice, safe mirror.
“Really?” Spike began to shave. “Who you got?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Don’t remember.”
“Rudall?” he suggested. “Luce? Steinberg?”
Elizabeth nodded through her mouth full of toothpaste. “That’s it, Steinberg.” She spit into the sink.
Spike shook his head. “Good luck,” he said sarcastically before splashing water on his face.
“What do you mean?” Elizabeth demanded warily.
“Steinberg’s a bloody sadist,” Spike shrugged. “Likes to make students miserable.”
“And where were you when I was registering?” Elizabeth sighed.
He gave her a sly smirk and leaned over to whisper in her ear. “You wanna…tutor, all you’ve gotta do is ask, luv,” he said suggestively. “Be happy to teach you a thing or two…” He looked her up and down in a way more…blatant and hungry than any she’d ever seen before.
Her cheeks flushed slightly, and her body became painfully aware of the fact that it was less than a foot away from nearly-naked Spike. “Pig.” She was proud of the fact that she managed to say the word with clear precision.
His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Oink, oink,” he agreed before grabbing his stuff and leaving the bathroom.
Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief. Spike was definitely too intense to deal with first thing in the morning. Unhindered by infuriating peroxide blonds, she quickly finished her morning rituals and headed back to her room…only to find that now-dressed infuriating peroxide blonds were just now leaving their room.
“Don’ wanna be late to Steinberg’s class,” he advised her, slinging his book-bag over one leather-clad shoulder.
“Thanks for the tip,” she said sarcastically. Mmm, his hair was still all curled and wild from his shower…
“Later, luv.” He paused at the door to the stairwell to blow her a quick kiss before he was gone.
“Jerk,” Elizabeth grumbled, heading back into her own room to get dressed…
* * *
“Daily attendance is mandatory,” Professor Steinberg, a once-tall-now-bent-in-two stodgy old man, declared. He looked over the top of his reading glasses to make sure everyone was paying attention. “Every absence loses you a third of a grade, and from now on you all get to class five minutes early. I don’t want attendance to cut into my lecture time. In addition, you will attend the mandatory discussion sections that I assign. Any absence docks your grade.” He turned back to the rather extensive list of rules he’d assigned for the day.
Elizabeth bit back a pang of real fear as she looked over the course guidelines. OK, so maybe Spike hadn’t been kidding in his assessment of Steinberg…
“You’ll notice that you have two projects in addition to the midterm and final. Any of these get turned in late, you get a zero. No exceptions. I don’t care if you’ve got bubonic plague. You can’t do the work; you don’t take the class. All tests will cover the material from lectures, the textbook, as well as the independent research I’ll expect you to do for this class.” He gave the entire room a dark glare. “I expect most of you not to pass. And I’ve only given twenty A’s ever, in all my fifty years of teaching. If you aren’t ready to take a real class, I suggest you look into visual arts down the hall.”
He leaned forward against the podium. “Now, we will begin with the Classical Period today. Chapters one through four on the Archaic Period we’ll skip, but will still be on the test. One word of advice – sketch the slides fast; you may not see some of them again until the final. Slide one—” He turned to the picture behind him.
And Elizabeth began scribbling notes furiously. OK, she’d heard college was hard, but she hadn’t expected this. At least a couple of the other freshmen seemed just as flustered as she was. Oh yeah, did school suck…
* * *
Elizabeth sat in her seat in American History slowly clenching and unclenching her hand. She was quite confident she’d already gotten carpal tunnel syndrome from writing down everything Steinberg had said. She was equally confident she’d already managed to do something to earn herself an F. Fortunately, she hadn’t been called on in class and thus hadn’t gotten one of the little red X’s The Professor From Hell put in his grade book every time a question was answered incorrectly. Dammit, two more classes to go today, and already she had a headache…
And it just got worse. With a flurry of black leather, Spike abruptly landed in the seat beside her.
“Din’t know you were interested in history, Summers,” he said, in way too good a mood for her taste.
“I have to take a history course,” she informed him. “Requirement.”
“Ah,” he said, dropping his bag between them and leaning over to brush right against her thigh as he dug around in it for a pencil. He gave her a little triumphant smile when he found one. “The joys of freshman year…” he began somewhat nostalgically.
She sighed and rubbed her eyes.
“Steinberg that bad?” he inquired astutely.
“Why has no one murdered that man yet?” she demanded.
He chuckled slightly. “No one’s offered me the right price yet,” he teased before leaning into her ear. “Although, for a pretty face…might be willin’ to cut you a deal…”
She blushed and swatted at him half-heartedly, which only made his smirk grow wider. He tried to catch her wrists, and she fended him off, unable to keep an amused little smile off her face at the sheer childishness of their behavior…
“Elizabeth,” a voice suddenly broke the little bubble that had formed between them, “is this jerk bothering you?”
They both turned, and Spike let out a long-suffering sigh. “Finn,” he hissed, his eyes cold.
“Giles.” Riley didn’t look any more pleased to see him. “What are you even doing in this class?” he demanded. “Given you *ahem* unique opinions on this great country of ours,” he gave Elizabeth a little smile, letting her know that she was included in the ‘ours’, “I’d’ve thought you’d avoid U.S. history like the plague.”
“History ‘as nothin’ to do with patriotism, Finn,” Spike informed him in a voice that made it all too clear that he thought the other man was an idiot.
Riley ignored his response and turned to Elizabeth. “You and Giles are friends?” he said, disbelieving.
“No!” Elizabeth panicked, suddenly realizing what a major blow it would be to her popularity if she got the rep for handing around with punks.
Spike shot her a slightly hurt look.
“No, I mean,” she quickly amended, “we live in the same house is all.”
Riley shoved his way past Spike and sat in the seat on the opposite side of her. “My condolences,” he said, giving her a conspiratorial little smile.
She managed to force out a laugh. “Uh…yeah…” She could almost feel Spike’s eyes burning into the back of her neck, but when she chanced a look back at him, he seemed completely absorbed in the textbook in front of him.
“So,” Riley slipped on hand onto the back of her chair and leaned forward slightly, “how’s your day been so far?”
She rolled her eyes. “Had the Asshole Prof From Hell already…”
“Oh yeah?” Riley inquired. “Who?”
“Steinberg for art history,” she sighed. “I mean what kind of a pretentious, overbearing fogy only gives twenty A’s in fifty years?”
“Ah, the famous Steinberg speech,” Riley said. “If you ever, uh, want any help, I’d be happy to oblige. Took his class last year, you know…when he’d only given out nineteen A’s…”
“Really?” Elizabeth’s smile widened.
“*Cough*liar*Cough*.” Spike only half hid his accusation amidst his hacking.
“What was that?” Riley’s eyes narrowed.
“You aced Steinberg’s class?” Spike raised a sardonic eyebrow.
“Whatsa matter, Giles?” Riley retorted. “Jealous?”
“Oh yeah, ‘cause Steinberg jus’ loved you,” Spike retorted sarcastically.
“At least I didn’t get into a screaming match with him every class,” Riley retorted. “Let me guess; he failed your ass.”
“’Least I don’ take credit for things I ‘aven’t done,” Spike shot back.
Riley leaned into Elizabeth a bit closer. “The problem with Giles here,” he informed her with a grin, “is that he just can’t accept that he’s not destined for the greater things in life, not like us…” His hand rested possessively on her thigh.
She suddenly got the distinct impression that she was the trophy in some sort of testosterone-induced competition. At least Spike seemed not to be playing. He proceeded to ignore the two of them again, instead watching the professor that had just entered the room. Elizabeth brushed Riley’s hand aside and prepared to pay attention to class as well.
“I’m Professor Hall,” the leggy brunette announced.
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. That was a professor? She was actually pretty and youngish and stuff…
“The TA’s are passing around the assignment sheets now,” Professor Hall continued. “Please, take one and pass them on. Hopefully, we’ll get through it fast, and you’ll all get out early.”
Elizabeth accepted the stack of assignment sheets from Spike and passed them on to Riley.
“I’ll just take attendance. If you go by any name not listed here, just let me know,” Professor Hall fumbled through several papers until she found the class list. “Dana Adams?”
Elizabeth read over the assignment sheet during the long wait until the S’s. Attendance, readings, class participation, two five-page papers, and a final – all in all, not so bad. She breathed a little sigh of relief; she’d been half-convinced that every class would have as much work as Steinberg’s…
“Here.”
Elizabeth started slightly when Riley spoke up right beside her.
Professor Hall checked off his name. Her brow furrowed slightly then. “William Giles?” she asked, looking around the room.
“Oi.” Spike raised his hand.
Professor Hall gave him a small smile. “Barely even recognized you,” she commented. “You go by something different now…?” Her brow furrowed again.
“Spike,” he provided.
“That’s it,” she agreed. “Knew it was something unusual…” She jotted down a note. “Sean Gregg?”
“You know her?” Elizabeth whispered to Spike in surprise.
“She an’ my da are good friends,” he shrugged. “Met ‘er at a few conferences when I was little.”
“Teacher’s pet,” Riley accused juvenilely.
Spike didn’t even dignify that with a response.
“Elizabeth Summers?” Professor Hall called out.
“Here,” Elizabeth raised her hand.
“Just Elizabeth?”
She nodded, and the three of them sat silently throughout the rest of the roll call.
“This class is really simple,” Professor Hall finally began. “You do the reading and pay attention to the lectures, you’ll be fine. You don’t, and you’ll be in trouble for the final. Now, I bet most of you are noticing that there’s no midterm and cheering. And, yes, that’s right, the only test you’ll have to take is the final. The two papers, however, will cover the themes we’ll be discussing, so you’ll get some feedback as to how well you’re understanding the material. Give me a good effort, and you’ll pass just fine. Now, that’s all I’ve got for today. Read chapter one of Wilcox for Wednesday and enjoy getting out of class forty-five minutes early.” She picked up her bag to go.
“Out early?” Elizabeth said with a little smile. “How cool is that?”
“Barb’s nice like that,” Spike grinned back at her. “Bloody brilliant, too. You’ll love ‘er lectures…” He finished packing up his book-bag. “You headed for lunch?” he asked almost shyly.
“I’ve got another class after this,” she said apologetically. “Don’t wanna have to rush all the way to Westing and back.”
“You should come to the coffee shop with me then,” Riley insisted brightly. “You can tell me all about your day, get a nice break…”
“Sure, that’d be great,” she agreed. She did frown slightly when Riley practically shoved Spike aside to parade her past. The trophy analogy was in full force again.
What she didn’t see was the hurt little expression on Spike’s face before his eyes narrowed in rage…
* * *
“That stupid, nancy boy, wanker…ARGH!” Spike exclaimed, slamming his fist into the table and setting all the silverware rattling.
Willow calmly stilled her spoon’s violent rocking. “Let me guess,” she said with a small, knowing smile, “Riley Finn?”
“’Course ‘s bleedin’ Finn,” Spike grumbled under his breath, slumping in his chair.
“That nasty guy that was insulting Oz?” Xander asked curiously.
“Sounds like ‘im,” Spike sulked.
Faith’s interest was definitely piqued. Testosterone was in the air; she could just smell it. And given the attractiveness of the two males at the table, it was definitely something worth encouraging… “What’ve you got against that studmuffin?” she asked curiously, taking a bite out of her apple.
Spike gave her an annoyed look. “Watch it, girlie,” he said in a falsely saccharine tone. “’E’d take you for a ride an’ then toss you aside.”
“Isn’t that the best kind?” Faith said saucily.
“Not ‘f he dumps you just ‘cause you’re not ‘good enough’ for ‘im,” Spike retorted. “You’re either a snooty rich bitch potential wife or street trash with that one. Without the dollar signs by your name, ‘e would barely even see you as ‘uman.”
“Nice guy,” Xander commented sarcastically.
Spike rolled his eyes. “You don’ even know the half ‘f it…” he complained.
“He had sex with Spike’s girlfriend,” Anya spoke up for the first time, “just to make him angry.”
Spike gave her an outraged look. “Thanks for tellin’ everyone, Anyanka!” he exclaimed. “Wanna yell that a bit louder? ‘Bout two people ‘aven’t heard yet!”
Anya gave him an apologetic smile. “Drusilla was a slut, though, so it doesn’t lessen Spike’s manliness in the slightest. In fact, he has a rather large—”
“Anyanka!” Spike exclaimed, his face flaming a deep red.
“Keep calling me ‘Anyanka’, and I’ll finish that sentence,” she threatened with a wicked little smile, “and explain in detail how I got that information.”
“This ‘s blackmail,” he grumbled under his breath.
“A rather large—” Anya continued.
“Anya!” Spike spit out. “There! Happy?”
“Very much so,” she said with a delighted little grin.
Xander and Faith’s jaws had dropped to the floor in disbelief in the meantime, and Willow was desperately trying to focus on her sandwich.
“So, um, yeah,” Xander finally dare to speak, “moving past the Anya/Spike sex…”
“Oh, we didn’t have sex,” Anya provided helpfully. “We were nowhere near drunk enough for that. See, I just bet—”
“Anya!” Spike cut her off, mortified.
Anya sulked and mumbled to herself.
Faith leaned towards her. “So, when you say ‘rather large’, how does that translate into inches?” she couldn’t help tease.
“Welcome to find out, luv,” Spike purred, back to his usual self – battling with Anya generally did that, “’f you think you can take it, that is.”
“Oh, I could take you for the ride of your life,” Faith assured him through long lashes.
“Down, girl,” Willow teased. “A little sympathy for everyone else at the table that likes women.”
Even Faith blushed a bit at Willow’s implication, and the conversation died down to normal levels.
“So,” Willow demanded of Spike, “what did Riley do now…?”
* * *
“I mean, I’m sure he’s got his uses,” Riley said, sounding only half-convinced, “but does he honestly think someone like you would so much as give him the time of day?”
“I don’t wear a watch,” Elizabeth pointed out. OK, this was starting to get boring. So far Riley had only wanted to talk about two things: his heroism on the basketball court, and how Spike was inferior in every way. Frankly, Elizabeth preferred the basketball stories.
Riley gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” he apologized, “I don’t mean to go off on the Giles thing, but seeing him going after you…” He shuddered. “He’s so creepy. If I were you, I wouldn’t encourage him. Trust me, you don’t want him for a stalker, although you wouldn’t be the first…”
She gave him a confused look and downed the last of her coffee.
“Oh yeah,” he informed her conspiratorially, leaning in close. “There was this one girl – Dru – that he was into or something. Well, naturally, she doesn’t want anything to do with him ‘cause, frankly, who would? So she and I are just hanging out, and he goes ballistic on me. I took care of him, though,” he informed her with a little wink. “You ever have any problems with him,” his hand slipped out to cover hers, “you just get me, and I’ll take care of it for you.”
Elizabeth jerked her own hand back before he could touch it. “Th-Thanks,” she managed to get out before standing up. “It’s been nice, really, but I’ve got the get to class.”
“I’ll see you ‘round then,” Riley said with a wide grin.
“Sure,” she agreed, plastering a smile onto her face before she turned and left.
Oh yeah, Riley thought, watching her ass as she went, she’s definitely the one for me. Sweet, pretty, innocent, from a good family – perfect…
* * *
Elizabeth cast and annoyed eye roll at Spike’s room as loud screaming that she supposed he called ‘music’ shook the entire hallway even through his closed door. She shut the door to her own room with a sigh of relief.
Willow gave her a sympathetic smile from where she was lying on her bed, reading. “Yes, he does listen to that stuff all the time,” she sighed.
“No wonder he yells so much,” Elizabeth teased, “he’s probably deaf from that bass.”
“I know I am,” Willow giggled slightly.
Elizabeth let out a weary sigh and collapsed on her bed. “Go ahead,” she joked, her head still buried in her pillow, “ask me how my day went…”
“That bad, huh?” Willow shut her textbook with a snap.
“I have over three hundred pages to read by Wednesday,” Elizabeth began, “a professor who was a slave driver in a past life…or maybe this one – he is pretty old, and another class tomorrow…” She groaned.
“Don’t forget ‘it’s only the first day’,” Willow teased.
Elizabeth lifted her head up just enough to narrow one eye at Willow before collapsing again. “Please, tell me it doesn’t always suck this much…”
“It pretty much does,” Willow said apologetically, “but you get used to it.” She gave Elizabeth a perky smile.
“I don’t believe you,” Elizabeth insisted. “There is no way I could get used to this. No way, no how…”